Boss, Your Ex-Wife is Unreachable Now! novel Chapter 41

Beasley turned, his eyes dark as midnight, fixing York with a piercing stare.

York paused mid-step, clearly still waiting, almost pleading, for an answer.

Beasley frowned. "Why do you want to know all this?"

"Just curious," York replied, flashing a mischievous grin.

"I don't know much about her, actually. You'll have to stay curious," Beasley said, his tone as cold as his expression.

York shook his head in mock disbelief. "You expect me to believe you don't even know what she does for a living? Unless she's been playing the happy housewife all this time and never worked a day outside."

But would Beasley really let her lounge around at home without a care in the world, playing the pampered wife?

Not a chance.

York didn't buy it for a second. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that Beasley was hiding something.

They'd known each other since they were kids—old friends who could read each other's minds half the time.

Beasley knew York could be infuriatingly stubborn. If he wanted to get to the bottom of something, he'd dig and dig until he found the truth—unless he lost interest first.

Better to just tell him what he wanted, Beasley figured, than let York snoop around and risk someone finding out about the divorce.

So he relented. "All I know is she writes novels. What she writes, where she publishes—no idea, and I don't care to find out." He barely managed to keep the irritation out of his voice, punctuating his words with a look that said, "Clear enough for you?"

"Crystal," York replied, grinning broadly. Satisfied, he finally dropped the matter, giving Beasley a wave. "Alright, I'll be off then. Call me if you need anything."

York's new car was parked on the other side of the street. He turned and headed back to fetch it.

As soon as he slid into the driver's seat and buckled up, he glanced up—just in time to see Willow stepping out of a fancy restaurant across the street, moving at an unhurried pace.

She was alone.

York narrowed his eyes. Had she really spent two hours in that high-end place just to soak up the atmosphere for inspiration?

Settled in the backseat of the taxi, Willow checked her phone, keeping a close eye on a particular account.

Before long, the account posted a new set of photos on Twitter—just like always, a neat grid of food shots and moody restaurant ambience. The owner never appeared in any of the photos, but Willow had already seen his face.

She smiled, the corners of her lips curving upward.

With this, she'd have a solid answer and a clear lead for Editorial and Ablitt before heading back to headquarters. Today's trip had been worth every penny.

Relief washed over her—she didn't even spare a thought for the unpleasant encounter she'd had earlier in the restaurant. Those two men were already erased from her mind.

Half an hour later, the taxi pulled up in front of a five-star hotel.

Willow stepped out without hesitation and walked straight inside.

York, who'd been tailing the taxi at a safe distance, watched her in disbelief, his eyes going wide.