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What better way to embody feminism than the go-to weapon of women- a slap to the face!

Fortunately, Alexander had his guard up and dropped the book in time to defend himself from the slap of justice.

"Let go of me, pervert." Sandra squirmed on the glass countertop as her wrist was grabbed by him.

Alexander obliged and inwardly commended himself for a job well done. This turn of events should stop the pesky girl from troubling him about job openings and whatnot.

If his assumptions were correct, the girl's goal is much deeper than getting a side job. Coupled with his advantage and not-so-secret hidden wealth, he can confidently assume without much narcissism that she is out to hunt.

Essentially, she was another Hackman. Another hunter who assumed he was an easy target.

Within expectations, Sandra stayed put while aggrievedly glaring at him with a question to stay in her character while hiding her calculated intentions. "Who is that girl? Why did you do this?"

Alexander perceived her accusatory reaction while also deducing what is most likely her plan. It was her misfortune to be paired with a much more calculative person like him.

"Why can't I and why should you care who she is?" He decided not to accuse her outright and just went with the flow. "I'm not doing anything wrong and besides she's just, unfortunately, dangling her legs and you just happen to see it, I don't see anything that warrants me being slapped."

"You're right." Sandra furrowed her brows and can't refute much. She was the one at fault for 'overreacting' but she just can't help but feel 'bitter' as she looked at him with pitiful eyes. "Maybe I am just too fed up with unfortunate girl's red sofa auditions that I wanted to slap the MeToo movement on you."

"So, does that mean that you won't pester me anymore for a job since I am a pervert and not the gentleman you thought I am?" Alexander smiled with triumph as he asked. Any other person would have been fooled by puppy eyes but not him.

His thoughts had already been churning as he turned his eyes to the golden shovel that his Shovel Knight toy is holding.

He also made sure that his line of sight was clear to the girl for her to see what he meant.

Sandra frowned deeply as her plans went astray when she got his Golden Shovel Knight meaning. The presence of the girl in the bed already meant that her chances had dwindled and that shovel glance sealed the deal.

Renting away from the Hollywood hubbub is to get intel on him, calling him a gentleman is to get in his good books while fighting for feminism is just a cover to hide her rage.

It was unfortunate that she met a formidable foe, so she just gave up and fessed up with ease. "Being rumored as one of the richest Silicone playboys has its merits."

It came as a surprise that she didn't become enraged at the accusation, so she was either an easygoing person or Dharman lied on his videos.

"That is in the past. What about you? Do you have a nickname in your profession?" Alexander asked and avoiding the gold digger topic. Since she fessed up already, no harm was done.

"I'm 18 and this is the first time I've done this, so having a nickname is too far of in the future." Sandra sighed as she strolled the shelves to get rid of her embarrassment. "Besides after I may have hooked you, maybe I'll retire on that and be the housewife of an older but secretly rich man."

"Nice career plan." Alexander commended. "Who planned it for you though?"

"Just me. After you fixed a friend of mine's computer, I asked around about you and I schemed." Sandra sighed again at her failed venture. "I've correlated rumors from people who know you, verified some of it, approached you as a pretty helpless girl looking for a side job, and the rest is history or maybe our present."

Even Alexander was impressed by this and was quite thankful for his womanizing roots. He was a veteran that break women's hearts but not the other way around.

"By the way, since I'm being frank and frankly exposing my shame. Can you tell me why all this?" Sandra outrightly asked while gesturing to the contents of the store. "I only know you are rich but I don't know why all this stuff. The store, the toys, the books, the movies, and all the things that make this place full of character."

"Me being me, I guess." Alexander answered and shrugged.

Sandra was not satisfied with his nonchalance over her outright truthfulness and ran towards the book area. "You are a programming graduate and yet you have books on film, animation, and business."

Alexander obliged and decided to share a bit of his past. "Those are my grandfather's books that he collected over time. Business was his forte while he stumbled with film and animation even though he owned a film company. The books on animation are also because my mother was an artist and wanted to have a Tom and Jerry of her own."

"What about the toys, the games, the comic books, the movies, the paintings, the computer stuff, and the instruments?" Maybe the girl was inherently curious, so she asked along as she strutted about and touch the stuff corresponding to what she said. Maybe this curiosity is what led her to dig deeper into his hidden wealth than any other girl in her dormitory.

"Just like any other person out there, I collect and enjoy entertainment. The paintings are by virtue of my mother. The movies are due to my grandfather. The toys, comics, games, and my thing with computers are courtesy of my father who was an enthusiast of those things." He unknowingly reminisced as he answered the girl.

Since she was outright, he felt it right to be outright as well. At least she didn't hurt anyone since her golden shovel couldn't dig his dirt.

"By the way Mr. Creed, please don't report me to the police." Towards the end, the girl didn't embarrass herself any further and left in a hurry. Perhaps she would turn a new leaf, or find the next target, or continue with her Hollywood dreams. Whichever she chose, she might just do fine with her unusual curiosity and smarts.

Alexander didn't trouble himself with the girl any further and just oversaw the contents of his store as he sat on his clerk seat.

He had pride in the weird assortment of things he is trying to sell. Despite his designated price tag on each of them, he had some aversion to whenever he imagined someone buying them away.

The girl's curious questions only stirred his deep psyche on his store valuables and the memories associated with them.

It each had peaks to be remembered and regrets that he hoped could be undone.

This is a work of fiction and a lot of unresearched topics so don't bash my trashy work too much.

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