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Here I am. In a mini dress, serving champagne to celebrities in New York’s most luxurious hotel. How did a French girl like me end up here, you may think? Well, it’s a series of events:
1. I moved here a few years ago to study marketing, and got a job in a top agency;
2. My boyfriend of two years cheated on me and got me fired;
3. My best friend got me this waitressing gig, so I don’t end up living in the streets.
Oh, did I mention? Tonight, I’m working at Jack Rose’s birthday party. Yes, as in the most famous pop star in the world. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but all I know is the room temperature went up fifty degrees since he entered . . .
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