Soon-to-be-divorced September has thirty days to renovate herself at her parents’ Floridian retirement home before she can return to Boston and hope to avoid her cheating ex. Falling for the hot, bi bartender at the Iris—the local drag haven—certainly wasn’t on her agenda. But when rumors circulate of the Iris closing, September must act fast to save her new home and budding relationship, or risk having to start over, all over again.
“You royally fucked up.” Myra, my newly hired attorney, massages her temples. “You might as well have taken a dump on your divorce.”
I guess it matches my marriage then?
I don’t say that out loud. Myra is fresh out of fucks to give after having spent every last one negotiating with all the cops and lawyers in Boston to keep Madison, my soon-to-be ex-husband’s mistress, from pressing charges against me.
“That seems a little extreme.” My best friend Chloe rubs her hand across her very pregnant belly. “Crimes of passion happen all the time, right? Plus, September’s never had so much as a parking ticket to her name.”
“Neither do most serial killers until someone finds the dead bodies,” Myra deadpans.
Well that’s a pleasant thought.
“I’m really sorry that I messed everything up, Myra.” I cover my face with my hands and sink down into the worn leather chair. “In my defense—”
“You beat a car to a pulp. You have no defense, September.” She rolls her eyes as she thumbs through one of a dozen or so piles of legal papers—all of which represent some shitty aspect of my new reality. “Not that we want to advertise that to Chad’s attorney, of course. And you should be sorry, but not to me. You’re the one that has everything to lose right now.”
“Haven’t I already?”