No More Picking Up His Pieces Chapter 04

No More Picking Up His Pieces Chapter 04 Her Name
The workshop was quiet. As the lights came on, the familiar smell of metal, wood, and old velvet washed over Arabella, making her eyes sting before she could stop it.

She hadn’t been back in two years.

The display case facing the street was still there. To the right stood the restoration bench, and by the window was the row of old wooden shelves she had picked out herself.

Even the green ceramic vase in the corner, the one she had always hated and kept meaning to replace, hadn’t changed.

Brooke stood aside, watching her carefully. “Arabella?”

Arabella pushed her suitcase beside the table and came back to herself. “Go on.”

Brooke quickly handed her phone over. “Kingston Group just got its story straight. They’re saying the bridal jewelry set wasn’t lent out privately. It was a last-minute treasure loan exhibition under Kingston Jewelry.”

Arabella looked down at the screen. The press release was slick and carefully worded: Kingston Group’s cultural heritage project had made its debut at the charity gala.

According to the statement, the antique bridal jewelry set was making its first public appearance after being restored by Kingston Jewelry.

The woman wearing it was described as a business partner’s family member, while Maxwell had merely accompanied her to the event.

Arabella’s gaze stopped on the line where Kingston took credit for the restoration, and she laughed out loud.

A chill ran down Brooke’s back. She knew that laugh too well.

If Arabella cried or cursed, there was still room to fix things. But when she laughed like this, it usually meant the problem was about to get much bigger.

“Arabella,” Brooke asked carefully, “what are we going to do?”

Arabella set the phone down and slowly rolled up her sleeves. “They want to take credit for my work, right?”

She walked to the restoration bench, pulled open the bottom drawer, took out a brown paper bag, and slapped it onto the table. “Then let them try. If they actually pull it off, I’ll admit I lost.”

Brooke froze. “What’s that?”

Arabella didn’t look up as she pulled the contents from the bag one by one.

There were photos from before the restoration, enlarged shots of cracked diamond settings, welding records for broken filigree points, and sketches for remounting the cracked ruby.

There was also the restoration log Arabella had written herself. Page after page was filled with her sharp, angular handwriting, the strokes almost carved into the paper.

Brooke’s eyes lit up the longer she looked. “You kept all this?”

Arabella gave a cold laugh. “I restore things. I don’t work for free. I keep records of who touched what, what got changed, and who might try to steal the credit later.”

As she spoke, Arabella opened the metal cabinet beside her and pulled a hard drive from the very back. “The supervision video is here too.

“Opening the case, taking the pieces apart, remounting the stones, putting the finished set back together. It’s all on here.”

Brooke drew in a sharp breath. “Then Kingston Group is screwed this time, right?”

Arabella looked up at her. “That depends on whether they know when to stop.”

The moment she said that, the sharp, uneven click of high heels hurried down the hall outside the workshop.

Brooke turned first, and her expression tightened when she saw the woman at the door.

It was Samantha Reed, the project director of Kingston Jewelry.

Samantha stepped inside, still catching her breath, and forced out a smile. “Ms. Wayne, I’m sorry to come by so late.”

Arabella didn’t even lift her head, still sorting through her papers. “Then don’t.”

Samantha’s smile stiffened. She had known Arabella wouldn’t be easy to deal with, but she hadn’t expected to be shut down before she could even begin.

Samantha steadied herself and continued, “Ms. Wayne, Mr. Kingston wants to get the public reaction under control first. As for the restoration credit and project ownership, we can sit down tomorrow and talk it through.”

Arabella finally looked up. “Talk it through?”

“Yes.” Samantha seized the chance at once. “This has already blown up, and everyone is watching. It would be difficult for Kingston Group to—”

“Difficult to what?” Arabella cut her off. “Say I did the restoration, or admit the bridal jewelry set was privately lent to another woman?”

Samantha’s face went pale. “Ms. Wayne, spinning this now won’t do anyone any good.”

Arabella stared at her, then suddenly smiled. “There it is again. Do all of you love that line? Won’t do anyone any good.”

She braced one hand on the restoration bench and stood, then walked toward Samantha step by step. Earlier, her eyes had been red from holding back tears. Now they were startlingly bright.

Arabella went on, “Tell me, then. When that woman stood in the spotlight last night wearing the bridal jewelry set, how exactly was that good for me?

“When the Kingstons called me back and told me to play along with their cleanup, was that supposed to be good for me too?

“And when Maxwell said she had only borrowed it for one night, was I supposed to thank him for that?”

Samantha opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Arabella nodded. “So none of this was for my sake. Then don’t stand here lecturing me about what’s best for everyone.”

The workshop went dead quiet.

Samantha had come in ready to throw her weight around as project director, but Arabella had shut her down in three sentences.

Samantha gritted her teeth and changed tactics. “Ms. Wayne, you’ve been tied to the Kingston Group for years. You know how this works.

“If you put out a statement saying the bridal jewelry set was only on loan for the project, the story dies down. It protects your reputation too.”

Arabella stared at her as the expression on her face slowly hardened. “Protects my reputation?”

