Page 19 of My Rules

“Exactly. The very first thing he would do is sell it. He only wants it because it means something to you.”

“The bastard is weaponizing my house.” I pass her the wineglass and take a seat beside her, curling my legs up beneath me.

“He’s trying to manipulate you; that’s what he’s doing. He thinks he can force you to go back to him.” She sips her wine. “Five years with no divorce? Get fucked, asshole.”

I smile. There’s only one thing better than listening to myself rave on about John, and it’s listening to my friends do it. I don’t think there has ever been a more hated man on earth. He’s Kingston Lane’s public enemy number one.

“So he thinks he can move you here, away from all your family and friends, screw his secretary for eighteen months behind your back, get caught, and then bribe you to not divorce him.”

My eyebrows flick up. “Sounds really bad when you say it out loud.”

“That’s because it is really bad. He’s such a selfish asshole that I can’t stand it.”

I exhale heavily and sip my wine.

“What did Juliet say?”

“I haven’t seen her yet. She’s worked all weekend.”

“Well, Blake is going to go postal.”

“Do not tell Blake,” I warn her. “He came over last night for dinner, and I didn’t say a word. I am not in the mood for one of his lectures.”

“He’s just being a good friend.”

“You know he’s overbearing when it comes to John.”

She gets up, goes to the window, and peers through the curtains at the boys playing golf. “Still fine as fuck, though.”

I roll my eyes. “I thought you were all in love with Oliver?”

“I am.” She keeps watching the boys. “I’m taken, not dead.” She smiles. “There isn’t a woman on earth who doesn’t find Blake Grayson totally irresistible.”

I raise my hand. “Me.”

“Admittedly”—she raises her wineglass toward me—“you are the exception.”

“Back to my lack of finances. What am I going to do?” I sigh, uninterested.

Chloe continues to peer through the curtains as she studies the boys some more. “The only thing you can do.”

“Which is?”

“Open an OnlyFans.”

Chloe and I carefully walk down my front steps with our trays of food. Chloe made chicken satay skewers, and I made a large potato bake and some fried rice. We each have a bottle of wine under our arms as well. The boys are on their putting green; I still can’t believe we have a golf green in the middle of our cul-de-sac.

“Nooo,” the boys collectively cry as Antony sinks a golf ball into the hole.

“Fluke,” Henley yells.

“You guys coming over?” I call as we walk past them to Carol’s.

“In a minute,” Blake calls as he picks up the putter. “Just got to show these losers who’s boss.” He sticks his tongue out to concentrate as he lines up to the ball.

We walk down the road and up Carol’s front steps.

“Come in, my loves,” Carol calls.

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