Naya, recognizing her gaffe, held her tongue.
Mark’s car soon came to a halt right outside the café. Brian disembarked from his driver’s seat and strolled through the entrance, requesting, “Two of the café’s recommended desserts and two Americano.”
Two sets of food for Mark and Ellie.
Arianne cocked an eyebrow. “Gee, who knew he could be so damn miserly that he would buy two sets of stuff for three people, huh?” she jeered under her breath, not recognizing the creeping sulkiness in her tone.
Brian avoided her gaze with a silent and curt nod.
His reaction rubbed Arianne off the wrong way. Brian used to address her as “Madam” or even “Miss” before she was married, yet here he was, putting a wide berth between them. As though she was no one but a stranger.
Fine, perhaps it was technically correct for the Tremont retinues to treat her as a stranger now. But Arianne had not expected the bond they shared to be so… frail. If this was how Brian saw her, then she shuddered at the prospects of seeing Mary and Henry again. Would they also treat her differently?
Yes, Arianne conceded that she was always just an orphan who was adopted into the Tremont family, and leaving them was to sever all of her ties. If a new heiress presided over the family, it was reasonable to demand Arianne abdicate everything the title ever granted her.
Back then, she had tunnel-visioned into the goal of putting as much distance between her and Mark. Now, Arianne realized that giving him up was akin to giving away everything she ever owned in the past, including the people who had truly cared for her.
“I’m not taking orders today,” Arianne snapped coldly, her eyes zeroed in on the car outside the café.
Brian did not stay even a second longer. He quickly turned and marched back to the car, only breaking the news after driving over a few miles, “Um, Madam said no ordering today.”
Ellie turned to Mark. “I’ve asked around prior to this and saw that every order our company made — including yours, Mr. Tremont — had been accepted and prepared by Madam herself. Yet, curiously, she declined our order just now… Told ya’. Look at the time — it’s still a lot of time left before the shop’s closed. In other words, she specifically denied preparing desserts for the two of us.”
Mark nodded slightly. “So, when is it ok to visit her?”
Ellie shook her head promptly. “No, that won’t do! You must hang on and not give in. It would help if you only started on the next step after she began displaying a suitable reaction. Get a hold of yourself, Mr. Tremont!”
Mark sank into silence, utterly oblivious to Ellie’s lingering, all-too-enduring gaze on his face.
Then, out of nowhere, Ellie reached out to right his tie. “Say, Mr. Tremont, would you like to have dinner with me? The media’s been reporting your every movement quite religiously these days, so I bet we’re being tailed already. Methinks we should create news scandalous enough that your wife can’t escape from seeing it.”
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