My ex-husband's nightmare - Chapter 90: Chapter 90

Lydia
I leaned down to look at the drawing Liam was pointing at.
“I painted this mom.” He tapped on the paper eagerly. “This is you, this is Melanie.” We were in their study area. There was a table in the middle of the room, and both were seated at each end, each busy with a book and pen.
Before Liam could continue, Melanie was at our side, “What about me? I wanna see too.” She said excitedly.
I looked at the painting, a small smile crawling on my lips, as Liam pointed to the picture, repeating what he just said to Melanie.
Melanie frowned, “That's not me. I don't look that ugly.” She furrowed her brows, and all trace of her previous playfulness had disappeared.
“That's you, this is your hair and your nose, your eye, your ear,” he kept pointing at the drawing and then at Melanie's face.
“No, stop, you painted me bad. You are a bad artist.” Melanie declared and looked over to me for support.
“Mom, you always say I'm the best. Repeat it to Melanie; she seems to misunderstand me.” Liam puffed out his chest and snorted.
Now I was caught in the middle of their banter like always.
“What do you think about the drawing?” Liam questioned. I pressed my lips together, pretending to take a longer look at the painting.
“Come on, Mom, say something.” I twisted my lips to the side.
“This is…” my word trailed, and I looked down at the two eager eyes anticipating a reply.
If I say the painting isn't nice, I'll hurt Liam's feelings, I'll hurt Melanie’s feelings.
So I decided to play safe.
“I think I am so blessed.” I said, “You both look amazing, and what's a painting to decide that?” Before they could argue, I continued, “Do you want to see what Uncle Marcus bought for you?” I questioned placing the painting on the table and moving out of the study room.
That did the trick as their attention was immediately shifted towards the gift Marcus sent.
They trailed behind me and soon held on to both hands, “what did he buy?”
“I'll show it to you,” I said.
Marcus had not gone to meet his parents as he had planned. His mother, who was sick, got better.
His father had called him before he got on his flight and asked that he take care of the business he was on before returning, since his mother was out of danger, so he would have an excuse to return early.
I was surprised to see him at my office earlier today, and when he asked if we could go shopping, I didn't refuse. I needed the break he brought.
I showed the gifts to them, and soon, they began playing in their room. When it was time to sleep, I read them bedtime stories. The low hum of their breath was like music to my ear, and I didn't want to imagine a day when I didn't hear it.
I tucked them in and left for my room. It has been a long day, and I needed any rest I could get.
This was the third meeting in two hours. My eyes scanned the document in front of me. “We were told the distribution would start in a month.” A voice by my side said, I paused and slowly lifted my eyes, “a month”? I questioned.
He gave a slight nod, “We tried to make it closer, but they said that's the fastest they could go.” The man in front of me kept placing one hand over the other as he spoke, refusing to meet my eyes.
“The buzz would have died down at that time. If the distribution begins in a month, then we'd be spending extra campaigning and advertising for the product again.” I paused, massaging the corner of my head.
We were launching a new product. “The campaign manager said that it would be-” I raised one hand, cutting him short.
“No, that won't do. I don't care how this is done, ensure the distribution begins in a week. If the distribution manager knows he is incompetent, he should save me the stress of firing him myself and resign.” I do not pay him to sit in his office all day.
By the time it was noon, I had concluded six meetings and had a pile of files and emails to go through. The workload never seems to reduce.
“Ma'am, have some coffee.” I didn't know when Mia entered the office, but she placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of me. “Thanks,” I muttered.
“Are you eating out or should I order?” I looked to the side where a digital clock was placed; it was already 12:30. Eating out won't work. “In,” I said, and she nodded before whistling under her breath. She was about to sit when I said,
“Don't you have work to do?’ her butt hung in the air at my voice.
She settled on the couch and crossed one leg over the other, ” It's lunch break,” She said.
She fetched her phone and started scrolling through, no doubt trying to order some food.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Fries and-’
“At this rate, junk food will grow in your stomach.” She teased, “I'm ordering us something edible.” She adjusted on the couch, “What three-course meals are available for lunch?” She said to herself in a singsong manner.
“There's no time for a three-course meal,” I argued.
She ordered the three-course meal and made me eat with her. After eating, I returned to my work. Over an hour was wasted on eating.
I pushed my hair out of my vision and tied my hair into a messy ponytail with my hand. Later that day, Mia came back to my office.
“Mr. Redmond has requested that you go through this.” She handed me her iPad, “he just sent the email.” She said and went on to brief me on the content as I read.
If she was going to brief me why did she give me the iPad?
“He wants a collaboration with another company.” I handed the ipad back to her and she nodded.
“Yes, he is also allowing us to pick any company of our choice.” She added.
“This is something our company will be able to handle alone,” I said. She shrugged her shoulders.
I couldn't understand why he wanted this to be a collaboration. “I'll try speaking with him,” I said dismissively.
“What?” I raised my eyes and asked when Mia was still standing in front of me, proof that she had more she wanted to say.
“Go on.” I urged.
She swallowed, “I didn't know if I should tell you this but…” she paused and then sighed.
Once again, she passed the iPad to me, “Someone has been tailing us for a while. I did some digging and found out that a private investigator is trying to get info on your past.” I raised a brow.
There were pictures of a red car following me at all times, and at the same time, there was a man in a black suit and big shades. He had a camera.
If he was trying not to stand out, he needed a better tutor on that.
“I didn't think much about it at first, but after discovering the person behind them, I knew it was time to tell you.” She said
She gave me the name of the private investor, Mr. Johnson. His name sounded familiar, but I couldn't exactly point out where I had heard it before.
But it all made sense when Mia said Mason was the one trying to uncover my past.
Mr. Johnson can be said to be the family's go-to investigator.
“What should I do about this?” Mia asked.
“Clear my schedule for the evening, let's go pay Mr. Johnson a surprise visit.”
We got to his office in an hour.
I didn't miss the surprise on his face when he saw me. It was as though he was seeing a ghost.
I am quite sure he must have investigated my death and was sure I had died in the fire five years ago, but here I was, standing in front of him.
“You look like you've seen a ghost,” I said as I took a seat, leaving him standing and looking baffled.
He shook out of his trance. “Of course not, welcome Miss Lyd-”
“Alissa.” I corrected before the mistake was made, “I'm quite sure you must have seen the news,” I said, and he nodded.
“Yes. Miss Alissa.” He took a seat opposite me. “What do I owe this pleasure?” He asked.
One side of my lips pulled to the side, I stretched my hand to the side, and Mia placed the pictures in them, “A rat has been snooping around me.” I did and slammed the pictures on the table.
He picked them, his hand shaky as he gathered them, “Well… I… you see.”
“You don't have to be nervous.” I said in a stern voice, “I won't tell you to stop. I'm here to give you some information you may have missed, something I'm sure Mr. Woods would enjoy hearing.”