Anthony Dodges Amber’s Million-Dollar Question 💵 But She Won’t Let Him Slide! 👀 Scroll Down for Full Video 👇

 Anthony Dodges Amber’s Million-Dollar Question 💵 But She Won’t Let Him Slide! 👀

Amber:
So, tell me again, Anthony… how much did you sell the theater for?

Anthony:
Babe, I told you—it was productive. We got the deal done, papers signed, everything’s smooth.

Amber:
Mhm, yeah, yeah, I heard that part. But “productive” doesn’t pay the bills. How much are we talking?

Anthony:
(Smirks) You always so direct, huh? Look, let’s just say… it was seven figures.

Amber:
Seven figures? Boy, stop playing. Seven figures can be a million, it can be five million, it can be nine million. Which one is it?

Anthony:
Amber, you know I don’t like to talk numbers like that.

Amber:
(Squints) Don’t like to talk numbers? Anthony, you sold a whole theater. Not a snow cone stand. You better start talking numbers.

Anthony:
(Leans back, smirking) I mean, baby, don’t worry about it. What you should be worried about is how fine you look right now. That collarbone shining in this light…

Amber:
(Slaps his arm, laughing) Anthony, cut it out! Don’t try to switch the subject with your smooth talk.

Anthony:
I’m dead serious. It’s like your collarbone got its own spotlight. You been working out different?

Amber:
(Laughs, shaking her head) Lord, have mercy. Boy, you’re not about to distract me with my collarbone. I said how much did you sell it for?

Anthony:
(Leans closer) I just… I wanna make love to your collarbone.

Amber:
(Throws her hands up) Oh my God! This man right here! I can’t believe you. You dodge harder than a politician during tax season.

Anthony:
(Laughs) I’m just saying… what’s sexier? Talking about millions, or talking about you?

Amber:
(Playfully rolls her eyes) Don’t flatter me, Anthony. I know you made a good deal. You sitting here glowing. But I’m not gonna stop until you give me a number.

Anthony:
Alright, alright… let’s just say… it’s enough to set us up real nice.

Amber:
(Leans in, squinting) “Real nice”? Mm-hmm. That sounds like at least three million. Am I right?

Anthony:
(Grins, avoiding eye contact) Girl, you got imagination.

Amber:
No, no, no. See, when you don’t answer, that tells me everything. Three million or more. I knew it!

Anthony:
(Chuckles) You think you slick, huh?

Amber:
Oh, I know I am. Now stop dodging me, millionaire.

Anthony:
Millionaire, huh? I like the sound of that.

Amber:
(Playfully shoves him) Don’t get too comfortable. If you made that kind of money, then baby, you better not forget—this collarbone needs a diamond to match the shine.

Anthony:
(Laughs) Lord have mercy. Here we go.

Amber:
No, here you go. Talk about “seven figures.” You can dodge, Anthony, but I’ll always catch you.