The Bride Asked for My Taste. I Gave Her a Wedding Gift She Couldn’t Return.

used to own.

“You’ve been busy,” he said.

“So have you.”

He ignored that. “Sloane says you’ve been wonderful.”

“I try to be useful.”

“She doesn’t mean any harm.”

There it was, the sacred defense of cruel women everywhere.

“She means to marry my husband in my hotel while wearing my jewelry,” I said. “One wonders what harm would look like if she meant it.”

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