My Ex Husband Wants My Number
Language: en
I was wiping down the espresso machine behind the counter when a man walked up, a faint flush creeping up his neck, and asked for my number. I just stood there, the damp rag frozen in my hand, staring at him. Because the man standing in front of me was Wayne Croft. Technically speaking, we were bound by a massive, multi-million-dollar corporate marriage. Only, he hadn’t bothered to show up on our wedding day. After that, we’d indefinitely postponed signing the actual legal marriage certificate, leaving us as nothing more than strangers sharing a footnote in a press release. Just yesterday,…