Wilma picked up the phone, "Maybe you should give the young master a call?"

"Should I, though?"

"Yes, after all, Ms. Young is his lady."

"You have a point." Mrs. York stretched out her hand, and Wilma passed the phone to her with a smile.

Taking the phone, Mrs. York dialed Tyrone's number.

But there was no answer. Mrs. York frowned and dialed again.

Finally, after the fourth attempt, the call connected.

"Mom, I'm in a meeting."

was could wait. But Mrs. York seemed not to catch his drift at all, blurting out, "Oh, you're in a meeting? Well, I was just wondering about that little vixen and the singer's scandal flying high again. Were they caught living together last night? Wasn't she with you? She was practically in your pocket, and

son. Since he was little, Tyrone had always been possessive; he wouldn't let anyone touch what was

"I'm in a meeting."

spent the night with

thought

liking her or not. It's embarrassing if it gets out that my son lost to another man. How am I supposed to face my card-playing friends? I

"I see!"

handle it or

darkened, "Mom, you can

call and tossing the phone aside,

glanced at Kevin, who seemed lost in

over the executives, "I don't care how many all-nighters you pull or what, you do. If you can't produce

satisfactory merger one

swnove

your year-end

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