Jennifer slipped underneath Stetson’s arm, propped up in the corner of the doorway, to stand on the front porch and glare at her ex-fiancé. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Paul’s eyes followed her form up and down, making her feel like she’d just taken a bath in used motor oil, before he finally spat out, “Is this how you dress at a client’s house?”

“This is how I dress on a Saturday morning. I repeat – what are you doing here?”

“Well, after I called and texted you – multiple times, I might add – and you didn’t answer, other than those few rude texts that I just couldn’t believe were coming from you, I decided to come up here and talk to you in person. I guess your overgrown ape here...

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