Page 28 of The Bad Husband

It’s good, indeed. Fresh and flavorful. That’s all I know about it.

As the night unfolds, we’re having a lot of fun.

We drink, dance, and meet new people. None of them is Frankie, or Frankie’s replacement. Or even Nicky, who, Keira confesses, was supposed to show up at this place as well.

She invited him here in the hopes that he and I would click.

It probably scared the poor guy away.

Around midnight, we’re getting hungry, so we leave the place and start scouring some local joints for food.

We end up at a small place where we order burgers to go and a cab.

Later, we eat at Keira’s.

Her place is small, and despite what she said to me before, it can’t accommodate another person.

So against my better judgment and regardless of her loud protests, I head home.

The cab drops me off in front of the gate at one in the morning.

I climb out and stare at the back of the car as it slowly crawls away from the estate before I move my eyes to the gate in front of me.

How hard can it be to climb over this little thing?

There’s no barbed wire, and I hope it’s not electrified.

Does it want to take a picture of me? Take a picture of me, stupid gate.

I move away from it and search for a section of the fence that is dimly lit.

Good luck with that.

Still a bit tipsy, I laugh by myself at how stupid this must look.

Rocking a sexy pink dress, failing to find a man in Georgia, I’m now struggling to climb over a stupid fence.

Finally, I find a little step that could bring me closer to my ambitious goal of hopping over the edge.

Had I not had alcohol still flowing in my blood, it would probably occur to me that no secured gate is connected to an unsecured fence.

Oblivious to what could wait for me on the other side, I place my bag on top of the concrete edge and do my best to pull myself up.

Giggling surely doesn’t help.

I swing a leg up and fail––my skirt won’t let me open my thighs much––before I roll my skirt up to my hips so I can do it.

Ready for my second attempt to swing my leg up, I suddenly get engulfed in a thick shaft of bright light and freeze with a leg lifted to my hip level, and my hands up.

As if I don’t look ridiculous enough, I glance over my shoulder, not knowing what to expect.

“What did I tell you?” Damon West barks behind a wall of light that blinds me for a moment.

I put my leg down, struggle to maintain my balance, turn to him, and lift a hand to my face to shield my eyes.

“Mr. West? Is that you?”

I need to be polite. What if Henrietta is with him? Wasn’t she supposed to return in a week?