“Shut up.” I stepped to the side and let him in. “Coffee?”
“Tea, thanks. You can keep your bloody coffee.” He hanged his jacket on the hooks in the hall and followed me into the kitchen, looking around. “I see you’ve added some femininity to this place.”
“Believe me, it was by force,” I replied dryly and handed him his tea. “Here.”
“Thanks. Did you tell him yet?”
I shook my head and led him into the front room. I sunk onto the sofa and tucked my legs beneath me. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Oh, hey, baby, I forgot to tell you that your conniving, gold-digging bitch-whore of an ex-wife dropped by my place three weeks ago and threatened me unless I pay her two and a half million’?”
“It pretty much
