Free The Divorce Club by Jayde Scott Page A

this is Jamie." My hands are sweating and my heart flutters in
my chest. I've never felt more unattractive, old and insecure in my
skin.
    "Nice to meet you, Sam." Jamie hands her the
flowers and the gift bag. "I don't know what you like since I'm
only meeting you, but the shop assistant said makeup's always a
good choice."
    Sam takes out a glitter palette with a tiny
mirror and eye shadows in various colors. For a moment, she seems
genuinely thankful as she dips her fingertip into a shimmery black
and spreads it across her lid. "Wow. That's so cool. Thank
you."
    Now my daughter's going to look like a
hooker. Thanks, Jamie. I should be mad because Sam's not supposed
to take gifts from strangers, and particularly not gifts that
aren't appropriate for her age, but I can't because Jamie was just
clueless and trying to be nice.
    "Get your bag then," I say. Sam takes off up
the stairs as I inch closer to Jamie whispering, "Did you just try
to bribe her?"
    He grins at me. "It worked."
    "No more gifts, please." I shake my head and
wait for Sam to return, hundreds of thoughts running through my
mind. Jamie's making small talk, but I'm not listening because I
feel like the spinster aunt attempting to date the school throb.
It's plain sad.

Chapter 8
     
    Jamie maintains a conversation with Sam
throughout most of the drive while I keep wondering what his secret
is. Either he's a natural, or he has a trick up his sleeve that
makes her relate to him so easily. Whatever it is, I should be
happy about it, but instead, it makes me a bit jealous and
irritated. I mean, he's getting along with my daughter as though
they've been best friends forever while I struggle to make her like
me even though she's known me for thirteen years and I try to be
her chum on a daily basis. It's so unfair.
    Sam's phone rings. She picks up and starts
talking. I see my chance and lean closer to Jamie. "What's your
secret?" I whisper, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Sam's
not tuning in, but she's busy gushing over yet another boy.
    Jamie laughs, eyes glinting as he peers at
me. "It's called the 'show them you're not as old as they think you
are' technique. Chloe taught me."
    His wife. Chloe. I completely forgot about
her. I pull back abruptly as though I've just burned my fingers. A
shadow crosses his features as he notices and his smile vanishes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk about her." He runs a hand
through his hair, which is something he does very often, making me
assume it's some sort of reflection of irritation with himself.
"It's all so complicated. I wish I could tell you, but you wouldn't
understand."
    I wouldn't understand what ? But I
don't ask, because there's no point in putting pressure on him.
"You're married. It's only natural that you talk about her."
There's a hint of bitterness in my voice I can't hide. For the rest
of the drive, Sam chatters away on her phone while the silence
between Jamie and me becomes uncomfortable. Thank God, we finally
reach the cinema. Jamie insists he pay since he invited us, but I
don't want him to because owing him is out of the question. My
mother taught me if a woman lets a guy pay he'll assume he can get
imbursement later in some other way. It's a strange attitude I
haven't been able to shake off yet. After a few minutes of
discussing the issue of payment, we agree that Jamie and Sam get
the snacks while I purchase the tickets. I'm not keen on forking
out eight bucks per person, but I've devised this plan of
substituting some of our more luxurious groceries with Tesco
Value products to save the money over a period of a month or
two. Sam won't even notice.
    "What's on the big screen?" Sam asks as we
queue up to hand over the tickets.
    Jamie winks. "You're thirteen. What do you
think?"
    "Casino Jack?"
    "No R rated movies, young lady," Jamie says.
"Unless you want the cops to come and drag you out in handcuffs in
front of everyone. Wouldn't that suck for your image? And remember, jailbirds don't get pizza. I