Page 38 of Opening It Up
They both ignored her and Brayden jerked his phone away so the other man couldn’t grab her number that way.
Just then, a limousine pulled up, and my wife stepped out of the car.
“Damn Leopold,” Brayden hissed. “That rich bastard. I wish I didn't have to do this stupid job. ThenIcould have taken her out for a late lunch.”
Lily-Mae put her sunglasses on as she got out of the car. There was a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I saw her lips were pink and puffed up, her hair disarranged artfully, and she was adjusting her skirt.
“So what kind of music do you like to listen to?” this woman asked.
Jeff said her name and I couldn’t even hear it. Couldn’t even have said what color her hair was.
“I’m such a major fan of the podcast,” she added.
But I had only one thing on my mind.
The fact that myGod, did my wife look hot.
She was wearing a tight pin-striped shirt, and a tight black skirt with high heels, and she looked relaxed and happy.
Leopold put out a hand and helped her out, then wrapped a big arm around my wife's waist and bent down and kissed her.
“Give me that phone,” the other jackass said, grabbing for it. “Come on, bro.”
“I absolutely will not.” Brayden said, putting the other man in a headlock.
As they began to scuffle, Jeff looked up from his morose perusal of his phone.
“Dude, this divorce is really gonna cost me,” he said. “Like a lot.”
I had made a huge mistake.
I didn’t want to do this a moment longer. I wanted my wife back.
I watched as Leopold’s hand tightened on Lily-Mae’s waist.
What had they been doing in that limo? I was so choked with jealousy it felt like I was going to throw up.
“I heard he has a monster dick,” Makayla hissed in my ear. “Like bigger around than my thigh. That’s what I heard.”
Brayden shoved his coworker aside and bounded to the door to open it for my wife.
“Lily-Mae!”
There was a brief scuffle for who got to take her purse but then both men led her to a booth.
They were sitting directly behind me now.
She didn’t even look at me, and I tried not to hyperventilate, tried to concentrate on this random woman (did her name start with a K? Kourtney? Karli?). But all I could think about was my wife in the booth behind me, and the two men arguing about who got to take her out on Sunday.
“Come on,” Brayden coaxed. “It’ll be a perfect day for floating down the river.”
“Nonsense,” Leopold said. “Lily-Mae doesn’t want to spend all day in some filthy mud puddle watching you make armpit noises. She wants to go wine tasting with me.”
“She can get a bottle of wine on the river,” Brayden insisted. “Problem solved.”
“I’ve seen what you drink,” Leopold snorted. “I’m not going to let her get food poisoning hanging out with you and your day-old tuna sandwich ass friends.”
My wife seemed to find this all very amusing.
