...."Sorry, Europe," Danny sometimes joked with Marina, his office-mate, copy writer, and best friend. Mitch was one of the handsome economists; after recoiling from the "artistic" comment, Danny hurried a bit to his office and Marina's warm, frizzy blonde embrace. All up and down the hall, Barter's color palette repeated a brick red and mustard theme.
He entered their office like they were courting, swaying a bit with his hands clasped behind his back. When she looked up, he proffered a handful of their newest brochures like a bouquet.
"Pudding!" Marina cried, coming around the plateau of their massive, shared desk. Eyes on the collateral, she added, "We do good work, don't we?" and gave Danny a peck on the cheek.
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