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She swirled her dirty martini, watching the lone olive drift in the glass like a tiny, defeated life raft. “So,” she said, her voice a low purr of controlled chaos, “the divorce attorney’s number is in your phone under ‘Golf Buddy.’”

Marjorie snatched the last olive from her glass and ate it. “Don’t be so sure. I hide the good lube in the same box as the tax returns. You’ve never found either.” adult comedy

“I tipped him your dignity. He said it was fine, but it had a small stain.” She swirled her dirty martini, watching the lone

The Last Olive