MACEY

Fun? Fun my ass.

I hoped his date was a disaster. I hoped the model I saw in his office spilled red wine all over that stupidly perfect shirt of his. I hoped she tripped in her heels, broke a nail, and made the whole restaurant stare. Yeah. I hoped for all of it.

God, I was mad.

That bastard.

She was pretty—like, really pretty. The kind of girl who looked like she belonged on a yacht, sipping champagne and laughing at something expensive. Long dark hair, legs for days, the ...