The Keyholder
The Keyholder The key was brass, heavy, and it belonged to a storage unit on Santa Monica Boulevard that Jack Murphy had no business opening. But Jack was a keyholder, and a keyholder opens doors. That's what he told himself, anyway. It was easier than admitting that the woman who'd handed him the key had looked at him with eyes that said she knew exactly what kind of man he was and didn't...
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