This is the second time Aunt Tanya has politely asked the DJ to stop playing inappropriate music at this family wedding. If he does it again she will not be so nice about it. Uncle Mark might have to hold her back.
(a little something for friends having a hard time. Sorry, it’s not Doreen. 8) )
“I own an amazing apartment in Paris.”
“Nice,” Clint said, not looking up from his game.
“I have a villa there, too.” Tony stalked across the room, his feet clomping along with the petulance of a child. Clint angled his head to try to keep a clear line to the tv. “A penthouse in Hong Kong.”
“Hey, awesome.” Clint flopped onto his back, aiming his head for Nat’s lap. He managed it, more or less, and she glared down at him. He gave her a bright smile. “Hi, Nat!”
“Hello, loser,” she said, but she ruffled his hair with a careless hand.
“I think I still have that ranch in Texas,” Tony said. He paused. “Or was that Brazil?”
“Those are two very different places, Tony,” Nat said, going back to her reading. With her free hand, she reached for her tea cup. “Very different.”
“It involved cows, that’s all I remember,” Tony admitted. “I own a ranch, and I’m sure that Pepper’s got the details about the fact that I own it..”
“Or you did,” Nat agreed. “Is there a point to this?”
“There’s the property in California, and a little island in the Carribean, and favors I could call in from Abu Dhabi to Zurich,” Tony said.