To the world she looked like the typical self absorbed selfie-taking girl. Only, she wasn’t clicking pictures of herself.
The short skirt lifting in the breeze, the flick of the hair, the subtle thrust of the chest, and the not-so-subtle pout, was all a pretence. Her fourth guise of the week.
Across her, Jason whipped of his shirt, flaunting his sweaty washboard abs.
The mark walked past, oblivious, his eyes interested only in the brochure.
Time to make the call.
“Mrs. Adam. I’m sorry but I don’t think your husband is the cheating type. You’ll have to get that divorce some other way.”
In response to Bikurgurl’s 100 Word Wednesday: Week 47 challenge.