“That was pretty off the charts,” Harley says, “but I’m talking about the reason why your ex-wife dragged out your divorce.”
You mean turned everything into a circus.
My ex is the poster child for why greed is one of the seven deadly sins.
I wince at the memory of the day that placed my name in the Guinness World Records, and it had nothing to do with my athletic prowess on the ice. “The best way to flip my mood is to bring my ex-wife up in a conversation.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Nothing good comes out of talking about Devlyn Frostburg.”
“Same goes for Chett Frostburg,” she says.
“Things didn’t work out between the two of you?”
She shakes her head.
Good.
“Remember the incident at the beach in the Hamptons?”
“You mean when my selfish ex-stepson threw a tantrum because I wouldn’t allow him and his drunk friends to use the hot tub and I didn’t want to babysit grown ass men and their girlfriends?”
She nods. “I was so irate by his childish attitude, when we got to the hotel you booked for us, I asked for a separate room.”
I sit a little straighter.
“I was told, I’d have to pay for it, as the only room left was an upgrade that was on your no-go list. I agreed. I didn’t want to hear Chett rant. Poor baby didn’t get his way after his stepdad opened his Hamptons cottage for him and his friends.” She rolls her eyes.
I like this woman even more.
“Chett was pissed off, but there was no way I was going to sleep in the same bed as someone who was that entitled.”
She didn’t sleep with him that night?
The thought was driving me out of my fucking mind.
“The next morning, as I was having breakfast, his mother sat in front of me and had the audacity to inform me I wasn’t good enough for her soon-to-be-Stanley-Cup-winning son because I didn’t have any hockey affiliations, therefore, I could never further his career. I’m the type who would manipulate her son into knocking me up––so I could mooch off him––but he’d get nothing in return. I was a liability. I stared at her in disbelief.”
“That’s Devlyn for you. She manages every aspect of her son’s hockey career––even who he hooks up with. In fact, she manages his hookup schedule. And vets every woman.”
Her jaw drops.
“My ex-wife is a piece of work. She’s the definition of puppet master.”
“And the definition of a cheating bitch.”
I arch a brow. “You followed the drama around my divorce?”
“With rapt attention.” She smiles.
“So, you’ve been stalking me?”
She brushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “You made quite the impression on me the first time I met you.”
“Was it my dazzling smile?”
She frowns. “I must’ve checked at least a thousand of your photos online, and you never smile.”
