My Boss My Secret Husband (Hazel and Logan) novel Chapter 8

Logan shook his head at my question. “No. I cannot disclose her name at this time.”

I pushed the thought from my head. There are a million actresses in the world. The odds of it being Natalie were nearly impossible.

I didn’t know the full story of what happened in that studio and Logan didn’t seem to want to discuss it, but I did want to try and help. I thought for a moment before I spoke.

“Sir, I also know an actress. From what I know about her, I’m not sure the date I planned for you tonight would work. Maybe a more lavish first date would be appropriate for her? Something to spoil or pamper her after a long day on set. They also seem to enjoy being given gifts.” I smiled at him.

Logan frowned at me. I tensed. Oh, I’ve spoken out of line.

I looked down, waiting for him to eliminate me from the running as his assistant just like he had done to Elena when she crossed a boundary.

But Logan just sighed. “You’re right. I was only thinking of the kind of date I would prefer, not what she might enjoy. Perhaps I should have a more formal date with her.”

I realized I had been holding my breath, and I released it with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you, Hazel,” Logan smiled at me.

When I returned home later that evening, I stood at the front door, rummaging through my purse for my keys. Just as I found them and pulled them out, the door cracked open, startling me.

My parents peered out at me. “Hazel,” my dad said.

“Father,” I said, confused.

There was a moment of silence. I stared at them as they nervously glanced at me, then over their shoulders, then at each other, then back at me.

“Inside voice, dear,” mom spoke to me like I was a five-year-old.

“Dad, please,” I pleaded with him, tears beginning to form in the corner of my eyes. “Please, I can’t bear to see the two of them together like this.”

Dad’s face softened, but before he could speak mom cut him off. “Then go up to your room. No one is forcing you to stay here,” she said, still looking in her compact mirror.

“Kitten,” dad said, using a nickname I hadn’t heard since I was young. They were both treating me like I was just a bratty little kid. “There’s nothing we can do. They’re adults, they can do what they want.”

“But this is your house,” I said meekly.

“Oh, grow up,” mom snapped, giving me her full attention now. “Look at you, standing there sniveling. Do you think Natalie would act this way if she were in your shoes? No man wants some whiny little brat for a fiancé. It’s no wonder he was seeing her behind your back. We said a long time ago that you practically pushed him into her arms.”