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He passed fields with workers, white men attired in the same sack clothing, who didn't even look up, they appeared to be drones or robots, lifeless almost, working... like slaves.He was led inside and into the parlor where Mistress Emmanuelle stood to greet him. "Chuck, what a pleasure to meet you, do come in." She extended her hand pulled out a chair. Charles stood, staring her down.To say that Emmanuelle was breathtaking was an understatement. She was one of the most gorgeous women he had ever seen in his life. Her severe black suit hugged her curves. She sat behind an enormous, antique oak desk with all the modern technological advances that money could buy and pulled out a file. She quoted every asset he had, the names and addresses of the Board of Directors from his job, and produced a copy of his credit report and slid it towards him. His gaze was fixed and intense and he didn't make a move. He wanted to end this game and go home. The money he lost would be an expensive lesson. If you put all their brains together, you still couldn’t get a high school diploma worth’s of intelligence out of them. All except for April. She’s the whole package, pretty and smart. That is until she gets with her family. The fucking idiots have no limits to the grief they give me.It’s generally innocent stuff, but sometimes they go too damn far. The worst was a prank call about my mother being killed in a car wreck which forced me to leave merger talks to fly home. My mother is my last surviving blood family. We buried my father and brother ten years prior after a semi truck ran a red light.After discovering my mother wasn’t dead, I laid holy hell upon the whole damn lot of them. One year later I still refused to allow them in my home or talk to them. April wasn’t involved in that stunt thank goodness. If she was, I may have filed then and there. Only because of April’s begging, did I start talking to her family again. But only after I gave them a dire warning and a promise, “NO.
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