when Jane stops the rental car outside her apartment building and drags herself into the lobby toward the elevator. Once she got Bitsy Rushworth’s signature on the contract Jane had fired up the Honda and headed straight back to Manhattan, the long drive and her lonely apartment more appealing than another night of bedbugs in East Devon’s Sugar Maple Inn. The girl who stares back at her from the mirror of the elevator as the doors start to slide closed looks drawn and gaunt, her black hair a greasy helmet, and is that a zit she sees incubating in the corner of her mouth? Jane leans in close to the mirror, grimacing, trying to get a better look at the pimple when the doors shudder open again and Tom Bennett bolts in. If Jane thinks she looks rough, Tommy boy looks as if he was dragged down Broadway tied to the rear of a car. He’s wearing a hoodie and a soiled T-shirt over jeans and sneakers.
What do You think about Mr. Love: A Romantic Comedy?
