Mr. President You Are The Daddy Of My Triplets novel Chapter 502

Chapter 502: 502- Backfire

"Ariel. This is too much," Abigail muttered, gripping the armrest as she sank into the plush chair of this high-end salon, "A simple trim would have been fine," She watched a stylist through the mirror, approaching her with a pair of scissors.

"Nonsense!" Ariel waved her off, without looking up, flipping through a magazine, "You need to get rid of that rough part. It’s time for a proper hairstyle."

"My hair is just fine!"

Ariel gave her a warning glare just like a stern mom would do.

Abigail couldn’t say anything when the stylist started snipping away. Meanwhile, two attendants began working on her nails.

"Who gets a pedicure or manicure during a haircut?" she was sitting there like a dummy, scared of the scissors near her head.

"Don’t worry. She is good at her job and will let you go before your massage," Abigail groaned when her feet were soaked in warm water.

"See? It’s relaxing! Right? Just have patience. Once she applies the hair mask, they will also start working on your toes."

By the time they were done, Abigail felt like a new person. After that scrub and massage, her skin was glowing.

Ariel’s lips twitched into a smile when she saw her sister, "You look amazing, Abi."

Abigail was already staring at her reflection and was stunned, "I ... look different..." She raised her hand and touched the surface of the mirror, "Is it really me?"

"This is the real you, sweetheart," Ariel patted her back and brought her out of the building.

***

"Why are we here?" Abigail asked her nervously when saw her pulling over the car in front of the Star Corps building.

"Just for a little while, sweetheart. My project research needs his office stamp and his signature," She killed the engine and got out.

Abigail didn’t want to step outside, so she opened the door and called out to her sister, "Why don’t I wait for you here and you go ahead and get it signed?"

She couldn’t go inside the building where she had been working as a maid. Maybe her sister understood; that’s why didn’t force her this time, "I’ll be back in a jiffy."

Abigail leaned against the car, scrolling through her phone while waiting. The Star Corp parking lot was mostly empty, except for a few passing cars. If she knew Ariel was planning to come here, she would have asked her dad to send another car for her.

Her father’s handsome face popped into her mind, which made her smile. Nowadays, he was acting as her genie who was there to fulfill her every wish.

She sighed glancing at the elevator area, wondering what was taking Ariel so long.

In that instant, she saw Olivia and Emma lugging two large trash bags to the bin near the exit gate of the parking lot.

"Hey, you two!" she waved her hand excitedly.

"Anaya!" They dusted off their hands and walked over, eyeing Abigail up and down.

"Wow. Look at you!" Olivia whistled, making Abi blush.

"You’re glowing, Anaya!" Emma said, feeling a bit awkward, "I’m sorry. I can’t hug you right now. My uniform is all dirty and..."

She trailed off when Abigail didn’t let her finish and pulled them both into a tight hug, "Shut up, bitch! I missed you both." _{freēwēbηovel.c૦m}

"Aww," Olivia placed her arms around her friend who now looked more beautiful than ever, "I like your new hairstyle," she said, moving back from the hug.

"Yeah. But I’m planning to grow it."

Emma grinned at that, "Just like your mom?"

"Just like my mom."

Olivia’s gaze fell on the trash bag that they needed to dispose of, "Alright. We should get moving before Mrs. Eileen catches us slacking."

"Yes, please. Get done with your job. I’m waiting for Ariel. She went to Mr. Donovan’s office for his signatures."

Just as her friends turned to leave, the elevator doors opened, and the familiar tall figure of George Donovan came into view.

Taking long strides, he came towards her, "Come on. Ariel told me that you were here."

He held her hand, "No need to stay in the parking lot."

Abigail stiffened, blinking in surprise.

"Oh, God!" Olivia mumbled, nudging Emma while Abi and George were going towards the elevator, "Did the boss come to pick her up himself? He never does that. Does he?"

Their friend had vanished behind the elevator door along with their boss.

They kept staring at the floor, not knowing what to say anymore. Poor Olivia didn’t feel confident anymore.

"Please tell me. What is it?" Ariel’s voice was firm this time, "You should finish it if you have started it."

Emma decided to take the lead and bit her lips before speaking, "It’s about Abigail and Mr. Donovan."

Ariel’s arms dropped to her side, "What about them?" she wasn’t sure anymore what these girls wanted from her.

"Th...they..." Olivia gulped hard, "They are... involved."

"Involved?" Ariel scoffed, "What do you mean?"

"We mean..." Olivia cleared he throat, "We mean, like ... together... really together..."

Emma nodded, "She and George like each other but... but ever since Abigail got to know that you two are already in a relationship, she stepped back."

Ariel’s head jerked back slightly, "Excuse me?"

"She believes... you are interested in him," Olivia carefully explained to the girl who seemed friendly at first glance, but now she wasn’t sure if Ariel Sinclair was really what she posed to be.

"And since you are her sister whom she found after so many years, she doesn’t want to destroy her relationship with you."

Ariel blinked. Then, without warning, she let out a sharp laugh, "You’re joking. Right?"

Olivia and Emma exchanged glances but remained quiet. Ariel repeated her question, "Right?"

When they didn’t answer, she ran a hand through her hair, "Th...this sounds ridiculous..." She then looked up at the girls and gave them a tight-lipped smile, "Thanks for informing. I appreciate it."

The initial friendliness had suddenly turned into a formality.

Before they could utter another word, she turned on her heels and walked away, leaving them there, gaping at her.

"I hope this doesn’t blow back," Olivia muttered.

"But you weren’t worried about our jobs. Why now?" Emma hesitated before asking, clearly perplexed.

"I’m not worried about us, Em. I’m worried about our friend. I hope this doesn’t backfire on her."