I Accidentally Called My Boss Mom Pt. 3
Amanda’s house was only a short drive across town. She lived in a middle class neighborhood, and I was surprised to see her house was only one story, and very modest. The style was limewash brick with black stained wood accents. She had a sparkling, diamond black SUV parked in the driveway; I couldn’t figure out what it was, but I knew it was expensive. I parked my car on the street, turned it off, and sat thinking, feeling out of place. You don’t deserve her. I unbuckled the seatbelt, climbed out of the car, and stepped onto the walkway that pathed to her front door. It was a deep ebony, and had been carved with swirls and patterns that only a master could have accomplished. The windows framing the door had curtains drawn, and …