“She is seventeen.” “I can see where she gets her good looks,” I replied. Jennifer smiled. “Thanks, but I don’t think she takes after me... She is more like her father than me.” “Maybe in temperament,” I replied, “But she is an exact copy of you in every other aspect.” Jennifer blushed as she stuffed her phone back into her purse. “She can be a handful,” Jennifer said. “I can imagine. You’re probably the same way, but won’t admit it.” As soon as the words rolled off my tongue, I realized they'd. I was terrified even if in the back of my mind I knew this was theater as much as a test. Mr. Z got to show he was a concerned and protective father, and I got to pretend I had no carnal designs on his daughter and that I would return her unsullied. I had no doubts about Mr. Z. How much he believed me is unknowable, but we had to do the dance.At mid-afternoon the restaurant was empty, the tables set for the dinner service with white tablecloths and full cutlery and wineglasses. The walls held. More

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