The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

By the end of the day, I had a folder about her, filled with things she liked. I called a restaurant that would suit her and Logan both. I asked them to provide their most private table, and to do what they could to set a romantic amblance.

A passed a dossier to Logan with information on his date, as well as a list of suggested topics of

conversation.

Then, after work, because I was dedicated, I went to the restaurant myself, stopping at a flower shop along the way. I brought the date’s favorite flowers to the table and helped arrange the romantic candlelight with the maitre d“.

I personally requested the music that would play. I sat and listened for a while, to make sure the volume wasn’t too loud.

I imagined Logan sitting across the table from me. The lighting would suit him, highlighting his high cheekbones and the pronounced cut of his jaw. His eyes would sparkle in the candlelight.

Everything was perfect. Still, foolishly, I wished the one going on this date was me.

Shaking my head, I stood. I had done all I could here. No one would be able to say that I didn’t go above and beyond.

Even with my heart cracking, for reasons I didn’t want to think about, I was confident that this date would go much better than the last.

That confidence lasted all the way until the next morning, when Logan, standing in the doorway of his office, looked even more haggard that he had the day before.

Get in line. I was sure I looked like hell too. I hadn’t slept at all again, too busy stressing about that damn date, even if I was confident about it. It just made something uneasy grow inside of my gut, like I had a spikey cactus in there.

Maybe I was coming down with something.

“My office, Hazel,” he commanded, then disappeared inside,

Sighing, I stood from my desk and followed him. I didn’t even glance at Sabrina this time, knowing full well she’d have another shit–eating smirk and cutting remark.

I walked right into Logan’s office and closed the door.

He sat behind his desk this time, with his fingers laced together on top of it.

“Have a seat,” he said, his voice tight.

I marched to the chair and sat down.

“I need you to be upfront with me,” he said. “As your employer, I’m asking you for a straight answer.” “Okay.7

He cleared his throat, then leveled me with his most intimidating CEO stare.

“Hazel, why do you continue to sabotage all of my dates?”

I blinked, surprised. “Pardon?” I couldn’t have heard that right. Not after I’d been working so hard for aspect to be perfect.

every

“This was another failure of a date,” he said. “Everything about it was wrong. The music was too loud.”

I knew it wasn’t.

“The flowers were the wrong color.”

They were his date’s favorite color.

“The restaurant felt too stiff. It was difficult to start a comfortable conversation.”

The restaurant was no stuffier than any of the ones he’d gone to with Dylan before. It was no near as glamorous as some of the places he went with Natalie.

“Sir.” I didn’t want to accuse him of anything. But at this rate, he was nitpicking so hard, it felt insulting. My veneer was shattering.

That date had been planned perfectly. The only reason it could have failed was because the two people there did not want it to work,

“Have you considered that it’s not my planning that caused this?” I asked, as politely as I could, I smiled, but I had to grit my teeth to do it.

“What else could it be?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

I should back down, but I’d never been super great about doing what’s best for me. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

So I said, “You.”