Jess tapped one fingernail against her glass and glanced up towards the door to the restaurant, trying to seem casual about it. The glass was almost empty.
She sat in the chair with an elegance most women would kill for, one long leg draped artlessly over the other, revealing just enough skin to be enticing. The blood red gown clung lightly to her hips and chest while a beautiful silver bell and ruby necklace rested neatly between her breasts. Her dark hair was done up in gentle plaits, a few locks allowed to hang free softening her features.
And she was being stood up. By her own husband.
'Soon to be ex husband if he doesn't hurry up,' Jess muttered to herself and took a delicate sip of wine.
She stared at the ceiling for a while then allowed her gaze to graze the door. Still no Philip. One last sip of wine and she was ready to leave. She should never have agree to this date to patch things up.
'Ah, don't look like that,' said a man, sliding into the chair opposite her before she could rise. 'I'm here now.'
'Who-'
His grin grew wider. 'I'm your date for this evening! Dear Philly Phil couldn't make it,' the man said, tossing her husband's name around like a cat with a mouse. 'See, I object to your husband. He's telling me all about you, how you're a whore and a slut and you cheat on him behind his back.' The man held up a finger before Jess could speak. 'I know, I didn't believe him either. It was possibly the way he said it, sitting in the back of my limo, or maybe it was the sight of that strapping gardening man of yours taking your husband's dick up his arse. Who knows?' he asked, the grin verging on the insane now.
'All that matters,' he continued, 'is that dear Phil is even now at home with a dildo that is, frankly, disgustingly big, jammed up his behind and he's signing your divorce papers like you asked him to. And including a sizeable amount of his property in the deal.'
