Stupid Husband
I have shared your number with Arkady Volkov. I told him it was just informational, no pressure.
Me
Thank you!
I sent over the divorce papers. Did you get them?
Stupid Husband
I have received so much mail. I will have to check.
Me
You do that.
* * *
Esme put her head around the door. “Jason Isner’s here to sign his contract.”
“Oh, great. Send him in.”
But Jason was already pushing his way by my assistant, waving a box, one I recognized. It was from Sweet Mandy B’s, a cupcake place in the city.
“Those had better be?—”
“Iced molasses cookies.”
“And?”
“A chocolate cupcake. Because you’re kind of extra.”
“You may enter.”
Grinning, he parked his ass in a seat and pushed the box toward me.
“Did you want coffee?” I asked.
“Actually, I stopped and got beverages for everyone.”
Esme brought a loaded tray holder inside. “I can’t believe you remembered my drink.” She looked all aflutter, though it was a waste of time. This man had eyes for only two women: a nerdy scientist and their baby girl.
“Mind like a steel trap, Ez,” he bragged. “Vanilla skim latte with a splash of cocoa powder—pretty easy to remember.”
Esme sighed. “Wish my boyfriend remembered. You know he?—”
“Thanks, Esme,” I interjected, which happily coincided with the phone ringing in the reception area. Once she had closed the door, I glared at Jason. “Why are you encouraging her?”
“I’m merely demonstrating the pinnacle of good boy-friending. I don’t mind being the model for men everywhere.”
I gazed upon him bitterly. Thank God I’d never found him attractive.
Picking up the double tall skim latte he had brought me, I gestured with my other hand. “Please may I see the latest photos of my goddaughter?”
“Eh, Cat and Rosie are her godmothers.”
“I’m her hockey one. I was holding her cute little fingers while you almost drowned her in that Cup during that heathen backyard baptism.”
