Truth be told, I've lost track of how long I've been here, listening to the company talks with the Department of Public Health and Human Resources. It's incredibly boring, listening to all of the lies they've been repeating since my father ran the company. Just as boring is the fact I can't drink right now, given that it would be "wildly improper and reflect poorly on all of us." I sigh and sit down. Soon, they're all trailing out of the board room to give DPHHS the chance to tour the company headquarters before they visit a refinery and a mine. I'm sure their investigation will be more thorough than this but I honestly could not be compelled to give a damn right now. Jacques and Rebecca will handle this like they always do, the company will get approval for the merger with minimal restrictions, and things will go back to the usual artifice and shoulder-rubbing. That's how it's been for years. I don't see any reason why things would change now, even a little. It's not as if things haven't worked out well for us — extremely well, even. Jacques has never worked a hard day in his life and his primary job is to move money around and shout at people for fucking up the company image. As for myself...well, I've never worked a day in my life. Even when I was younger that was more than true.

"Ah! There's the careless man's careful daughter!"

I look up, briefly startled and then manage to scowl at Blake, who is standing nonchalantly in the doorway. I'm a bit surprised that he isn't with Jacques and Rebecca but, I suppose, he does have a bad habit of picking fights with her. DPHHS doesn't need to see the worst of us. Per usual, they and the world will get our public faces and nothing more. I frown, recalling something my father used to say about business. It doesn't matter what the truth is, so long as the best of us is what they all believe to be true. People are gullible by nature, no matter how smart we all fancy ourselves over time. My father was nothing if not a cynic but, at the moment, I vaguely resent him for it. Part of me feels suddenly guilty for that, of course, given that, at the end of the day, my father was no worse than most people and fell victim to ambition and, as a partial result of that, severe lung failure. Nevertheless, whenever I recall his ruthless moments, I see my husband's in starker clarity. Words cannot come even close to describing how taxing those moments are on me. Selfish as that paradigm may, be, it is true. When Jacques falls into his (occasionally) dark ambition, I find it more and more difficult to accept it.

"Careless man's careful daughter?" I finally repeat, in part to be polite but more so because I do genuinely like Blake as a human being. If I didn't, he wouldn't be the godfather to my eldest. "Really?" I go on with a teasing smirk. "Shouldn't you tread lightly with someone like me?"

Blake chuckles. "Willow, I think we both can agree that I'm long past treading lightly with anyone. Allie could tell you."

"Speaking of Allie, how is she doing?"

"She's pregnant and a nervous wreck. Not great. I'm only here because she insisted I have to do things other than smother her."

"Sounds about right," I agree, the teasing edge still in my voice. "But , if I were you, I would be afraid of Rebecca skewering you."

"Trust me," Blake says, putting his hands up and miming waving a white flag. "I don't want to be left to her mercy. Rebecca is a crazy bitch. We love her, but she's crazy. I mean that, too. She's absolutely fucking insane. I bet she'll comission a coat made of the neighbors dogs by the end of the year."

I shrug. "Haven't we seen that plenty over the years? I would expect you to have gotten used to it by now."

Blake winks. "See, I knew I liked you, Willow. You have the right kind of sass. Glad you know how to use it."

"You should be," I reply with a smirk. "I use it on you more than anyone else."

"And I'm sure I deserve it," Blake jokingly says, sliding onto the top of the table. "Okay, but, seriously, what are you doing here? I thought you only hung around when Jacques needed you for publicity reasons."

"Don't make it sound like I'm an escort, or a prostitute, or anything less than an equal in my own marriage," I snap, temporarily surprised by my own vitriol. "I could spend more time around here and have far more involvement in the company and its policy but, frankly, I have zero interest in business. If I didn't, my father would have given me the company when he died, not my husband."

Blake raises both his eyebrows, looking a bit like a surprised child. His eyes widen, probably because he's as startled as I feel, and he glances around uncomfortably. I get the feeling I've struck a nerve, but, at the same time, I'm hard pressed to care. Part of me is yelling in my mind, telling me I've gone too far and that I should walk it back. Another part of me, though, wants a fight. I haven't felt that way in years. Truthfully, the thought of it scares me.

"Damn…" Blake softly whistles, the surprise still etched into his face. "I clearly don't give you enough credit. That's a sharp tongue."

"Don't try to flatter me," I warn him. "I'm far less oblivious than I let people believe."

"That, Willow," He says slowly, lowering his voice with each word. "Is most certainly not a fact I have ever doubted."

I'm stunned that I believe him. Blake is a lot of things and we have our clashes, but I've known him for over twenty years and he has never lied to me. To other people, sure, but he's always been straight laced with me. I have no idea why. He doesn't owe me anything and never has. Maybe he just thinks it's right but, my whole life, I've never seen people do or say things that will hinder them in any way, even if what they're setting aside is supposed to be morally right.

"You're an odd person, Blake," I eye him for a few seconds and then shake my head. "How did you get involved in underhanded business when you're as kind as you are? I heard raising base wages was your idea. I'm sure it helps the appearance of the company, but I doubt that was your only reason."

"It wasn't," He agrees. "We've done enough fucked up shit this year. I'd rather not compound that."

I sigh, twisting my hair in my hands. "You're too nice for this work."

"And you're too sweet for Jacques," Blake says. I briefly startle but he gently pats my shoulder. "You can always leave if it's too much. You are not helpless, Willow. Do yourself a favor and don't forget that."

He leaves, humming to himself under his breath. He knows. I wonder, quivering at the thought, how many other people, if any, realise the truth too. If they do...then I have no idea if I can continue to keep this together.