Without warning, she grabbed a pair of fine tweezers from the restoration bench and slapped them down beside Samantha’s hand.

The sound wasn’t loud, but Samantha still flinched.

Arabella leaned in, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous calm. “Go back and tell Kingston Group this. They can lend out the bridal jewelry set. They can make fools of themselves all they want.

“But they don’t get to use my name.”

Samantha’s face went completely white. She seemed about to say something, but her phone rang just then.

Arabella caught Maxwell’s name on the screen at a glance.

Samantha looked like she had found a lifeline and answered quickly, “Mr. Kingston, I’m already at the workshop, but Ms. Wayne—”

Before she could continue, Maxwell’s low, heavy voice came through the phone. “Put her on.”

His voice carried clearly through the quiet workshop. Samantha stiffened, then quickly handed the phone to Arabella.

Arabella took it and turned toward the window. “Say it.”

After a moment of silence, Maxwell spoke again, his voice low and tight. “What are you doing?”

Arabella looked at her slightly disheveled reflection in the glass and smiled. “You’re asking me that now, Mr. Kingston?”

“I’m asking what you’re doing.”

“Protecting myself,” Arabella said. “And demanding an explanation.”

“Arabella.” Maxwell’s voice went flat. “Don’t make this bigger than it has to be.”

Arabella almost laughed. “Maxwell, is that really all you have to say?”

His breathing grew heavier on the other end of the line.

Arabella leaned against the window and looked down at the empty street below, her voice steady. “You lent the bridal jewelry set to someone else, and I was supposed to stay quiet.

“Your family tried to erase my credit, and I was supposed to stay quiet.

“Now Kingston Group is using my restoration work to clean up your mess, and you still want me to stay quiet. Your family’s reputation matters, but mine doesn’t?”

He fell silent for a moment before he said, “Whatever you want, I’ll make it up to you later.”

Arabella laughed the second she heard it.

Listening from the side, Brooke felt her scalp prickle. She knew that was exactly the kind of line that would set Arabella off.

Sure enough, Arabella asked right after, “Make it up to me with what? Money? A project? Or are you going to give me back the respect Mrs. Kingston was supposed to have?”

Her eyes slowly reddened, but her voice only grew softer. “Maxwell, I don’t even want that bridal jewelry set anymore. What could you possibly give me now?”

The silence on the other end told Arabella she had cornered him. Maxwell was exactly that kind of man: he could compensate her for anything, but he would never apologize.

Arabella closed her eyes for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was cold. “If you’re that desperate to make this go away, come handle it yourself. Don’t send someone else to me.”

With that, she hung up.

Samantha stood nearby, her expression frozen. “Ms. Wayne, Mr. Kingston was only…”

Arabella tossed the phone back to her. “Get out.”

Samantha’s face flushed, then went pale. After all her years at Kingston Group, no one had ever thrown her out so bluntly.

But looking at Arabella now, she truly didn’t dare stay. In the end, she could only leave her with one last warning. “Ms. Wayne, you’d better think this through. If you take this too far, it won’t end well for you.”

Arabella heard her but didn’t even turn around. “Too far?”

She picked up the hard drive from the restoration bench and turned it over in her hand. “If Kingston Group isn’t afraid of taking things that far, then tell them to go ahead and post that statement tomorrow.”

After Samantha left, the workshop finally went quiet again.

Brooke hurried over and lowered her voice. “Arabella, are we really going up against Kingston Group?”

Arabella kept organizing the restoration log and original drafts, laying them out one by one. “We’re not the ones picking a fight. They’re the ones trying to take what isn’t theirs.”

As she spoke, she pulled an old folder from the back of the drawer. Inside was the restoration authorization form Alma had filled out by hand.

At the bottom, Alma had added one extra note: [This bridal jewelry set is an old Kingston family wedding piece and is not for public display.]

Brooke’s eyes lit up. “Arabella, if we release this, Kingston Group’s whole treasure loan exhibition claim will become a joke.”

Arabella pinched the paper between her fingers. ‘A joke,’ she thought. ‘I’ve seen enough of those since last night. Now it’s the Kingston family’s turn.’

She was about to speak when a car braked hard outside. A moment later, quick, heavy footsteps came up the stairs.

Brooke looked up, her expression changing at once. “Arabella…”

Arabella had already recognized those footsteps. Maxwell had come after her.

A second later, the workshop door was pushed open from outside.

Maxwell stood in the doorway in his black coat, still cold from the night air. The wind had ruffled his hair, and his expression was grim.

His eyes swept over the restoration diagrams, the authorization form, the hard drive, and the photos spread across the table before settling on Arabella.

She stood under the light with her sleeves rolled to her elbows, a faint trace of gold dust still clinging to her fingertips.

Maxwell looked at her for a long moment without saying anything.

In the end, Arabella spoke first. She looked at him with a faint, humorless smile. “Good. You’re here.”

She picked up the restoration authorization form and slapped it down in front of him. “Maxwell, tell me the truth.

“Did the Kingstons lend this bridal jewelry set to another woman, or were you planning to use my work and cut me out completely?”