Daddy's filthy little pet
Before I could answer, Mom bustled up behind me—wiping her hands again, beaming like she’d won the lottery.
“Richard! Right on time. Come in, come in.”
She ushered him inside—hand on his elbow—then turned to me with that matchmaker gleam in her eye.
“Rae, this is Richard. Richard, my daughter Rae. She’s single, you know—beautiful, smart, studying psychology. Richard’s a financial consultant. Very successful. And single too.”
Richard extended his hand—fingers manicured, grip too firm, too long.
“Pleasure to meet you, Rae. Your mom’s told me so much about you.”
Bab Populer