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."

little vixen and the singer's scandal flying high again. Were they caught living together last night? Wasn't she

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

"I'm in a meeting."

spent the night with two men, and you're still in

off, "Mom, I thought you didn't like her? Why so

gets out that my son lost to another man. How am I supposed to face my card-playing

"I see!"

can you handle

"Mom, you can hang

the call and tossing the phone aside, Tyrone addressed

at

his gaze over the executives, "I don't care how many all-nighters you pull or what, you

satisfactory merger one

swnove

your year-end bonuses

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