The Virgin Wifes Fake Affair
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Summary
The gossip columnists know the score. Grayson Ashford would sooner crash on a bottle service girl's futon than touch his own wife. Me. Sloane Reed.
The only thing keeping the tabloids in business is the countdown to the day Mrs. Ashford finally stops being the city's highest-paid virgin.
Gray was ruthless when the cameras flashed. His eyes, cold and direct, drilled into mine.
“Go have your own fun,” he’d said, his hands tucked casually in his trouser pockets. “If you can’t stand it, the door swings both ways.”
He turned and strolled away.
