“You want me to meet your parents?” I ask, as if he spoke without really thinking. “Of course, why not?” “I’m not really the girl rich boys bring home to meet the family.” “Why?” he asks, looking up at me. “Because you’re a stripper?” “Yes,” I reply. “Well, then just try to keep your clothes on when my mother serves the turkey.” “Very funny,” I snap. “I’m being serious.”
