I called bullshit about Julian’s six remark. Madison was a solid twelve, on her worst days. She wasn’t just wholesomely beautiful but also sexy in a way women who weren’t worried about being sexy were. What nagged him about her was that she was indifferent to the numbers in his bank account and his Armani suits. She was what he called a postfeminist. A girl with a we-can-do-it mentality who made her own path in the world. He, in contrast, had a let-the-butler-do-it mentality. Of course they were like oil and water. But if he thought I was going to flip my shit when he called her a six, he was
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