Let It Be Me (Triplets book 1)

Chapter 10

They were two weeks into shooting, and Ophelia had been on Oak Island a little over a week. She had done her best to keep a low profile, and since most of her time was spent at the house, it proved easy to do.

Her days had fallen into a routine. She made breakfast for those dining at the house, and then she spent an hour with Reyna, just like at home. After that, she would work on a checklist for Sullivan, which mostly included confirming previously laid plans. Then at night, she would cook dinner for those who were eating at the house. The Richards, along with Giselle, was rarely around, but they had managed to have a few family meals together.

Ophelia had decided not to decorate for Christmas, but after a few days, Sullivan had told her to do so, that it would make his mother happy. When money was no object, decorating was fun, and the house smelled like pine and cinnamon.

The awkwardness behind the day of her arrival had passed, and she and Sullivan had found their familiar footing, which was talking to each other about work and nothing else. Ophelia had chalked the awkwardness up to overtiredness and the strain of moving from the hotel to a house.

The Richards and Giselle were having dinner at the mayor's house that evening, but Ophelia stayed behind to welcome a new addition to the cast, Mark Hausman. It had been a relief to be able to get out of dinner. The strain of the situation would have been unbearable for multiple reasons.

Marc Hausman was an up-and-coming actor. In his early twenties, he was young. He needed a few independent films under his belt to give him street credit, plus it didn't hurt that the independent film was being directed and produced by Sullivan Richards and starred his entire family.

Marc wasn't due until late, so Ophelia made herself a simple dinner and then sat down at the kitchen table to get caught up on a few things for the next day. It was late, about ten o'clock, when her phone let her know she had a text.

'Please come to the mayor's house. Pops needs extraction!' Sawyer had written.

Ophelia paused and read the text a second time then, with a sigh, she reached for her jacket as the phone dinged again with an address and the words, bring a bucket then every type of alcohol emoji there was, the drooling emoji, the vomiting emoji, the praying emoji and finally the laughing emoji.

Unfortunately, the address was not needed, and she was beyond being surprised by anything the Richards family did or did not do after four years.

Oak Island was a small island, and it took her as long to walk to her car, which was in the hotel's lot as it did to drive to the house. When she pulled up in front of the modern monstrosity, she took a minute to look at the light pouring from the windows as butterflies started in her stomach. This was not going to be fun. With any luck, she could get in and out without being seen. She'd leave the car running just in case.

She got out of the car and walked to the front door using the door knocker to knock, and she felt every thump as if it was a nail in her coffin. A maid opened the door with a polite smile, and Ophelia was relieved that she didn't recognize her.

"May I help you?" she asked in her most polite voice.

"Yes, Mr. Richards asked me to come and pick-up Mr. Richards." That should keep it vague enough. Ophelia expected to be blocked, but the maid stood aside with a smile and let her pass. She then tried to usher Ophelia into a drawing-room full of voices, but Ophelia held back.

"Could you let him know I'm here?" She looked down at herself. "I'm not really dressed correctly."

"I'm sure it's fine," the maid said, walking into the room and announcing her as Mr. Richard's friend. It made her cringe, but there was nothing for it but to follow the maid into the room where her eyes look in seven pairs of eyes staring at her. The only person missing was Pops.