Minutes after being served divorce papers, I receive a phone call that warps my mind.
If it isn’t bad enough my soon-to-be ex filed for divorce on our fourteenth wedding anniversary, he also used my company card to spoil his mistress with a honeymoon suite and a thousand-dollar floral arrangement.
I’ve not been handed a single flower since we wed, so when the hotel clerk requests to see my card before processing the payment, I accept the opportunity unknowingly granted to me.
With the tiny teddy I had hoped would milk my husband of one measly orga$m covered by a thin coat, and my cell phone recording, I burst into the honeymoon suite, gung-ho for the evidence that will offer me the ultimate revenge.
There isn’t a single person in the entire suite.