Mrs. Edison carefully scrutinized Dolores Frieman's expression.
Even though she knew Dolores Frieman was rich, Mrs. Edison didn't feel good about her.
A widow, and she even wears makeup!
Just like a vixen.
Just one look and you can tell she's not a quiet homebody. Once she married her son, she would have to hand over the barbecue shop to her son to run.
Women should carry out women's duties.
Assisting their husbands and educating their children.
Otherwise, given some time, she would definitely cheat on her son.
Mrs. Edison narrowed her eyes, making countless calculations in her head.
Dolores Frieman also felt this woman's gaze on her was rather unfriendly.
But the customer was always right, so she didn't say much.
Mrs. Edison continued: "By the way, what's your educational level?"
Dolores Frieman was taken aback.
Why would Mrs. Edison suddenly ask her this question?
"Are you asking me?"
"If not you, then who?" Mrs. Edison's gaze was full of undisguised disgust.