“You’ll be fine!” Devin yells.
I follow Allysa into the kitchen, where she shoves a glass of champagne
in my hand. “Drink,” she says. “You deserve it!”
I take a sip of the champagne, but I can’t even appreciate it now that
I’m getting a look at her industrial-sized kitchen with two full stovetops
and a fridge bigger than my apartment. “Holy shit,” I whisper. “You
actually
live
here?”
She giggles. “I know,” she says. “And to think, I didn’t even have to
marry him for money. Marshall had seven bucks and drove a Ford Pinto
when I fell in love with him.”
“Doesn’t he still drive a Ford Pinto?”
She sighs. “Yeah, but we have a lot of good memories in that car.”
“Gross.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “So . . . Devin is cute.”
“And probably more into Marshall than me.”
“Ah, man,” she says. “That’s a bummer. I thought I was playing
matchmaker when I invited him to the party tonight.”
The kitchen door opens and Devin walks in. “Your husband is looking
for you,” he says to Allysa. She twirls her way out of the kitchen, giggling
the whole time. “I really like her,” Devin says.
“She’s great, huh?”
He leans against the island and says, “So. I think I just met The Beggar.”
My heart flutters down my chest. I think
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