Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

The wealthy widow did indeed do just that, reaching out and yanking the bow tie from Felix’s neck.

A chorus of “Wow” erupted from the group of women, their eyes shimmering with mockery.

Human nature is a curious beast; it seems that whether you're a man or a woman, once you amass a fortune, you're prone to

corruption.

If you don't turn bad, it's probably because the temptations haven't been juicy enough.

Sitting in the farthest corner, Carol had declared at the outset her wish for speace, so no one bothered her with questions.

When she saw Felix's bow tie being pulled off, a hint of amusement sparkled in her eyes.

As distasteful as the scene was, she had to admit Felix was rather handsome.

Especially from her vantage point, where she could catch a glimpse of the muscle definition just below his chest.

The rich widow grabbed Felix by the hair, her tone dripping with feigned sweetness.

"I heard that when you pop the cork on this bottle, you can pocket a neat $200 commission. Felix, you've been quite dismissive

when I've ccalling lately."

Felix, blessed with the patience of a saint, still managed a smile despite the circumstances.

"Odelia, please, let's not do this."

Such words, when spoken by a man of his looks, were devastatingly charming.

Odelia patted his cheek, "Alright, I won't hassle you. Tell you what, down three drinks, and I'll let you go."

at the

to see a pretty face and you never shared

her ex-husband and now she's out to snag

does have that youthful glow, like a college boy. A hundred times better than the old gloomy husbands we

home."

humiliating than the last, but Felix maintained his

if a server opened

half a month and had set

but he had refused.

him again today only

a clear spirit from a nearby

this. Three glasses and if you do, I'll open five bottles of the good stuff and give you

usually mixed, not drunk straight. For anyone with a delicate stomach, it could

a life here? Especially that of a waiter? Maybe

present couldn't

He took the glass, tilted back his

adam's apple bob and swallowed hard

second. Don’t say I'm hard on you. I fancy you, want

eyes,

had spread across his cheeks, and his fingers trembled as

the ears following the fiery trail down

his discomfort, swapped the third drink for an

with the scent of liquor, and no one stepped in to

crowd lived for excess, with several hosting toyboys post-divorce, and others, still married, playing the field, living

lives from their spouses.

marriages of convenience, where a divorce would be a messy affair, splitting assets impossibly complex.

sign agreements, allowing each

rarely attended these gatherings. Aside from boasting about their

one-upmanship in wealth.