“Cut,” she snorted. If anyone was doing the cutting, it was her.
She stood.
Screw texting. She would march over, retrieve her purse, and spend the night crafting a revenge plan so exquisite Ms. Birdie would send a thank-you note.
She yanked open the door and stopped.
There, tucked into the cushion of the porch rocking chair, sat her Birkin.
A drop and run.
Message received.
Marcus D Grant had made his final move. No text. No knock. Just a quiet delivery and the sound of a pair of metaphorical scissors cutting her loose.
She snatched the bag and stomped inside.
“Silent treatment,” she muttered. “That’s cute if he thinks it means he got the last word.”
She poured a glass of wine. Maybe two. Then she spotted this month’s Gi Gi’s Crossing Senior Citizen Gazette, still folded on the coffee table.
She had given it to Ziggy earlier in the week with instructions to check the new feature tucked into the bottom corner of the back page and to be prepared to discuss it over drinks. They had never gotten around to it.
NEW THIS WEEK: Knit & Tied
A seniors-only online personals service for those who prefer their intimacy with a little intrigue. Discretion encouraged.
Frankie stared at the ad while her brain conjured something deliciously awful.
Revenge, check. With flair, check. Long shelf life, check. Bridge burned, question mark.
This would not just sting. It would clog his voicemail, crank the rumor mill, and make potential clients Google him twice.
She took another sip of wine and opened her laptop.
Pulling up the online senior-citizen dating application, she began typing.
Username: MaximilianTheHammer
Looking For: Mature companionship with a healthy respect for rope etiquette and orthopedic support.
Ad Copy: Temporary resident seeks open-minded senior companion for emotionally grounded conversation and light disciplinary play. Must enjoy quiet nights, hard truths, and the occasional safe word. Bonus Points: if you wear orthopedic shoes.
Phone Contact Preferred: 867-5309. Ask for Hammer. Or leave a voicemail.
She hit submit, took a satisfied sip. “Revenge comes in stages.”
Text to Ziggy.
Frankie:I need a long water hose and a ride to Manhattan tomorrow morning.
Ziggy:Boots or loafers?
Frankie:Boots. Mud is murder on suede.
Chapter 42
Marcus stood in his kitchen barefoot, half-dressed, and hungover enough to regret having taste buds. The plan was simple. Coffee. Then more coffee. Then silence. If the universe was generous, maybe a little peace about the woman who’d colonized his brain.
