Dear Ex Wife Please take me back by The Every Woman

ATHENA

My blood boils. What kind of idiots are these?

I'm about to step forward and give them a piece of my mind, but someone beats me to it.

Alex.

He steps forward slowly, grabbing a sack of ingredients without hesitation. His face is calm, but his voice is cold.

"Is your company bigger than mine?." He stops and asks the first man.

"Mr. King, you seriously-"

"Answer my question." He cuts him off.

Everyone is so quiet you can hear a feather fall. The man starts shaking as he forces a fake laugh,

"No. How can I compare to you, sir?" He responds, and I hold back a scoff.

Bastards who want to bully those weaker than them but fumble when someone more powerful is in the picture.

So pathetic.

"Or you," He turns his head to the other two. So lazily, he looks like they don't even deserve to be looked at, "Perhaps yours makes more money than mine does."

They both shake their heads quickly, mumbling something about how that's not what they meant. One of them even starts stammering, trying to backpedal like a coward caught in a lie.

Alex scoffs and slams the sack onto the table.

"If you can't do what you're told to, then go home," he says, his tone sharp enough to slice through bone.

"Why are you even here? Is that what you're going to teach your kids? That a little dirt on your hands makes you less of a man? That teamwork and effort are beneath you because you signed a few cheques?"

The silence is so thick that even the trees seem to lean in.

"No wonder your companies are still worth the same value as an expired coupon," he adds with a dry smirk.

Some people chuckle under their breath, others are nervous, and others are stunned.

It's like walking around eggshells with Alex, and they all know it. One call from him

and everything they own either increases in value or turns to shit.

As much as I hate to admit. He is a powerful man. And I find it hot.

I mean, who wouldn't?

Ethan steps forward right after, his arms folded, and his gray eyes narrowed in that lazy way that somehow feels more dangerous than yelling.

He clicks his tongue.

the ones who peak at mediocrity that act like lifting a finger

with a laugh, grabbing a chopping board from the supply table. Then, he turns

guess. Your

at the front with a clipboard, lets out a noise,

have to hold myself from bursting

flush a deep shade of pink as

do we start?" he asks, his voice as friendly as it

She blinks.

Twice.

points with a shaky hand to a section by the

"Uh....r-right there, Mr. King."

narrow my

needs to calm down before

now shame-faced and awkward, scatter toward the supply

One trips slightly.

something

have

don't." We all

claps

"You can get started!"

Everyone erupts into movement.

what mummy and Daddy

Miss Lorenzo!" They all answer in

space where the playhouse materials are

colorful fabric, and even paint. Rose grabs a toolbelt and

ever built anything in your life?" she

a pillow fort count?" I mutter, eyeing a wooden beam like it just insulted

snorts. "Close enough. Just don't hammer your

I can't get hurt

as the realization dawns

forgot the dangers of doing this

this one out."

I respond, leaving no room for arguments. She nods with a smile as the other mothers join us, and we get to work. Honestly,

straight. One mom is painting hearts

she says when someone raises

dads are a disaster in

sleeves rolled up and stirring

the grill with a spatula

does that

burns the edge of

board. Another

the pan and

sends aim stumbling back. Miss Lorenzo hurries over with a fire

s

frying a dragon,” she scolds