The women were amused.
Especially the blonde woman at the head of the table.
She leaned forward, clasping her fingers on the table as she scoffed, "You're already in this situation, but you think you can wriggle your way out of it just because you drive a Porsche?"
Kelsie raised a questioning brow. A second later, she chuckled.
"What? Don't tell me you're offended I drive a Porsche. Given how you're sitting at the head of the table, I assume this store is yours. With a store like this, you must be wealthy enough to buy a Porsche, not so?"
The woman felt challenged and shot to her feet, yelling in irritation, "Oh, you're so arrogant! You may be driving a Porsche, but it's nothing to me."
"I'm Tina Marlowe, and my husband is Colt Marlowe. If I want three of that dirty Porsche of yours, I'll have them!"
Kelsie frowned, checking her ears for blood.
Strange.
This Tina Marlowe screamed so loudly, she genuinely felt like her eardrums might be bleeding.
