Abe chuckles fondly, patting the top of her arm, “Come, come,” he gestures for her to follow him before he drags out the chair next to his and waits for her to sit before tucking it into the table and taking his own.
Stifling the roll of my eyes, I take the seat opposite them, spinning my glass on the coaster.
“Big day tomorrow,” My grandfather starts, “You nervous?”
Her shoulders stiffen but the manners that were taught to her, her whole life win over, “Not nervous per se,” she rolls her lips, “Hesitant.”
I chuckle into my glass, taking a sip as she struggles to remain polite.
“Mm,” Abe agrees, “I would be hesitant too if I was marrying that buffoon.”
“I am your grandson,” I point out, “You’re supposed to sing my praises, not offend me.”
“Are you offended?” Abe asks.
“No.”
“Exactly.”
Before he can continue his tirade to my future wife, dinner is brought in, an Italian dish my grandfather requested earlier in the day. Olivia is served first, then my grandfather and me, before a bottle of wine is placed in the center of the table.
I get up to grab the chilled bottle, leaning across to pluck up Olivia’s glass to pour it in.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, accepting the glass as I pass it back to her and go about pouring for my grandfather and me.
“I’ll be walking you down the aisle tomorrow,” My grandfather casually announces, “Don’t worry, I won’t let you trip.”
“You will?” She gasps.
“Malakai tells me you don’t have much family,” Abe says, digging into his food, “it would be an honor to hand you over to my grandson.”
“Oh.” Is all Olivia responds with.
The rest of dinner is mostly spent in silence with the casual words being had here and there and when the plates are cleared, I expect Olivia to run away but to my surprise she accepts another glass of wine and settles into an easy conversation with my grandfather.
I just choose to watch them, listening to her talk abouther father’s hotel, which she is now the owner of, and all the travels she has taken with her best friend. It’s an unfiltered view of the woman in front of me, giving me a subtle glimpse intowhoshe is.
My grandfather has always been a people person, he can get anyone to talk and be comfortable around him. It’s a gift, he likes to say, and a weapon. Secrets, he tells me, they’re the greatest currency and making someone trust him enough to spill their secrets is the best arsenal to have.
Olivia lights up as she speaks with him, especially when talking about her sister and best friend, but it makes me wonder just how many people are in Olivia’s life. After I’d looked into her, the only two names that were relevant were her sister and Willow.
She didn’t have many people in her corner, I realize and it’s probably part of the reason she so willingly threw herself into my hands to save her sister. If you don’t have much, you fear losing it far more greatly.
“I’ll see you at the end of the aisle,” Abe stands from the table with a soft smile aimed at Olivia.
She nods, “Yeah.” The word comes out as a whisper, “You will.”
“Chin up, sweetheart,” Abe knocks her chin fondly, “He’s not that bad.”
The most adorable little snort laugh leaves her at his words, and she flicks her eyes to me, letting them roll down my body with a mixture of disdain and disgust, “I’ll take your word on it.”
My grandfather chuckles, slaps me on the shoulder and exits the dining room, heading to his bedroom inthe east wing of the house.
Olivia sips the remainder of her wine quietly, looking everywhere else but at me.
“Your stylists will be here at nine a.m.” I say, filling the silence, “Willow has been invited to join too.”
“Okay,” She answers.
