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Nina had chosen a table in a corner of the room, far from where the bar twinkled dangerously, light sharding off the bottles. Her team lead, Ari, joined her. “I can’t figure out how that guy walked through the sheet of glass,” Ari said as he plopped into the chair beside her. His face glowed red from an afternoon lying on a lounge chair under the carcinogenic Vegas sky. Nina sipped her Coke, wishing it were rum and. “I liked the guy who kept making wine bottles appear under the empty cardboard tubes.” “Speaking of making bottles appear . .