Muriel has had her life sculpted and figured out by her well-renowned defense attorney father since she was a child. His Moto: Head down, do your schoolwork, be the best, and always do the right thing.
But what happens when she catches her father wi...
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"What are you doing here?" I walk across the dirt driveway and meet Ollie who is now grinning carrying his duffel bag over one shoulder and heading towards the front door.
He's dressed in grey sweatpants, all black tennis shoes, and a plain black t-shirt. And on top of his head is the worn black NY baseball cap I had worn in my walk through Notting Hill.
"I'm staying here." He chuckles.
"No..." I stop in my tracks and plant my hand on my hip. I don't want to come off rude or inconsiderate being this place technically belongs to his family, but I need this weekend. I've deserved it. "I'm staying here...by myself."
"Right..." Ollie spins and starts shuffling backward making his way to the mudroom door. "And are you going to fix the sink as well?"
"I- wait...you're going to fix it?"
He cocks his head and smirks pausing in front of the door, "Who do you reckon takes care of this place?".
I scoff impolitely because the Thomas's have more than enough money to pay for a caretaker to run this place. And on top of that Ollie can't fix anything. He doesn't have the patience for it and he sure as heck doesn't have the patience to read an instruction manual. "You're messing with me?"
"Afraid not, Murry."
He turns and for a moment I consider returning to London...
No. This is my weekend. I'm done making accommodations for other people. "Sorry, but I'm staying here, Ollie. Jane said I could stay here as long as I wanted."
Ollie turns back to face me and adjusts the duffel bag on his shoulder. The tendons in his wrist shift and he huffs out, "So stay here. There's plenty of rooms to pick from." He returns back to the door and opens it.
"But-" I stomp over a little afraid at the realization I just might be sharing this big house with him...alone.
Ollie abruptly stops and twists around. I jump back nearly walking straight into him, "Look, Murry, I've been coming here every weekend since I wrapped up with work. You're more than welcome to stay, as Mum said, but I'm here till' Sunday."
He's stern and short with me even causing me to tense up and suck onto the bottom of my lip. He was much less intimidating when we were younger and his voice wasn't so deep, and he didn't stand nearly a head taller than me.
He sighs and speaks softer. "I understand you want some solitude. I won't bother you while I'm here. You won't even know see me."
"No." I shake my head.
I know I'm being irrational but I made a plan and I didn't want anything to mess it up. And now, with Ollie here, the king of messing things up, the anxiety of what this relaxing mind- clearing weekend could turn into is scary.
