The Affair Baby
The old Mr Tucker looked away from his son, down at me, sitting at the end of the table.
He smiled, and then winked. I smiled back.
His son looked at the both of us in horror.
Mr Tucker Snr was our country'’s Elon Musk, and at least eighty years old.
He finally turned lazy eyes to his son, “Sit, or get out.” He spat.
“Sorry, Father.” His son bowed deeply in apology, shot me a dirty look and sat beside his father.
The rest of the Tucker clan began to file into the large room, each holding less love in their heart for me, till the woman who downright hated me walked in.
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