Replacing My Ex Read Online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 77663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
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“What do you mean?”

“Right now, there are about one hundred kids running around out there; my daughter is a popular kid who’s in every and anything the school has to offer. Believe it or not, some of her friends and acquaintances aren’t here because they’re away or had prior appointments. But what’s important for you is that their parents are also here and these parents always do their best to outdo each other when it comes to parties. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Oh, Henry and his family just pulled up. Let’s go say hi.”

I wanted so badly to know how a doorman at an apartment building, luxury though it was, knew these obviously wealthy people, but of course, there was no way I was going to ask.

“Henry is a doll. When Isabell was a newborn, I got stuck on the side of the road in the rain. You can imagine my panic and fear. Then this stranger stopped his car behind mine, knocked on the window, and told me to keep it rolled up while he took a look.”

“He then asked if I’d called my husband and took the phone from my numb fingers to call Carter and tell him the situation. He stood out there in the rain until Carter showed up, and by then, he’d already fixed the problem but wasn’t about to leave me stranded out there alone. He refused to accept payment and let’s just say he’s been a part of our family since then. He’s Isabell’s Godfather and she worships the ground he walks on. Now, she’d have another reason to love him once she gets a taste of your cupcakes. That girl does love her cupcakes.”

She explained all this as if reading my mind, and I sheepishly nodded my head. I knew Henry was a nice guy; I’m glad to see my perception isn’t as skewed on everything else as it had been with my marriage.

For the next hour, I stood in the back garden, which had fewer people, and enjoyed the view. I wish I had a garden like this to escape to; I’d never leave. I heard my name being called and turned to see Millie and another woman my age coming towards me.

“You made these?” Now, I work in finance, so I know money when I see it, and she was dripping in it. Not the over-the-top reality TV star kind of flash; this was old-world money. From the Hermes sandals that you wouldn’t think much of unless you realized that they were alligator skin and cost about eleven grand a pop.

Her jewelry was the kind you’d find at an old estate sale that you needed an invitation to attend, and she smelled like heaven. Her skin didn’t look like she’d ever had a blemish in her life. “Yes, ma’am, I did.” She looked me over from head to toe then passed me a card from her Kelly.

“Call me on Monday.” She turned and walked away, leaving me and a grinning Millie to look at her disappearing back.

“Who is she?” Millie pointed off in the distance in the direction of her husband and a tall, distinguished gentleman who had to be in his fifties.

"You see the man talking to my husband? That’s his boss; she is his wife. Mrs. Evelyn Garston.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Maybe because his family practically developed the whole state.”

“Oh yes, of course. But why did she give me her card?”

“Evelyn is the quintessential hostess in our circle. She likes parties. Every time you sneeze, she’s planning another one. Let’s just say if she likes your stuff, you won’t need another client in this lifetime, and I already know she likes it, so congratulations.”

“I think I’m a bit lost.”

“Let’s put it this way: you see this crowd? This isn’t even a fraction of what her parties look like. It’s usually five hundred minimum. Then there’re the charities and galas; I almost pity you if you choose to work with her; you’d be kept on your toes. Remember, don’t undersell yourself. If we paid six dollars per cupcake, she has to pay eight or more.”

“Why is that?”

“That’s the rules, dear. No one outspends the Garstons. How would it look if she paid the same as us lesser peasants?”

“Are you? I mean, is she…?”

“No, believe it or not, she’s one of the nicest people you’d ever meet. Both her and her husband. They’ve been married since she was twenty-three, and he was in his late forties. Love at first sight, and he was a man who swore he would never get married. He spoils her rotten, and she adores him.”

I was a bit overwhelmed by all this. I guess I’d grown so accustomed to life kicking me in the ass that I second-guess everything these days. But what kind of fairy tale is this?


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