The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

I didn’t hear from Dylan for the rest of the weekend. I tried not to worry about it too much. Dylan’s a professional, after all. Whatever he had thought of that had called him away must have been important. But that didn’t mean he would forget about me and my request.

I wanted to be divorced, and put this whole ugly of my life behind me.

Maybe, part of that, was looking for a new job.

Monday morning, 8 am on the dot, I sat at my desk ready for the day. I hesitated before I opened my email, half expecting to be called into Logan’s office at any moment and further reprimanded for what *happened during his last date. NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

But ten minutes ticked by, then twenty. And no one called me away from my desk.

What I wasn’t sure of now, though, was what I should be doing? I wanted to go back to my real work tasks, but if Logan wanted me to do anything other than plan more dates, he surely would have said so.

Sighing. I opened the desk drawer where I stored Logan’s datebook, and readied myself for more emotional distress for the day. Letting other women live out my romantic fantasies was not very fun.

Yet, when I reached for the datebook, it was gone.

Panic shot through me. I had put it in my desk Friday end of day. I was certain of it.

I opened the drawer wider, but it was gone, I shuffled around some other papers and pens in a mad rush, hoping I would find it tucked away behind something. There were only so many places in this drawer it could be.

Closing that drawer, I instead opened the next and searched through that for the datebook. It was. emptier than the last drawer. It wasn’t there.

Nor was it in any other drawer in the desk, or in the file cabinet close to my station, I checked on the floors, behind the computer, under the monitor stand and my keyboard. Anywhere it could have conceivably and even unconceivably get to, I checked.

Did I leave it on the copier? I never made copies from it, but who knew? I searched. Nothing.

Had it fallen into the trash? The trashcan beside my desk was empty. Oh, God, what if the cleaners had already taken it out. I picked up the phone.

“The weekend’s trash is down in the loading bay,” the head of the cleaning department said. “I wouldn’t recommend going through it, but you can if you need to.”

1 have to find this datebook,” I explained. “It could mean my job.”

“I’ll hold off the garbage truck as long as I can, but you better be quick then,” the cleaner said.

“I’ll be right there!”

Hanging up, I jumped from my chair.

“Lose something?” Sabrina called from her desk. She typed merrily away at her keyboard, even as she turned an amused glance my direction.

A sinking feeling opened up in my stomach. The way she was looking at me… She seemed too pleased with herself.

“Did you have anything to do with this?” I asked.

His smile widened. “I can’t be held responsible for the things you accidentally throw away. If you were more responsible, maybe Mr. Hatfield would be able to depend on your more.”

Her words sliced through me more than I should have let them. But the truth was plain. I had lost this datebook, the most important key to my current duties. Admitting it would make me look like a massive failure.

Regardless of whether or not Sabrina had been the one to throw it away – I greatly regretted not locking my desk – I needed to be the one to find it.

Even if I had to crawl through the trash to find it.

Turning from Sabrina, I grabbed my phone and headed toward the elevator. On the way, I quickly texted

Maria.

‘Logan’s datebook is missing. Excuse me while I dumpster dive.