Why I Bulldozed My Mothers House to Plant My Roses
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Summary
At the victory party for my fiancé, his assistant got wasted.
She staggered over to me and, with a clumsy sweep, knocked the glass of juice in front of me to the floor.
“You malicious bitch! Mr. Peter is allergic to mango—were you trying to kill him?”
“Chug three shots of tequila, and I’ll tell Mr. Peter to forgive you.”
Her entitlement was staggering, yet her devotion to Hudson Peter was absolute.
It made Hudson laugh.
He pulled her into his arms and looked at me with a practiced, weary expression. “She’s totally tanked, Ari. Don’t hold it against her.
