Who’s the Gold Digger

“Would you like some more tea.”

“Don’t act so familiar. I know you’re just a gold digger who’s after my father’s money.”

“That is not true! I didn’t ask him to change the will. He just wants to make sure I’m taken care of if anything unfortunate happens. Besides, you’re a well educated young man with a good job, you even have a rich wife. Surely you don’t need all the money.”

“How much I have isn’t the issue. I won’t allow you to take what isn’t rightfully yours.”

“I see. If you feel that way fine. If something happens to your father, goddess forbid, I’ll give the money to charity. I have skills that make me more independent than I might seem.”

“Charity! That monies mine! If he changes the will I’ll have him declared incompetent, and see you in court.”

“What! You know your father has all his marbles. Surely you wouldn’t do that to him.”

“Try me!” Mitchell sneered, then took a sip of his tea as though savouring Janice’s look of shock.

When she saw him drink it, Janice smiled.

“How old are you?”

“What does my age have to do with anything? I’m thirty-two.”

“Deary,” Janice tutted, “I know women like you tend to lie about their age, but that’s really pushing it.”

Pushing it, how could she say that. Mitchell only lied by about ten years.”

“What do you do for a living Mitsy?”

“I’m a plastic surgeon.”

“Doubtful, though you’ve clearly been to a few plastic surgeon’s: nose job, tummy tuck, cheekbones, glutes, you’ve had work done in so many places.”

How did she know? Did dad tell her?

“What sort of clothes do you wear.”

“Business suits and golf shirts.”

Janice laughed. “Business suits and golf shirts. Right now you’re wearing leopard pants, and a trashy top, accentuated with lots of makeup, jewelry and inch long nails. I suspect that’s what’s normal for you.”

“What’s your relationship to my husband?”

“I’m his son.” Wait, Mitsy thought, wouldn’t I be his daughter, and our ages are only ten years apart.

“I’m afraid that can’t be true Mitsy. It’s just not possible.”

“I came here about the will.”

“Yes you did. You need some way to support your shopaholic lifestyle. Unfortunately the well is dry. My husband divorced you. The pre-numpt was violated when you banged the tennis coach, and I’m not going to let him loan you any more money.”

Janice gave a wicked smile. “Go find someone else to leech off of you gold digger.”


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