The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

me know when I can let them out. Right?”

“Yup,” I nodded. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Maria disappeared down the hall. I grabbed a notepad and pen and walked towards Peter’s office. I looked around to make sure no one was watching me. Most everyone around me seemed to be pretty occupied with their work. I slipped through his office door and quietly closed it behind me. I debated closing the blinds, but Peter never did, so I ultimately determined that would not be a great idea. I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself,

I looked around his desk. He had a calendar in front of his computer, but nothing was written on it. His computer screen was dark. I moved the mouse, hoping it would be unlocked. Nope, it needed a password.

One password idea popped in my head, and I typed it in Elena123.

“Password incorrect,” I read from the pop up on the screen.

I began to feel a mild panic. What was I thinking? What made me think I’d be able to glean anything about him from his office? Why didn’t I come up with a better plan before I came in here?

I looked around, but otherwise his office was pretty bare. One (locked, I quickly discovered) file cabinet sat in the corner, two chairs in front of his desk, and a bookshelf that contained all of two books. I flipped through them, but nothing stood out in them.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my blazer pocket.

“ABORT!!” Maria had sent in all caps.

Shit. It hadn’t been anywhere near twenty minutes yet! couldn’t leave without anything, but I was out of time. Then I heard another buzz. This time it came from Peter’s desk. I looked at the lit screen before it went dark again.

“This is Harlow’s Bar and Lounge! Your request for a reservation for 2 for 8pm tonight has been received. Please reply Y to confirm or C to cancel.” ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

Reservation for two, huh? I had a sneaking suspicion that was not for Peter and his wife.

I slowly opened the office door and looked around. No sign of Peter yet. I breathed a sigh of relief and started to speed walk back to my desk, still looking back to make sure the coast was clear.

“Hazel!” I heard Maria whisper loudly. I jumped and looked around. She had semi–hidden herself around the corner of the entrance to the hallway. I tip–toed over to her.

“Maria! What happened?”

“I’m so sorry! Someone moved the broom and I couldn’t find anything else to lock them in, then I heard them fighting..she was mad at him for leaving her so early last night to go back home to his wife…and next thing I knew they were storming out of the supply closet. I didn’t know what else to do!” Maria hung her head.

“Oh, no, it’s okay! I found out where he and presumably Elena will be tonight.” I said. “How do about a little girl’s night out?”

you feel

Maria and I donned our best, most conspicuous outfits (scarves over our hair) and walked into Harlow’s

around 7:45 later that night. I had never been before. There was a stage in the front, where a small band was set up and playing some soft jazz. There were several small tables in front of it. The tables each had a candle and a red tablecloth and the chairs were set in a way where those sitting there faced the stage. Behind the tables was a bar.

A waitress in a small black dress walked over to us. “Welcome to Harlow’s! Do you have a reservation?” “Uh…no, we don’t, Would it be alright if we just sat at the bar?”

“Absolutely!” She handed us two menus and we walked towards the bar.

The bar itself was largely empty. Most of the patrons were sitting at the tables in front of the stage. I looked around, but didn’t see Peter yet. Maria and I then grabbed the two seats at the very end of the bar… the only seats that didn’t face away from the stage.

“What can I get for you ladies?” The bartender asked, wiping out a glass with a towel.

“T’ll take a glass of white zin, if you have it?” Maria asked.

The bar door opened and I turned. Peter and Elena walked in. I nudged Maria, who turned and looked. She raised her eyebrows at me.

“And for you, miss?” The bartender asked me.

“Moscato please. And any information you have on those two that just walked in.” 1