Mr. President's Sub Wife
Willow stepped out of the house. She had ended up rescheduling her appointment with the editor until the next day, and now, here she was.
Willow stepped into the car, strapped the seat belt around her body, and leaned back against the seat. Alejandro had been out of the house all day, so it had been very peaceful.
"Melanie's coffee shop, please," she told the driver. Her phone began to ring, jolting her out of her reverie. She pulled out the phone from her bag, and her face drained of color the moment she saw the caller ID. Jasmine's name was boldly displayed on the screen. Willow gulped hard, swiped the call right, and placed the phone to her ear.
Jasmine went straight to the point, "Come to the house now, it's urgent." She ordered and cut the call. Willow took a deep breath, dropping the phone back into her bag. Her lips caught between her teeth worriedly, the nails of her fingers dug deep into her palm as she fretted.
