The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

“Am I an asshole?” Logan asked into the phone.

“Yes,” Dylan replied at once. “Next question.”

“Dylan. I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Dylan scoffed. “Do you know who you called? Did you expect a different answer?”

After everything, Logan didn’t really have it in him to argue, even with Dylan’s baiting tone. Dylan was itching for a fight, it seemed. Logan, honestly, was just exhausted.

So, rather than reply, Logan sighed low and deep.

Dylan and Logan had been friends of a very long time, long enough for Dylan to pick up on the non–verbal cues as to Logan’s mental state.

“You are an asshole,” Dylan said. “But is there some specific reason for the question today? Something tells me you intend for me to interpret generally.”

Happy for the opening, Logan delved into the story, explaining that Hazel’s words to grandfather at the high society party had triggered a series of unfortunate events that were leading to the quickening downfall of Logan’s company at the board and his grandfather’s hands.

Dylan listened quietly as Logan explained. When Logan paused, Dylan filled the blank. “There’s something else, isn’t there? You’ve been the Hatfield Patriarch’s perfect little soldier in the past without thinking twice. What makes things different this time?”

Was that true? Logan thought back, remembering all of his grandfather’s previous requests and his quick jump to action to fulfill them. He hadn’t wanted his employees to be unhappy in the past, but mostly he’d never worried himself with their wants.

His job, as he’d always seen it, wasn’t to cater to the whims of his employees, but to lead them to success through example and firm boundaries.

He’d handled these kind of uprisings in the past with a heavy hand. Hell, at the company before this, part of his specific job duties was firing people. He supposed it still was, but now he mostly passed off that duty to HR. It made him increasingly uncomfortable, since joining this company.

So where could the difference be, that helped him change from the steely man he had been into the more soft–hearted CEO he’d become?

One name filled his thoughts.

“Hazel,” Logan said. His affection for her had gradually clouded his judgement and shifted him from the inside out. He went from a man happy to let someone else worry about the employee needs to actively worrying about their unhappiness to the point he’d let himself think he was an asshole for it!

On the other end of the line, Dylan laughed.

“That isn’t helpful,” Logan grumbled.

“It is to me,” Dylan said, though slowly stifled himself. “Listen, you didn’t need to call me. The fact that you were already suspicious tells me that you already knew.”

“I’m being an asshole.”

“Extremely.”

Logan sighed. “I’m afraid it gets worse.”

“Out with it, then.”

For the next few minutes, Logan explained to Dylan about his demand of Hazel, for her to quit and let him take care of her.

“She fainted,” Logan said in his defense. “I was concerned.”

“Your resolution was to solve all of her problems for her,” Dylan said. “Instead, you should have given her support and encouragement to find her own path.”

“My wealth-”

“Means nothing to a girl like Hazel,” Dylan said. “God. How is it that she chose you over me? I’ll never understand it.”

Logan grit his teeth.

“You are used to being with women who want you for your money and the lifestyle you can provide for them,” Dylan said. “Hazel isn’t like that. She doesn’t want your money or your security. For some reason, she just wants you.” Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“I pushed her away,” Logan said.

“As far as I can tell, there are two sides to what’s happening at your company, Logan. Your grandfather’s side. And Hazel’s. You need to take a step back, realize which one you actually want to support.”

Logan gripped the phone receiver hard. “And then what?”

“Start groveling.”

Since she passed out the day before, I decided to leave at 6pm today. Maria and I walked out at the same time. We’d discussed going out for a girls‘ night, but were so exhausted we decided to have it a night in, instead.

Maria, Rachel, Megan, and I all joined a group phone call while we drank wine in our own apartments. It was slightly unfair, since the other three girls were in their same apartment while I was alone. But it was still nice to stretch out on my own couch and sip my own wine.

Even away from work, the conversation kept slipping back to it.

Maria was well and truly fired up. But at least she wasn’t crying anymore.

“They are working us to the bone,” Maria said. “The accounting department is thinking about setting up a walkout.”

“You know it’s bad when the accountants want to leave,” Rachel said. “Usually they make bank.”

“I’m sure they’re being paid well enough,” I added.

“Money isn’t the issue, at least for them,” Maria said. “It’s the blatant disrespect. No one cares about our

time, and Logan’s the worst of the bunch.”

Her words twisted inside of me. I knew she was mad at Logan for his failure to properly stand up for us, but I wasn’t ready to entirely cut him out just yet.

“I’m sure he would stop this if he could…” I tried.

“You don’t actually believe that,” Maria said, sharp with disbelief. “He’s one of them, Hazel.”

“It’s not…” I sighed, unsure how to properly convey what I was feeling. “It’s just that he…”

“She can’t talk shit about her husband,” Megan said. “Cut her a break, Maria.”

“I’d cut her a break if her husband wasn’t about to fire me,” Maria snapped.

I fell silent and sipped on my wine. Without my input, eventually, blessedly, Megan and Rachel were able to redirect Maria and the conversation to other things. But I remained checked out, thinking about Logan, about my urge to defend him even when I knew he was wrong.

I guessed I wanted to continue to believe in him, even when I knew I probably should have. He’d given me plenty of reasons to write him off. Maybe I was hopeless, thinking he might change and see things my way. All his life, he’d never had to look at the world from that of a blue collar worker.

Why would he want to now? Just because of me?

A knock on my door roused me from my thoughts.

“Someone’s at my door,” I said, interrupting a heated discussion on which pizza toppings were the best. Megan said pepperoni, Maria said mushroom. Rachel was ready to die on the hill for ham and pineapple. I’m going to hang up.”

“Call back when you get rid of them,” Megan said.

I clicked off the phone and pushed myself up off the couch.

The person at the door knocked again.

“Coming!” I called. I lowered my wine to the coffee table, then hurried toward the door.

Unlatching the lock, I pulled open the door.

Then I froze.

Just outside the door, standing in the hallway, was Logan, holding a bouquet of beautiful flowers – tulips and lavender, and even a few daises.

He held out the flowers for me.

Then he said, “Hazel. I’m sorry.”