Hitched & Hitched Again: A Comedy of Marital Mayhem

Chapter 30

Elysia’s cheeks were still blazing hot at the thought of the bold move she had just made. Kissing someone first? That was something she never imagined she’d do in her entire life.

Back in college, her friends Blossom Blythe and Winona Newsom had pegged her as the poster girl for the conservative crowd.

She snorted, recalling the predatory look on that guy’s face. It was as if she was trying to get a free ride or something. If it hadn’t been to shut him up, why on earth would she have kissed him? And she had lost $250 in the process–enough to buy three sets of cozy fall clothes for

the kids!

Just as she was stewing in her misfortune, a sleek luxury car suddenly cut in front of them, performing an elegant yet aggressive maneuver that blocked their way.

The cab driver slammed on the brakes, his heart racing with fright and anger. He rolled down the window, ready to unleash a tirade.

“What kind of driving is that? Do you even know how to drive? You…”

But his anger deflated like a punctured balloon when he saw two men in black suits step out of the car. He clamped his mouth shut, not daring to make another peep.

Elysia peered out the window, curious. The window was knocked on, and a stern voice commanded, “Get out.”

Sensing trouble, Elysia scooted to the opposite door, asking, “Are you looking for me? Who are you?”

didn’t bother with pleasantries, yanking the door open and pulling her out of the car. As soon as her feet hit the pavement, the cab sped off, anxious to

“Who are you?

a bridge, where

car door swung open, and a woman emerged. She strode toward Elysia, her footsteps echoing with the click–clack of her

this woman, but the mask and

“Slap!”

across the face

stunned. Held back by two bodyguards, she couldn’t fight back and shouted, “Who are you? Why did

can seduce my man? I ought to

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Chapter 30

“Are you crazy? Who

Elysia’s words, slapped her again, twice more. “Don’t think because you’re pretty, you can climb the social ladder. Let me tell you, Tarquin is out of your league. He’s mine! If you so much as look at him again,

ordered, “Ruin that pretty face of hers. The sight of it disgusts

prettier than her to be near Tarquin. One

to demand who Tarquin was and instead pleaded, “There must be some mistake! I don’t know you, and I

sprawling backward. The high heels did her no favors; she fell, twisting her ankle, and the blade