They might be richer than she could comprehend, but at the end of the day … they were people. In an awkward situation.
And maybe she could help. Which was why she was here. "He's not backing down, kiddo. Your father is a stubborn man."
"And a control freak," added Margo. "Which means you're likely trouncing all over his schedule. Get your shoes on. Did you remember to pack your cell phone charger?"
Chelsea resisted snickering. When she was Waverley's age, she was thrilled to get a travel version of Connect Four. But the child got her shoes on, and in moments, they were loaded back into the sterile black SUV. Chelsea opted to sit in the front with the driver, leaving the back to Aiden and his child.
A full hour passed, during which she disobeyed Aiden's direct orders not to work and checked emails, messaged her family, and otherwise fiddled around with things on her phone. Her best friend Kimmie was among those who messaged her. So did you chicken out, or are you in the car with Tony Stark right now?
Chelsea snorted a half giggle, then got paranoid about Aiden seeing the message. A glance to the back seat showed both father and daughter plugged into chargers and engrossed in their own phones. Way to bond, she thought.
To Kimmie, she answered, Yeah, I'm in the car now, but I can verify that the only power suits Aiden owns are not operated by battery nor can they change him into a super hero. I checked.
Kimmie's answer beeped into her phone seconds later. So … is he being a dicknugget, or is he being charming?
Twisting her lips into a grimace, she snuck another peek behind her before responding. Neither. He's being my boss, and this is a job, and that's all there is to it. He's been nothing but polite. I'm being well compensated for this; I get to go see the Grand Canyon for free. Nothing more, nothing less.
Ha! Kimmy responded. Are you kissing his ass because he's reading over your shoulder or what?
The sound of Aiden's seatbelt unclicking was followed by Aiden leaning forward in the seat to peer over her shoulder. "Why do you keep peeking back here with that guilty look on your face? Are you working or something?"
She stuffed her phone into her purse and glared at him. "You make me sound like a workaholic."
He smiled in a slow way that had her toes curling in her sensible flats. "You're the one that wore a power suit on vacation, Chels."
"I am still technically working," she reminded him.
His chuckle floated forward as he relaxed back into his seat and refastened his seatbelt.
…
Aiden
Aiden snapped awake only to realize he shouldn't move. His daughter's small head leaned on his shoulder. She smelled, unexpectedly, like some odd combination of crayons and little girl sweetness … Then again, perhaps that was what a daughter smelled like. It wasn't like he had any room for comparison.
What had she been like as a baby? How old was she when she learned to walk? What was her first word?
Had she ever wondered about him?
As he scrubbed a hand across his face, it occurred to him that he didn't know what woke him up. He could see the back of Chelsea's head well enough to tell that she'd also dozed off, leaning against the glass of the passenger side window. The driver, though …
Where was the driver? And why were they parked? Fears of kidnappings and ransoms danced in his paranoid head like unwelcome sugarplums.
The sun still beamed down from outside, so he carefully moved Waverley until she rested against the seat so he could look around and figure out what was going on.
The view outside his window wasn't the city at all. Heavy flowerpots hung from streetlamps, and green grass stretched out in front of what looked to be a town hall. A hand-painted sign on the lawn proclaimed they were throwing their 75th Annual County Strawberry Festival in the depot village, whatever that meant. On the other side of the road, he could see a gas station next to what looked like a diner right off a movie set.
"Where are we?" Chelsea asked, twisting around to face him from the front seat. Apparently, while he'd been considering the view and wondering the same thing, she'd awakened with the same confusion.
"I don't know," Aiden answered honestly, but then he spotted his driver coming out of the gas station. He weaved a bit, looking not well whatsoever, yet he made his way back to the car. "You okay, Jimmy?" he asked the driver once he'd taken his seat behind the wheel.
"No, actually," Jimmy admitted. He met Aiden's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Migraine."
The one-word explanation caused ice to skitter over Aiden's skin. His pulse thumped in his ears, and he could feel his hands beginning to shake, so he fisted them in his lap. Jimmy's eyes looked a little puffy and bloodshot, meaning the man was telling the truth, but that left them stranded.