Billionaire, Let's Divorce!

ANASTASIA

"Or would you rather wait in his office?" He glanced around the place and flashed me an apologetic smile. "I don't think the boss would appreciate it if I let you wait here."

I smiled. "Anywhere is fine, really. I just want to wait till he returns."

"Then you should wait in his office," he deadpanned. "Please, you're the boss' wife."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Then I turned to my left. It's this way, right?" I pointed to the furnished stairway.

He nodded. "Yes, let me escort you."

"Okay." I stepped aside so he could lead the way.

I didn't like all the formality and deference. It made me feel really out of place than I already was. If I knew my way, I would have preferred if he didn't 'escort' me.

I admired the design of the hallway as we passed through it. It all screamed Dennis. Dark and intricate.

My attention returned to the manager when he suddenly stopped walking and stopped before a dark aok door.

"Here we are," he said in a cheery tone as he began to wrap his fingers around the doorknob.

"Oh no, there's no need for that." I stopped him and quickly took hold of the door knob.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

Almost bowing to me and escorting me was enough. There was no way I'd let him open doors for me.

He looked flustered as he glanced up at me. "Oh please, let me, you're—"

"Boss' wife, I know. You've received me so well, manager. I appreciate it. You can go back to your work. I'll be fine now."

He looked like he was about to insist on opening the door, then he'd escort me into the room and pull out the chair I'd sit on for me but he seemed to decide against it as he inclined his head and muttered 'Okay.' Then he added, "You won't have to wait for long. The boss will be here soon."

"Thank you."

I watched him walk away, wondering what a good employee he was, as I turned down the knob and pushed the door open.

The second I stepped into the room, the smile on my face froze as I took in the long-legged girl seated on the only couch in the room. She had on the shortest skirt I'd ever seen.

She had her gaze fixed on me as she uncrossed her legs and slowly got on her feet.

I briefly glanced around the room. Oh no. Am I in the wrong office?

"Um, who are you?"

Her gaze raked me from head to toe and back before she answered my question. She folded her arms across her chest and the action caused her boobs to spill up the top of her shirt that was unbuttoned. She arched her brows, "Tabitha, and you are?" "Dennis' wife," I said slowly, unable to stop staring at her tiny clothes.

Even if this wasn't Dennis' office, who dresses to work like this?

I noticed her hands fell to her sides and they began to pull down her skirt as though they were stretchy and would magically become longer.

My gaze returned to her face. Her eyes flickered around the room, her lips curled in a shaky smile. "Umm... good day, ma'am. I'm the head bartender. I'm sorry, I was just here to drop some things," she rambled.

Before I could say anything, she had rushed past me and scampered out of the door.

I stared at the doorway for a while.

Eventually, I shook my head and turned around headed for the plush couch she had been sitting in.

"Dennis had better be careful of the employees he retains," I muttered to myself as I lowered myself into the seat. "For all I know, this one might have come to steal," I continued as my gaze quickly scanned the room as if I would be able to tell even if she took anything.

Besides, I was sure she took nothing. There was nothing in her hands and her outfit was to small to hide anything in.

As I sunk deeper into the chair with a sigh,my eyes closed and lips curved in a smile, I giggled. "I bet she came in to enjoy the wonderful feel of this couch."

It felt like hours since I'd been waiting. I let out a huff as I remembered the manager's words. "Didn't he say he'd be with me shortly?"

Maybe I should have just gone home. Atleast, he'd eventually come home and I was sure we'd definitely settle our differences.

Me thinking I'd lose our friendship and marriage was just anxiety. Dennis loves me and he'd definitely not let this ruin what we had.

Tired of just staring at the room

from where I sat, I pushed myself up and began to walk around the room. I ran my fingers along the smooth walls, fingered the books that talked about bar business or something along those lines; I've once tried to read them, they're boring as hell.

Then I ran my palm on his big desk. His desktop was placed on the right side of the desk, directly before his seat. I dropped into the swiveling chair and whirled in it. On the left

side of the desk, there were rows of

drawers.

I removed my shoes, reclined in the seat and opened the last drawer with my feet. I pushed it back in and proceeded to do the same with the one above it. But it wouldn't budge.

I pouted as I stared at it. Why wouldn't it open? Then I noticed the edge of a folder sticking out.

"Someone must have been in a rush," I said in a singy songy tone as I got out of the chair and squatted before the drawer.

I opened it, picked up the file to arrange it but the words on the cover caught my attention.

I frowned at the words 'sold' in bold capital letters. Curiously, I opened it and read through.

"Why would Dennis sell some of his properties?" I wondered aloud as I returned the folder in the drawer and returned to the seat.

I wonder what he's up to, I thought fleetingly as I made the chair roll, in search of my next time killer.

After what felt like another twenty hours, I threw my head back and groaned.

"At this point, I'll die of boredom," I murmured as I rose from the seat and made a beeline to where my bag laid on the couch. I grabbed it and made my way to the door.