<b>Chapter </b><b>121 </b>


    As soon <b>as </b><b>I </b>got to the hotel’s temporary office, my phone buzzed.


    I was in the middle of <b>a </b>conversation, <b>so </b><b>I </b>didn’t check it right away. By the time I finished, over ten minutes had passed.


    I picked up my phone and <b>saw </b>a message from Nathan. He sounded a bit jealous, asking: [When did you and Mr. Hob get so close?]


    I froze for a second. ‘Nathan’s tone <b>is </b>really weird,‘ I thought to myself. ‘Why does it sound like Nathan and I are the couple here, and Jared’s the lover?‘


    As a married woman, <b>I </b>had to stick to my principles<b>. </b>I couldn’t let Nathan get the wrong impression, like there was always <b>a </b>chance something could happen between <b>us</b>.


    So, I replied: [Thanks for your concern, Mr. Hallman. Our rtionship is neither good nor <b>bad </b><b>at </b>the moment.]


    Nathan replied almost instantly: [I thought you were mad at me and didn’t want to talk <i>to </i>me.]


    I wasn’t really trying to ignore him; I just didn’t want to leave any evidence for Jared to blow things out of proportion.


    “Is this the secret monologue of every cheater? Afraid of getting caught, but unable to resist the temptation?‘ I couldn’t help


    but think.


    I replied, [It’s just a normal chat. I’m not upset.]


    Nathan didn’t message me again after that. Maybe he was busy, or maybe I was a bit too distant, and he took the hint.


    At noon, Owen showed up. As Tracy’s cousin, he seemed pretty interested in me.


    His squinty eyes kept ncing over me, sizing me up at least a dozen times. Finally, he grinned and asked, “Mrs. Hob, are you free for lunch? I know a ce with some really good grilled fish. Want to try it together?”


    I nodded. “Sure, I love fish.”


    Owen instantly decided I was the type who didn’t have much of a guard up. He immediately called to book a private room.


    Of course, I kept my guard up around Owen. Even though I was nning to divorce Jared, I couldn’t let him get any dirt on me; instead, I needed <i>to </i>collect evidence against him.


    I reached into my bag and felt the voice recorder. Thank goodness I had it with me.


    Owen offered to give me a ride, but I turned him down. I drove myself and brought along a couple of hotel managers.


    I wasn’t sure if Owen was in cahoots with Tracy. When we got to the underground parking lot, I thought I saw a familiar sedan. It was Jared’s. Not far away was Tracy’s low–key but luxurious red Porsche,


    I pretended not to notice either car, chatting with the hotel managers about the renovations as we walked into the elevator.


    Owen pressed the elevator button, his squinty eyes kept sneaking peeks at me to see how I’d react. When he saw I lookedpletely unfazed, he let out a silent sigh of relief.


    When we got to the first–floor lobby, I was still expecting Jared and Tracy to be eating in a private room.


    But to my surprise, the two of them were sitting openly by the window, sipping red wine, eating grilled fish<b>, </b>and chatting away. Jared <b>was </b>wearing a <b>ck </b>shirt today, which made his skin look even more noble and refined.


    T


    <b>Owen </b>looked like he’dpleted his mission. <b>He </b>shot <b>a </b><b>nce </b>over at the window <b>seat </b>and <b>said </b><b>in </b><b>a </b>deliberately casual <b>tone</b><b>, </b><b>“</b>Oh wow, <b>Tracy </b>and Mr. Hob are <b>here</b>, too. What are the odds, right?<b>” </b>


    I just gave them a brief, indifferent look and said calmly, “Owen, let’s not bother them. Let’s <b>go </b><b>upstairs </b>and talk about work.”


    Owen <b>was </b>still hoping I’d go <b>over </b>and make a scene<b>, </b>but I just turned and headed upstairs,pletely unfazed.


    He hurried after me<b>, </b>calling out, “Mrs. Hob, aren’t you going to say hi to your husband?”


    “He’s not dead, so why bother?<b>” </b><b>I </b>shot back, already pushing open the door to the private room he’d reserved.


    Owen looked utterly lost<b>, </b>while the managers trailing behind me wore knowing smirks<b>, </b>clearly <b>ready </b>to watch the drama unfold..


    I sat down, and someone quickly made me <b>a </b>cup of coffee.


    I thanked them politely, then pulled out my phone to go over the <btest </b>material lists and price sheets<b>, </b>not even bothering to think about catching anyone in the act<b>. </b>


    Maybe what Tracy really wanted was for me to <b>see </b>just how lovey–dovey she and Jared could be, not necessarily to make me throw a fit.