“Yes.”
“Do you drive him around?”
“Sometimes.”
So chatty. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, “He drives himself?”
“Sometimes.”
I loosen a breath, “Why doesn’t anyone want to talk to me?”
Those eyes move to me once more, staying longer on me in the mirror than before, “It isn’t you.” He eventually says.
“Did Malakai tell them to ignore me?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” He focuses back on the road as the gates slide open at the end of the long drive.
“That’s because no one tells me anything,” I lean back against the warm seats, “Of course I’m going to be curious.”
“Malakai didn’t tell them. The staff are hesitant with you because the previous woman who was in the house treated them like shit. Plus, they know you’re messing with his order, and they worry they’ll be blamed.”
“Malakai is very aware it’s me doing it,” I roll my eyes, “And whoever she is, I’m nothing like her. Ask Louis!”
“I know, Mrs. Farrow,” Dennis sighs.
“Olivia,” I correct, “Say it with me, Olivia.”
A smirk tugs on his mouth, “Would you like music, Mrs. Farrow?”
I let out a disgruntled huff, “Yes.”
He laughs as he presses a button on the dash and music begins to play through the speakers.
There is a constant stream of people coming in and out of the hotel, the reception filled to the brim with people as staff scurry back and forth trying to accommodate them. Dennis parks the car out front, in the spot reserved for me and gets out to open my door.
“I’ll be here when you’re done,” He tells me.
“Thank you, I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“Take your time,” He gives me what can only be an attempt of a smile, but it looks more scowl like. I shake my head and walk toward the doors, letting a couple out before I slip in the open door.
It smells like home here. My father never once changed the scent of lilac and honey that had been a constant here, or the burgundy walls and gold trimmings. The décor was a bit outdated if you asked me, but the guests seem to like it.
I head to the front desk, finding Meredith, one of our oldest members of staff, smiling behind the computer.
“Hi, Mere,” I greet her, walking around the desk to give her a hug.
We grew up here and this woman had been our babysitter on more occasions that I could count.
“Oli!” She beams, jumping up far quicker than a woman of her age should be able to manage. She’s due to retire… actually I think she was supposed to a few years back, but she never did.
She wraps me up in a warm hug, the feel of her arms around me easing some tension that had been lining my body for a week now.
“What are you doing here?” She asks, “Shouldn’t you be off on some romantic honeymoon still?”
“You saw the papers?”
“Of course I did!” She tuts, “Well, I went to read them, then they pissed me off because they couldn’t be more wrong about you, so I just looked at all the pictures. You looked stunning.”
