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He struck a match and offered me the flame. I leaned just close enough to light my cigarillo, mumbled a thank you, and drew away.
“Sorry about your coin purse.”
A different, slower smile rolled across his lips. “Sorry? Oh no, dove. I don’t make bets I lose.” I offered him the box, and he shook his head. “Keep it. You paid for it.”
He turned away, offering one more inscrutable glance as he walked down the path. “Looking forward to tomorrow. Good luck out there.”