The Girlboss Begs For Remarriage

Janet was speechless and turned to check the time. “Well, since you’re here, Mr. Lawrence, I think it’s alright for me to leave. I still have something to attend to.” Frank nodded but soon stopped her as he remembered something else. “Hold on, Ms. Zimmer.‘ “Yes?” Frank took out the box of ointment. “If you can make time, I’d like you to deliver this.”

“Deliver? Where to?” Janet asked as she took the box. “I’ll do it first thing tomorrow morning.” “Lane Manor,” Frank replied. “It’s an ointment to remove scars–it’s for Helen’s face.” “Why won’t you deliver it yourself?” Janet asked, looking at him hesitantly.

Helen was his ex–wife, so would it not be more appropriate if he did it?

Frank scratched his head. “Things are hostile between me and the Lanes, and Helen’s mother thinks that I’m incompetent. But I was thinking they would believe you if you were the one who brought it to her.” “I see,” Janet said in realization. “So I don’t have to tell them that it’s yours?” Frank nodded. “Just tell them it’s made in Flora Hall.” “Alright,” Janet nodded, thinking to herself right then that the Lanes were so blind they could not even see how amazing Frank was.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Lawrence. I’ll deliver it tomorrow morning,” she assured Frank.

“Thank you,” Frank told her.

“Mr. Lawrence, are you going to be busy tonight?” “No, why?” “I have something urgent at home,” Yara quickly said. “Would you mind staying with Ms. Turnbull for the night?” Frank glanced hesitantly at Vicky, who

Vicky was mostly fine,

turning down as time passed, and Frank soon

shrugging off her blanket and scratching

clearly groggy from sleep, and she headed straight to the washroom before Frank could ask how she

sat on the toilet even before she closed the door, leaving Frank feeling

toilet paper…” Silence was her answer, and after a while, Vicky called out again, impatient this time, “Yara? Where are you?” Frank picked up a roll of toilet paper