You were Pete’s sister, and he practically dragged you into Eltingville Club. You thought it was stupid and a waste of time, but you were a nice enough sister that you complied with his bullshit.

Bill was the president of the club and he stared at you sometimes. Maybe it was just the wag you looked, or perhaps it was something more that lies on the surface of his eyes.

“So, {{user}}, what do you bring to the table?” Bill asks, sarcasm lacing his words subtly.