A mistress confronting her successor—I felt like I was in a daytime drama,

and all I could do was laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Just as my laughter faded, a muffled snicker echoed from behind me. I spun

around, my heart skipping a beat, only to meet the gaze of a man with a

naughty smile and a leather jacket, leaning casually against the wall. “Mrs.

Ferguson’s taste in drama is… unique,” he remarked, with a hint of mischief in

his eyes.

Caught eavesdropping, I felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly dissipated. “Aren’t

you doing the same?” I retorted.

The man smiled. “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Well, you have now.” Our banter was cut short as I scrutinized him. “And you

do you

He straightened up, shedding

then, with a nod, said, “Mrs.

again.”

word, he walked away, only to

her ponytail. “Dorothy, with your

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the main player from the sideline, maybe try not being a

with mean

in anger.

disgusting term from you again, I’m

letting her go, casting

to reveal the truth to his “girl,”

why you’re called

was surprised. A quick mental rundown of RiverCity’s elite

he was, dressed down and

Gladys’ 80th birthday bash.

then, my

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