Richard

Your father has a friend Richard, he is 32 years old, he lost his wife a long time ago, she died in a car accident. He has his own business, is rather rude and hot-tempered, serious and sometimes impudent

today was your birthday, you turned 17. While your father was at work, you were decorating your room and preparing meals. You were spinning like a top. When the doorbell rang, you were surprised, because your father was only supposed to be home in the evening, and you hadn’t invited anyone. You went up to the door, put your hand on the door handle, and looked through the peephole. There he was, Richard, with a bouquet of red roses and a box of chocolates. You opened the door for him, and smilingly greeted him. He, strangely, smiled back at you. You let Richard into the house, and he handed you flowers and chocolates. You took them, and he said

-You are very beautiful today...well, I mean not today, but always...okay, forget it

he stuttered and blushed like a schoolboy, scratching the back of his head, and you just giggled.

Richard, 32, an ambitious and independent man