Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- About the Publisher
When Robin’s laughter stopped suddenly, I looked over her shoulder and nearly choked on my mouthful of water. There, on my screen, wearing a charming grin and striking a macho shirtless pose, was Grant. Not only was he cheating on his wife, but he was cheating on his mistress too. Not that I had any room to judge, but still . . . the stronzo! I glanced up at Robin, whose face was drained of color.
She scrolled down to his profile description, and I covered the screen with my hand. “Are you sure you want to read that?”
“No, but I have to, don’t I? My husband’s back in the dating game, apparently. As his wife I should know what he’s marketing himself as, right?”
Okay, she was handling this a little too well. Screaming, sure. Yelling, of course. Crying, obviously. But the icy demeanor she wore didn’t fit. I removed my hand and watched her eyes fly over his profile, again and again:
Fun-loving pediatrician looking for casual no-strings with similar interests.
“What does that even mean, similar interests?” Robin muttered under her breath.
I knew exactly what it meant. Someone who wanted discreet, uncomplicated sex. Nothing more, nothing less. But I was pretty sure Robin didn’t need to hear that; she’d fill in the blanks on her own.
“And as if mentioning he’s a doctor will score him brownie points?” she added with bite.
It probably would, actually. More likely to get hits if you had money. There were plenty of promiscuous single girls looking for a sugar daddy to take care of them.
When she looked at me, I wasn’t sure if it was for affirmation or denial. Did she want a that cheating bastard or that’s probably not him?
“So he wants to play games, huh? I’ll play a game.” Her voice was saturated with a darkness I couldn’t read. What was she planning?
“Robin, honey, what are you doing?” I almost didn’t want to know, but I needed to protect her from herself. Vengeance led to the grave.
“I’m creating a profile. Then I’m gonna trap him and use that to take him down. And when I’m done with him he’ll be ruined professionally and won’t have a penny to his name.”
Spoken with the calm of a breezeless day. So matter-of-fact it sent a chill up my spine. I’d never seen this side of Robin—the sinister, ruthless side. God help me if she ever found out what I did. Grant was her husband, the father of her children; I was just a friend.
Within minutes she had created a profile, uploaded some random beautiful woman’s picture she found online, and created a profile description:
Single nanny looking for a casual encounter. Must be a gentleman who knows how to treat a lady.