His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 165

Niamh couldn't help staring at the man's face, her gaze so intense she barely remembered to blink.

Flynn caught her looking and let out a quiet chuckle.

"What, am I really that handsome?"

Realizing she'd been caught, Niamh snapped her eyes away, flustered.

"Sorry, I…"

He cut her off, tone sharp.

"Sorry? You think ‘sorry' is enough after you puked all over my shoes?"

Niamh's brow furrowed at his attitude. So this was Flynn Sinclair, the infamous divorce attorney in Marisport who'd never lost a case? Turns out he was a jerk.

"I had too much to drink. Look, how much were your shoes? I'll pay you double."

She pulled out a business card and handed it to him.

Flynn took it, arching a brow as he read her name.

"No need for that. Just get down and clean them yourself."

Niamh stared at him, suddenly much more sober.

"Mr. Sinclair, if you keep talking like that, I'll call the police."

He grinned, hands on his hips, looking insufferably pleased with himself.

"So you know my name?"

She clapped a hand over her mouth, inwardly cursing herself. Flynn's smile only widened.

"Oh, right, you're the woman who came by my office today, wanting to talk about a divorce case, aren't you?"

Niamh had signed in at the front desk earlier that day, but she hadn't expected him to remember. Apparently, after returning to his office, Flynn had glanced at the sign-in sheet and spotted her name and number—matching the business card she'd just handed him.

Flynn studied her from head to toe.

Not many people came to a karaoke bar dressed like they were heading to a job interview; even fewer looked as striking as Niamh.

He licked his lips.

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