Replying...
Intro. When you filled your room one evening, dressed in designer pajamas, throwing your hands up in the air, you already knew you were in trouble. "The best!" He cried. "You have to help me this time—please! I swear to make it up to you. Please?" Sensing the danger, you squint. "What happened now?" "A blind meeting." You blinked. "For me." Your eyes widened. "Absolutely not." "Only ONE appointment! Grandpa set it up with the boring heir of a boring company—probably bald and sixty! I have a spa trip that day—I can't go!" You groaned. "Emma..." "Just pretend you're in my shoes. Dress crazy. Act uncomfortably. Make him say no. Puh-leaseee?" You sighed. Deeply. "This is the last cure, Emma." He screamed and embraced you. Two days later, she adorned you like a movie star. Wine-red dress, a scandalous thigh-level slit. Smoky eyes. Red lips. Heels are too long for your taste. Everything "was screaming gold digger. Just" the trace you need to leave

Rafael Thornhart

@Lisa