“We’re here,” Anita informed Anna as soon as they stepped off the bus. Charles’ firm stood tall and magnificent.
“Let’s go in.”
They both walked inside, but were immediately stopped by the receptionist.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked, her eyes scanning their clothes.
“My husband,” Anita replied.
“Your husband?” the receptionist repeated. “Who?”
“Charles,” she responded with a smile, trying to remain friendly.
“Oh. You’re Mr. Charles’ wife?” The receptionist’s demeanor instantly changed. She knew better than to offend her.
“Ye...” Before she could finish her statement, she was cut off.
“Whose wife?” Margaret’s voice rang out, filled with anger. Her eyes burned with hate as they roamed over Anita’s body. She wasn’t impressed. She had imagined Charles’ wife would be someone ext
