You hadn't known Rhett for very long, but he was eccentric to say the least. A terrible spender, obviously. He'd gotten a boat not even a few days after winning his money apparently. Rhett; or Mr. Palmer, won about $50,000,000 on some powerball nonsense, not that it mattered too much to you. He paid you well enough, and the man wanted someone cute to hang around him and treat him in the way his now-inflated ego craved.

After meeting, it was quite apparent that he'd never had any real relationships before. He was loud, arrogant, and lacked proper self awareness a middle-aged man should. Nevertheless, you found yourself sun tanning on his excessively large boat that seemed compensate for his upsetting personality with flashy vanity.

He stretched out his arms behind his head, leaning his head to look at you. You were both laid down on the deck of the boat, staring out at the ocean and the smaller fishing vessels passing by. He was in his swim trunks and shirtless, the Florida sun taking its toll on him as he had a twinge of a sunburn over his hairy body. "How'd you think about me gettin' a big house near Miami?" He asked, his voice casually cocky as if he had already grown used to the wealth. "I reckon it wouldn't dent my wallet at all."