The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

“Maria,” I said again, more forcefully, but she hung but,

The woman exited the bathroom stall and washed her hands. “Chin up, honey. Just order a new dress? Pay enough and the staff will bring it up for you.”

What a bizarre way to live, where throwing enough money at every problem made it go away. This woman was only trying to help though, in her own way.

“Thanks,” I said, happy that at least not everyone here was a total asshole.

She gave me a supportive smile and then left.

I turned, leaned against the sink, and waited.

Maria showed up thirty minutes later hauling a very large purse under her arm. She looked fantastic in a little black dress – a classic that looked great no matter how much, or how little, money you had.

“Did they check your invitation?” I asked as she came closer.

“They didn’t,” Maria said. “Look like you belong and they don’t question it. Though it helps that I didn’t try talking to anyone. That would have given me away. I’m not nearly snobby enough.”

I sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Maria gave me a look of sympathy, then glanced at the dress at the sink. The stain still hadn’t come out. The dress likely wouldn’t be salvageable.

“God, what a waste,” Maria said.

I’d been thinking the exact same thing for the past hour

“Well, no reason to be too upset.” Maria reached into her large purse and immediately withdrew a little red dress. She handed it over to me. “For you.”

Of all the dresses for Maria to have picked!

“I can’t wear this!”

“What, are you going to walk out there naked? Or worse – wearing that?” Maria motioned to the dress- dripping over the sink. “This is a great outfit and you look smoking hot in it. Logan and Dylan are both here? Time to blow both their minds, as well as every other stuffy man and woman out there looking to judge you.” Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

At the very least, I supposed, I could try it on. The blood–red dress was so tight that I had to take off my bra and my pants to remove the visible lines. The skirt was short, ending just above mid–thigh. I was playing a dangerous game here. If I dared to lean over, I might accidentally flash the whole room.

Yet, looking in the mirror, I couldn’t deny that I looked like a vixen from hell, here to seek revenge. I wasn’t just smoking hot, I was scorching. The dress hugged my curves, and the neckline dipped low enough to show the swell of my breasts.

–

This outfit wasn’t going to change any minds that I was a harlot sleeping with my boss, but to hell with

1. it. And then.

In this, I

ooked good. I felt good.

“Go get ‘em,” Maria said, smiling. She urged me toward the door.

Two steps outside of the bathroom door, I stopped. Logan was waiting for me there, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze on the ground.

ike the

As confident as I had been a moment ago, I was now gripped with uncertainty. If Logan didn’t like outfit. If he thought it was too much.

I wasn’t a coward, but I really wanted him to like it.

If he didn’t, I supposed I could just walk out the door with Maria, as I had thought was the original plan. Watching her dart away toward the exit now though, I was beginning to suspect she had always meant for me to stay, wearing this:

“Logan,” I said. Might as well put an end to my misery.

Logan lifted his gaze up to me. And he froze, his eyes going wide.

My heart thundered in my chest. Did he not like it?