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Silky Nutmeg the good milk shirt

  • babynaby02
  • Aug 25, 2021
  • 1 min read

He was a big fish in a small pond where I lived, but still a sizable one in some of the largest lakes in the country. He was worth somewhere in the low eight figures. Me, I wore three-year-old jeans and sweatshirts with sneakers that I’d lined with an extra pair of socks for support. I didn’t look like a derelict, but I certainly didn’t look like the kind of valet or assistant a man of such means might employ. There was a reason for this. He paid me in cash weekly, sometimes adding a “tip” depending on my results. I would show up at his business office and his secretary – a snobby young woman who would sneer at me made sure my orders were in a box at the edge of her desk so I wouldn’t have to ask her. My pay was in the envelope on Fridays with my tip folded in half at the bottom of the stack.


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