Sam laughed again as she stood up. She started to fasten her coat. All she could think about was the new cozy condo she was going to return to. She was going to cook a wonderful dinner, build a fire, and settle in with a good book. She didn’t know if that would be before or after she cried her eyes out.

“I don’t want it. I don’t need it. Is there anything else, Mr. Prizzi?”

“You have to take it,” the lawyer sputtered.

“No. No, I don’t have to take it. I’m not signing anything either. From here on in, you can talk to my attorney.”

The lawyer snorted. “That’s what the second Mrs. Rainford said. It didn’t get her very far.”

The second Mrs. Rainford. Surely she’d heard wrong. She shrugged. “Ask me if I care.”

“That’s exactly what the third Mrs. Rainford said. In the end she did care.”

The third Mrs. Rainford. That had to mean she was the fourth Mrs. Rainford. She had to get out of here immediately so she could think about what she’d just heard. She was almost to the door, the lawyer following her, when she turned, and said, “What did the first Mrs. Rainford say?”

Prizzi started to sputter again. “She said she didn’t give a good rat’s ass what her husband wanted, and she would take him to the cleaners. Of course, that didn’t happen.”

Sam opened the door and sailed through. Douglas had had three other wives he hadn’t seen fit to tell her about. Prizzi caught up with her at the elevator. Up close and personal, he still looked like a skinny worm. He reached out to touch her arm. Sam jerked away. “You have to sign the paper or you don’t get the check, Mrs. Rainford. The bank in the lobby is giving a free blender if you open a new account,” he said.

Sam pierced him with one scathing look before she stepped into the elevator. “I have a blender, Mr. Prizzi. Tell Mr. Rainford he can just kiss my ass.”

Hysterical laughter bubbled out of Sam’s mouth as she rode the elevator to the first floor of the office building. She dabbed at her eyes, not caring if anyone saw her or not.

Three ex-wives. Three!