Easy, mate

Blaine stared at the woman. Was she really asking about his daughter now? 

“Did you have a doctor check her out?” Ariel asked. 

Blaine glanced at Sullivan beside them, but the man was quiet, his gaze averted. Blaine knew it was his guilt keeping his mouth shut.

He frowned now, turning his eyes back to Ariel. 

She probably did not know what her husband did, and Sullivan was trying to play dead so he did not attract attention to himself or stir any suspicions.

His frown deepened as he stared at the couple’s body language, the chasm that seemed to separate them.

Or did she know after all? 

Could that be the reason for their imminent divorce?

“She is fine.” He finally responded, as they stopped in front of one of the trucks, and a manager rushed towards them with helmets. 

Blaine smiled sadly. 

Ophelia had not asked about their daughter’s welfare even once. The child’s own mother. 

She had not asked how the child was doing or even the details of the accident.

“Are you OK?” He heard Sullivan asking Ariel and turned to see her nodding. 

As Blaine watched them, he remembered it had not been very long since she got out of the hospital after being unconscious for days. 

She really must like money to resume work so early.

But could someone be such a good pretender? 

He had not seen even a hint of this side of her in those three days at that castle. 

That Ariel did not strike him as a money-hungry gold-digger. She had really just been excited about working a job she loved. 

And that was how they came up with these final designs almost two years ago now.

All three of them finally got in the truck, and, of course, Sullivan made it a point to sit between both of them. 

None of them said a word as they rode down the tarmac in the open truck, to the assembling warehouse.

The place was noisy as the occasional sound of beating, torching and something heavy dropping echoed in the air.

Blaine got out of the truck and held his hand out. He had not done this on purpose, because even now, his mind was distracted. 

It was just a habit to be a courteous gentleman. So he was almost startled to feel the soft feminine hand in his.

He turned to see Sullivan’s reaction to this, because as much as he still believed he owed the thieving bastard several good beatings, he did not want them fighting in front of their employees.

But Sullivan seemed to be momentarily distracted and talking to a director who had come out of the building to them. 

Blaine turned back to Ariel as he helped her down, and they locked eyes briefly. 

But as soon as her feet were on the floor, she pulled her hand out of his with a frown.

He said nothing, as the director finally finished with Sullivan and hurried around to bow to him. 

Blaine returned his bow, as Sullivan joined them.

“Have you met my wife?” He said a little too loudly with a wide smile and put his hand around Ariel’s shoulder possessively.

The director went red, and bowed even more deeply this time, “Yes.”

“Of course he has met her. She seems to be the only chairperson that takes working seriously,” Blaine said, and Ariel turned to give him a dirty look.

Sullivan tsked, shaking his head in pretend sadness, 

“That’s terrible of you and me. But it seems only one of us could afford to get away with such an attitude to work in the end. I mean, one person is chairman, the other isn’t.”

Blaine bristled. 

Not because the man’s word cut, he and Sullivan had been playing these word games since they were young and came with their fathers on bring-your child-to-work days, but because he could not let out a biting remark like he usually would have because of the director present.

“Easy mate.” Sullivan chuckled, brushing non-existent lint from Blaine’s suit. “People around here still call you chairman, so I guess it does not matter.”

Blaine stared at him, mentally struggling with the image of making the man eat dirt. 

But he was not a boy anymore. And he would not let Sullivan continue to tempt him.

“Can you show us around?” He heard Ariel say, and turned to see her smiling tightly at the director. 

Sometime later, inside the building, when the black cover was pulled back, he heard her inhale. 

He glanced at her and then back to the cars, his mind traveling down memory lane, to the same day, the exact moment this design was perfected beside her, and it seemed like they were alone in the room again.

He watched her slowly walk forward, till her fingers were caressing the hood of the car. 

“It’s beautiful.” The words left her lips as if she was in a trance, and he frowned as he watched her.

It was almost like he was watching the old Ariel. The one who appreciated little things and did not care about money.

“Yes. But time to see whether it works,” Sullivan said bitingly.

“Of course it works.” Blaine found himself shooting back. And all three turned to look at themselves.

Ariel stepped back, her fierce, indifferent mask back on. 

“Turn it on and open it,” she said, holding her purse with both hands in front of herself. The engineer opened the engine as another turned the car on from inside. 

She moved closer again to stare at it, and he could see her eyes scanning it. 

As the man narrated in detail the mechanics of the car and what improvement this design had enabled them to make from the last model, Blaine observed Sullivan who was nodding enthusiastically and almost laughed.

A thief will always be a thief. 

Although he hated to admit it, Sullivan was an excellent businessman and had a good eye for business opportunities. Marrying Ariel was the biggest proof of that.

But it was such a shame that three generations later the Sullivans still did not have a talent for cars. He doubted they even understood how to fix one, talk more about making it.

He stepped forward and began to ask the engineer all the important questions, and it gave him a childlike joy to see how quiet Sullivan went. 

This was clearly above his pay grade.