The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Yvette tried to stop Hawthorne, but Hans stepped in to block her path.

"Miss Yvette, please, let's be reasonable."

Her heels clicked to a halt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hans couldn't exactly spill the truth—that Mr. Everhart and Gwyneth were already

married. The couple hadn't made any public announcement, and as an assistant,

he'd sooner lose his job ten times over than leak something like that.

"Use your head," he said, tapping his temple. While Yvette stood there, stunned

and speechless, Hans hurried after Hawthorne.

It took Yvette a few minutes to process what just happened. Then it hit her—

Gwyneth must have seduced Hawthorne. That had to be it. Why else would a

man like Hawthorne keep someone as troublesome as Gwyneth around the

company?

Back at her desk, Gwyneth had barely settled in when Hans came looking for her.

"Ma'am, Mr. Everhart is waiting in the lounge," he murmured, voice so low it was

almost a whisper.

Curious coworkers pricked up their ears, but Hans was too discreet. Gwyneth

stood and followed him out.

Inside the lounge, Hawthorne sat fidgeting with an unlit cigarette, his usual

As soon

her into his arms.

you hurt? Did anyone threaten

fired off questions so quickly

heard about the accident.

you,

could

hadn't, what were you planning to do?

you. Did anything

smiled reassuringly. "Do I look like something happened to me?

was just messing around. He had me drive the car to the

cab and

"He just left?" Hawthorne's

It

simple. Word was, the guy

young kid with a

for damages, and

What was he

come to the office, you either come with

you," he

words, her own driving days were

not like

reluctance and reached out, his sternness softened by a

of affection.

sweetheart. Sports cars aren't meant for girls,

just

to argue. After all, she was a

was there

car, I'll get you something electric,

miles an hour."

already picture it: a cartoonish

some ridiculous antenna on