The Accidental Heart
If a rogue photographer caught the billionaire CEO's new wife stumbling out of a lower-tier Manhattan dive bar alone, completely intoxicated, the media fallout would be catastrophic.
The board of directors would question the legitimacy of the marriage, and the pristine front they had constructed would collapse.
There were eyes watching them everywhere, anytime.
"I will be there in fifteen minutes," Vivian stated flatly, slamming her laptop shut.
When the sleek, black corporate sedan pulled up to the curb of the neon-soaked street, Vivian stepped out into the humid night air, looking like an absolute alien in her sharp charcoal suit.
She pushed open the heavy wooden door of The Rusty Anchor,