"I always end up with the good looking ones, don't I, father?" Dylan said, in respect to Clara, who blushed heavily. She could even feel her stomach turning red.
"Heh! Tell me about that. Something you learned from me." Dylan's father replied.
"Did you tidy up my room, father? I need to get some rest." Dylan asked.
"What… am I your nanny? Tell Jones to do that for you. You came with the lad, didn't you?"
Dylan turned away without any response and left the room.
Dylan's father turned to Clara and said, "Want a cup?"
Clara shook her head. "I don't think I can drink any of that, sir."
"Why not?" Dylan's father asked curiously.
"Allergy." Clara replied.
"Pity. But you'll sit with me, will you not?" Dylan's father humbly requested.
"I can do that, sir," Clara replied in an humble
