Olivia // l.t.

Chapter 11

Olivia

Carol Rhea was literally the human embodiment of nails on a chalkboard. She was bitter, pretentious, and never under any circumstances was she wrong.

Given, she did argue with people for a living. That is exactly why she was in town. She was working for some big case, and decided to just drop by and see me.

However what turned into an awkward meet and greet in my living room at nine pm on a Sunday, turned into a stiff, yet classy dinner Monday.

All day at work I had dreaded dinner with my mother, because it isn't like a phone call or a text message.

I couldn't lose service, or not answer, she was sitting in front of me, I had to converse.

I loved my mother, don't get me wrong. But she was absolutely impossible to impress, and even more difficult to talk to.

"So how is that writing hobby of yours going?" she asked as she took a sip of her wine. I watched the waiter serve the next table silently begging with my eyes for him to rescue me.

"You mean my job?" I said flatly, and she sighed. "Oh Olivia, I wish you would have continued with law school, you would have made such a wonderful paralegal."

I jumped when my phone buzzed in my lap, and I felt my mothers glare from across the table.

Louis and I had been messaging the better part of the day, nothing too important, just quick little witty responses.

Louis: "So how do you feel about dinner this Friday?"

My mother cleared her throat, and I looked up at her disapproving face. "No phones at the dinner table." She scolded, and I internally screamed.

"Mother I'm twenty five, not twelve." I replied as calmly as I could. "Who is so important that you are neglecting quality time with your mother, whom you barely speak to as is?" she snapped.

I looked down, then placed my phone face down on the table. "Just a friend." She raised her eyebrows, and I waited for the game of twenty questions.

"What kind of friend?" she asked. "He's really nice, and it isn't important don't worry about it." I said quickly, and internally cringed when my phone buzzed not once, but three times.

"It sure seems important." her eyes darted to my phone, and I cautiously picked it up.

Louis: "How's seven?"

Louis: "Wait no that's too late."

Louis: "Five thirty?"

I typed a quick response okaying the time. "What's his name." She drilled and I wanted to change the subject immediately.

"His name is Louis. So what case are you in town for?" I didn't even try to smoothly transition.

She gave me a fake smile, and took another sip of her wine. "Invite him to dinner." She looked me dead in the eyes as she said it.

"What? No. He's busy, and no." I stuttered and she laughed at my discomfort. "He's obviously not busy enough, and I feel like he's already here anyway."

"Seriously, this is not a good idea." I voiced, and then I stopped talking to think. My mother always disapproves of the things in my life.

Maybe if she met Louis, he would realize what a mess he would be getting himself into, and decide to run fast and far.