Aiden was definitely overthinking things.
After parking the car, Jackson strolled back toward the main house. On the way, he plucked a stalk of wild grass, stuck it between his teeth, and hummed a tune, with Wendy lagging behind.
“What do you think would’ve happened if the boss saw that just now?” Wendy asked.
Jackson shot Aiden a look. “He’d probably kill me.”
“Then why—”
“But I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t dare. I’ve been loyal to Miss from the start. I was helping her build her empire back when he was probably wrapped up with some random woman.”
“You’re nuts,” Wendy muttered. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”
Aiden slapped a hand over Jackson’s mouth, not even noticing the wild grass stabbing straight into Jackson’s throat.
Jackson yanked his hand away, pulled out the now blood-stained grass, and started coughing like crazy.
“You—”
“Aiden, are you trying to kill me?!”
—
“All done?”
Patricia heard footsteps in the living room. Mr. Padilla came out of his study, spotting her purse tossed on the sofa and Patricia herself standing nearby, pouring water.
“You’re drinking warm water? Is your period coming?” he asked.
“Almost,” Patricia replied softly.
Mr. Padilla noticed her mood and frowned a little. “You look upset. Did things not go well?”
“Not really.” She finished half her glass, set it down, and slipped her arms around his waist, pressing herself close for comfort.
The moment she leaned against him, Mr. Padilla’s heart softened. He scooped her up, settled onto the sofa, and pulled her onto his lap.
“What’s up? Talk to me,” he coaxed.
Patricia buried her face in his neck, her voice muffled. “I don’t want to talk.”
Mr. Padilla chuckled quietly. “So you really are upset.”
“When Sara’s in a bad mood, she goes shopping. What about you, Pattie? What do you like to do when you’re down?”

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