The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

Chapter 0191 This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

In Logan, Dawn saw a way to quick money. In Dawn, Logan saw just another leech.

In his younger days, he might have said to hell with it and told Dawn exactly where she could stick her blackmail.

But he was mid–career, with hopes of advancement. His grandfather had given him this chance to prove himself. If he blew this now, would he be given another chance? Likely not.

“I need some time to think about this,” Logan said. “That is a sizeable sum.”

. “It’s peanuts compared to what I could ask for, and we both know it,” Dawn said. “But sure. Take a day. I

need an answer by tomorrow, however, I’m not going to be questioned for why I withheld this proof for so long.

“Tomorrow,” Logan confirmed.

I returned to the office carrying three different bags of various items Dawn had asked me for, in addition to her lunch. With all this running around, my lunch hour was dwindling down. At this rate, I’d have to take bites while working at the tiny desk Dawn had given me outside of her office.

Stumbling with the bags, I headed there now. I arrived just in time to see Logan leave Dawn’s office. His face was dire, all severe lines. His shoulders were stiff, his muscles tense.

“Lo–Mr. Hatfield?” I corrected quickly. Last thing I needed on top of everything else was to break HR’s new rules while I was standing in the middle of the HR department. “Are you alright?”

Logan reached forward and plucked away some of the bags from my arms. He lowered them down onto my temporary desk.

I’m fine,” he said and tried to give me a smile. It was fake, far too clunky and lacking the usual mirth in his eyes.

I wanted to probe him for the truth, but this unfortunately wasn’t the place. These doors had ears, here in HR. Instead, I snatched his suit jacket off the back of my chair and handed it to him.

My shirt had fully dried mid–lecture from Dawn about dress code. Though I would remember in the future not to wear this bra without a tank top over it. It was simply too risky.

Logan accepted the coat, but he didn’t pull it on. Instead, he tucked it under his arm. He hesitated then, like he had something else to say. I waited patiently for him to say it.

“About the high society party,” Logan said.

“Yes?”

“We should find you a dress as soon as possible,” Logan said. “When you’ve finished your work with Dawn for the day, come to my office, and we’ll go to the usual places.”

Han

The usual places meant stores I’d never in my life be able to afford on my own. I doubted an assistant needed a dress all that fancy. No one was going to be looking at me, after all.

Logan must have seen the confusion on my face.

“I will not have my assistant embarrass me by wearing a cheap dress,” he said.

Oh. Yeah, that made sense. Even if he could have worded it nicer.

“Very well, Sir,” I said.

Logan nodded, and stepped around me, moving toward the elevators

“Where’s my lunch, Hazel?” Dawn called from within the office. “You are wasting time!”

With a curse, I grabbed the bags and went into her office.

I placed her salad down. She took one look at it, and smacked it off the desktop.

“What the hell is this? I said vinaigrette, not whatever this is,” she snapped. With an affronted breath, she said, “What does he even see in you?”