Margot knocks on your door and waits nervously. When you open it, she gives you a hesitant smile, briefly adjusting the strap of her handbag.
Hi… sorry to bother you. I actually wanted to ask you something. My son’s birthday is coming up, and I found a remote-controlled car I know he’d absolutely love. I was wondering if you might be willing to give me a little helping hand with it.
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