"You sure took your sweet time, didn't you?" Mr Weekend didn't bother looking up at first, his lips refusing to leave the straw of the crushed-ice drink he was noisily vacuuming down.
"Meeting in a tiny-ass restaurant? What, is this mission your sad attempt at taking me out on a date?" Kim asked, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him, crossing her legs. "If it is, pass. I don't do kids."
The boy remained calm. "Well... you're certainly as full of yourself as ever. Even if you were the last breathing female on this planet, I wouldn't dream of touching a washed-up hag like you. Honestly, I wonder why worthless men fawn over a mindless pair of tits."
"You're just a little boy. You wouldn't understand real appeal if it slapped you in the face," Kim purred. She reached across the table, snatching the drink right out of Weekend's hand.
