The group was deep in conversation when a familiar female voice drifted over from nearby.
They all looked up at once—and sure enough, there was Wendy.
She was dressed provocatively, sitting among a group of women, knocking back whiskey like it was water.
One of them eyed her curiously. "Wendy, you just had a baby and you're already drinking? Aren't you worried about breastfeeding?"
"Breastfeeding my ass."
Wendy lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and laughed.
"These t**s are man-made, sweetheart. There's no milk to give."
Every man at Cedric's table went still.
They exchanged stunned glances, unable to believe what they'd just heard.
Even Cedric, through his drunken haze, began to sober up. Wendy's chest—it was fake?
No wonder it had always felt off.
"Wendy, I heard Cedric divorc
