Chapter 72_ Squabble

“I was saving this for a special occasion. What do you think?” Arya asked Kane, who sat on the bed raking his eyes over her outfit. Arya was wearing a sleeveless white top and a houndstooth-patterned blazer. The blazer was cinched at the waist with a black belt featuring a prominent gold buckle. She paired it with a red leather skirt, adding a pop of color to her ensemble. She had nude pumps on and carried a white tote handbag as she turned around for Kane to take a good look at her.

“You are perfect, baby. But if you were waiting for a special occasion, I might have one. Do you think you can make it out of the office earlier?” he said, and Arya raised her brows at him.

"I don't know, why?" she asked curiously.

"I have some special plans," Kane said with a grin as he took two tickets from the inner pockets of his jacket. “What do you say about watching a movie together?"

"Really? Great! I’ll be there.” Arya squeaked and jumped at him, peppering kisses all over his face.

Kane chuckled and slapped her ass before setting her down on her feet. "Get out of this outfit and let's hit the sheets. I want you to be well-rested for tomorrow."

Arya nodded and swiftly changed into her nightgown before climbing onto the bed and snuggling into Kane’s arms as they breathed in each other's scent and drifted off to slumber.

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The next morning, when Arya arrived at the office, she was greeted by the usual quarrelsome buzz, which seemed to be the endless soundtrack of Maranello Auto in Italy.

“For the last time, Lewis, I don't know where you put those documents. It's your desk, not mine,” Victoria said, and Lewis frowned at her.

"They were right here! So unless those papers grew legs, someone took them,” Lewis said, but a smile tugged at his lips when he saw Arya coming in, making Victoria glance in her direction as well. "So, it's true that the dawn follows the darkest hour. Signorina Arya, finally a joy on this godforsaken day.”

"Buongiorno, Lewis. How are you doing?"

"I’m doing fine. Just straightening up a few dead ends,” Lewis said as he looked at Victoria and shook his head.

“I don't see any dead ends, so why don't we all get to work instead of solving imaginary problems?” Arya said, and Lewis nodded at her.

“Of course."

"Ciao, Arya. Are you straightening up our cranky boy here?” Martina said as she joined the group and welcomed Arya with a warm smile.

“Hi, Martina. I was just saying hello.” Arya replied.

"Well, with that outfit, saying ‘hello’ is more than enough to cut the tail of any bearded little bully,” Martina said, and Lewis turned to her with a frown.

"Hey.”

"Don't 'hey' me, Lewis. I'm just stating facts here,” Martina said.

"And speaking of facts, is the concept car ready for the presentation?” Arya asked, chiming in.

"Of course not. Do you know how much time it takes?" Lewis said.

"But we don't have time. All we have are deadlines, and they are all coming at us like a marauding army because the three of you quarrel all the time,” Arya said, and Lewis shook his head with a smile at her words.

"Quarrel? This isn't a quarrel. This is just a discussion between colleagues,” he said.

“Well, it was kind of a quarrel,” Victoria chimed in, and Lewis turned to glare at her.

“No one asked for your opinion, dead-brain donkey. I —”

“Enough!” Arya's voice boomed in the office as she slammed her fists on Lewis's desk and looked at them with flaming eyes. “I don't care what you call this pathetic spat of yours, but I have had enough of it. I heard that you were supposed to be good at your jobs, but if you keep behaving like this, I can hire a bunch of six-year-olds and get the same results. So cut the crap and, please, go prepare that fucking car.”

Lewis was stunned by the authority laced in her voice and quivered slightly. “Ye-Yes, Arya. I-I’m sorry,” he said, and walked away while Victoria and Martina nodded their heads vigorously and went to their desks in silence.

‘Okay, let's get some damn results around here,’ Arya mused silently and walked away, preparing to do most of the work by herself. It seemed the only way to get anything done, as she thought, ‘You want to get something done? Do it yourself, right?’

She went to her desk, putting down the numbers for the deal that would follow the sale of the car. Lunch went by without Arya even noticing it. Hour after hour, it was clear that she wouldn't make it to the movie date with Kane. She was too focused to think about that, and her phone was not disturbed, buried deep inside her handbag.

Hours later, ‘Sweet baby Jesus….I’m fried,’ Arya mused as she closed the laptop when all the numbers added up, but the sun was long gone, and the office was quiet with no one around.

Looking around the office, she sighed with a thought, ‘My part is done. But I’ve been so absorbed in my work that I don't even know if we have an actual car to show. That doesn't sound very managerial.’

She got to her feet and walked straight to Marco's office, and as she arrived, the door was half-open, so she didn't need to knock. He was on the phone, pacing back and forth in front of his desk and barking orders.

“This is ridiculous! We build cars for God's sake. Well, I don't care how! Just do it, or you can get back to selling ice cream.” He barked into the phone, slamming it down, and then he collapsed in a chair.

“Hey, Arya.” Marco greeted, looking into the void with dead eyes, barely acknowledging Arya's presence.

“What’s going on?” Arya asked.

“Nothing good. Sit down, Arya. They just called me from the garage. They can't fit the engine in.” he said.

"What?” Arya exclaimed.

"I don't even know how it's possible that car engineers design the body of the car without thinking about the engine. But here we are,” Marco said exasperatedly.

"So we don't have a car?"

“We have four wheels without an engine and an engine without wheels. That's what we have,” Marco said, and Arya nodded thoughtfully.

"I'm sure we will be able to figure out a solution,” Arya said, as she recalled Kane being a master at fitting engines.

“I hope so. But frankly, I’m starting to lose hope,” Marco replied.

“Well… I’d start staying away from scotch and getting a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, we will figure out what to do,” Arya said, looking down at the liquor on Marco’s table.

"Maybe you are right,” Marco answered, closed the bottle, and stood up as they both left the office, with Arya heading to the hotel.