The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

"Mr. Kaufman, is that her? And the man next to her-is that her husband? Don't tell me you've fallen for a married woman?"

Laird had spent the entire night worrying about Connor, only for him to turn up perfectly fine the next morning, dragging Laird out with the excuse of needing to shop for something important. Laird had expected them to be hunting for some rare treasure, but as it turned out, every item on Connor's list was related to painting.

Connor shot Laird a cold glance. "Mind your own business."

Truth was, Connor's plan had been to find something that might please Gwyneth. When pursuing a woman, you had to play to her interests. Jewelry, designer bags judging by Gwyneth's style, her car, and that outfit alone, which looked expensive enough to buy the average person a house, Connor guessed ordinary gifts wouldn't cut it. In Greenvale, folks might not recognize much, but anyone could spot handmade embroidery at a glance.

Since Gwyneth was an artist, something related to painting seemed like a safe bet. But before Connor could make his move, someone else swooped in and bought what he'd been eyeing. If he wasn't mistaken, the man with her must be the "husband" Gwyneth had mentioned. Yet, apart from some occasional conversation, there didn't seem to be much between them.

Laird couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "Can't you ever fall for someone single? Why do you always set your sights on unavailable women?"

Connor leveled him with another frosty look. "If you don't want to sit here, don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Laird promptly shut up.

Connor stayed quiet as well, merely observing Gwyneth and the man beside her. It was clear-anything Gwyneth was interested in today, that man was going to buy for her. In that case, nothing Connor purchased would mean a thing to her.

Laird whispered after a while, "that guy doesn't really look like

measured, "Of course he's not her husband. Look

for a

final item of

handmade, with a subtle pattern that appeared only when the light caught

eye. Connor didn't care much for clothes, but Gwyneth was watching Hans with

want that,"

but she'd never

opened his mouth to reply, "Sure-"

it myself. No need to

curious, piped up, "Why are you buying men's

nothing, but it

this

and Mrs. Everhart were

uncle,”