"Oh no!" He flinched when his eyes landed on a familiar figure stepping out of the elevator.
Without a second thought, he spun around, ready to run for his life.
But it was too late.
"Jarvis… Is that you?"
She had seen him.
"Jarvis…" A crisp, imperious voice called again.
This time, his body froze, unable to move, even an inch.
It was not fear.
No!
In truth, he was terrified, especially when she used that distinct tone. It was as if she was ready to swallow him whole if he so much as uttered a wrong word.
Finally, he took a sharp breath and glanced at the person standing behind him.
"Oh, Mrs. Hawthorn. I didn't see you there." Jarvis greeted her with a brilliant smile. "What can I do for you?" He kept his tone steady and his eyes sharp for trouble.
As it happened, he didn't need to ask why the matriarch of the Hawthorn family was on the Chief Executive floor of the Hawthorn Main Headquarters Building. He could already guess.
"Where is he?" Adeline Hawthorn glared at him with a clear warning. She was not here to hear some bullshit excuse. "Elly said that he hadn't been in the office since this morning."
Damn, Julian!
His friend had just put him in another awkward situation.
As a lawyer, he had learned to wear his poker face like a second skin.
But in front of Mrs. Hawthorn, he knew he could barely hide anything. And usually, lying to her only ended in disaster.
"Mrs. Hawthorn… Yeah, Julian is currently out." He stumbled over his words, waving his hand to show his friend wasn't in his office. But from the way her eyes narrowed, he could tell she was getting suspicious.
Adeline Hawthorn was a famous artist and expert curator with an eye for detail. She could spot a fake painting or a cheap replica effortlessly, even with her eyes closed.
"He had to fly out of the country for an emergency negotiation with our European counterpart." Jarvis concocted an outrageous lie. But beads of sweat had already broken out of his skin.
Although he never liked deceiving Julian's mother, he had no other option.
Fighting the urge to wipe his forehead, he stood his ground.
His friend had asked him to keep his marriage status under wraps, at least until he settled his divorce. So, that was what he had to do.
No matter how long it took, he needed to keep up the act.
"Are you sure you're not just covering for him?" The older woman studied him as if she were dissecting him under a microscope.
"Since the engagement, he has ditched his dates with Tanya. You wouldn't know anything about that." Her eyes were accusatory, as if she could tell something was off.
Honestly, he could not blame Julian's mother for doubting him.
It suddenly reminded him of all those years he'd had to cover for Julian, from childhood until now, apparently.
There was the time his friend burned the treehouse and blamed the dog.
Then, the time Julian got completely drunk and ended up in the police station. He had to beg his father, a federal judge, to bail him out and expunge his record.
Six years ago, he had also covered for Julian when he joined the army without his parents' approval. That was a little tricky. But thankfully, he got away unscathed.
And so on. And so forth.
But in that moment, Julian's mother looked at him as if he was an accomplice to a crime.
"I'm sure it was just a coincidence. Julian only has a lot on his plate." He knew his alibi sounded lame, but he could not think of anything else to say.
Frankly, Mrs. Hawthorn was like a bloodhound. She seemed to smell bullshit a mile away.
At that moment, she was eyeing him as if he had "A LIAR" written all over his forehead. It was as if she could read him like an open book. He could never hide anything from her.
But so far, she hadn't called him out, which was more terrifying.
Instead, she turned around and strode to the elevator.
"Tell Julian to stop using the company as an excuse to dodge his responsibility." Mrs. Hawthorn said.
Calm. Too calm. For his peace of mind.
Then, before the sliding doors closed, she added. "And Jarvis…" Her voice was as cold as ice. "Stop tugging on your tie when you're lying. It gives you away."
***
"Really, Julian…" Jarvis stood outside the door of a four-story brick apartment, looking down at the cheap delivery clothes that Julian had specifically ordered him to wear for this task.
What the heck!
He was a well-respected lawyer, playing as a pizza delivery boy.
After spending hours working on Julian's paperwork and attending meetings, his friend still had the nerve to ask him to run errands.
"So, what is this all about?" He asked as soon as his friend answered the door, carrying a pizza box.
Tired. Annoyed. Frustrated.
"I thought you'd just ask for a divorce." But his mouth fell open when he looked up and saw his friend's appearance for the first time.
"Jeez! What are you wearing?" He fired again, eyes wide in amusement at the ridiculous pink apron his friend donned over his expensive clothes.
Suddenly, his faded, tacky uniform didn't feel bad anymore.
Slowly, he grabbed his phone. "Oh my… this is priceless." He quickly snapped a photo, knowing he might never get the chance again.
"Quit that out." Julian almost snatched the phone from his hand. Luckily, he was quick.
"But really, those yellow stars brought the sparkle in your eyes." He complimented, unable to keep his thoughts to himself.
"Shut up, Jarvis!" His friend grumbled.
Seemingly, his friend was running out of patience.
"Did you bring everything I asked?" His friend asked, staring daggers at him.
Immediately, he pocketed his phone, zipped his lips with his fingers, and handed over the documents.
"It's all there…" He pointed to the stack of papers. "All the papers you asked for." It was neatly arranged in a folder.
"Aren't you going to invite me inside and introduce me to your wife?" Curious, he glanced beyond his friend's shoulder into the apartment.
But before his friend could answer, he heard a commotion on the other side of the door.
"Mr. Julian, I'm hungry." A small, sweet, melodious voice spoke behind him.
Followed by a suspicious one. "Who's at the door?"
"Is that the pizza?" Finally, a young boy and a pretty girl appeared in his peripheral vision.
"Hey, what are those?" He asked, surprised, as if he had seen tiny aliens.
But before he could ask more, Julian grabbed the pizza. "Get out of here." He ordered and shut the door in his face.
"Yep, the pizza is here." He heard his friend's muffled voice behind the door.
"Pepperoni with plenty of cheese, just as you like." Again, Julian's unfamiliar tone drifted through the closed door as he was about to leave.
"Damn! Who is that guy?" He mumbled, both intrigued and amused. "And who are those kids?"
What did they do to his friend? Honestly, he barely recognized him.
Two Medals of Honor, a CEO seat at the country's most successful medical empire, yet his friend was playing housemaid and nanny to his secret wife and those kids.
A glorified errand boy.
***
Hey, why did those kids look like Julian?