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.

"Ophelia!" Sawyer greeted, walking towards her and dropping a kiss on her cheek. "Play it cool, and we can get him out of here without anyone being the wiser."

Ophelia lifted her cheek for a kiss and gave a polite smile.

"Everyone, you know Ophelia, except for you, Madam Mayor," Sawyer introduced her to the circle.

"I know her. Hello Ophelia," Noelle Barrett greeted without a smile. In fact, her look was downright frigid. She hadn't changed. Her platinum blond hair was arranged in the perfect coil, her makeup was perfect, and a costly dress highlighted her lovely figure. She had indeed married up, and her cold greeting made Ophelia angry, which made her willing to poke the bear.

"Hello, Mother," Ophelia's voice was just as cold. Noelle hated it when she was reminded that Ophelia was her daughter. She did her best to forget her first marriage.

"Gavin, Kaylee," Ophelia said with a nod.

The Richards, to their credit, didn't say a word, and she couldn't bring herself to look at them.

"Why are you here?" Noelle asked, sitting her glass down a little too hard on the glass end table.

Ophelia opened her mouth to make a smart comment, but Sullivan reached out and grabbed her arm, squeezing it in a warning.

"I'm afraid I sent out an SOS, our father needs to lift home for his early call out, and the rest of us aren't quite ready to leave yet." Sawyer smiled his most charming smile.

"Oh, that's right! She works for you," Kaylee said with a snicker. "How lucky you are to work for such a prestigious family, Ophelia. How did you land a job like that?"

"Be careful little sister, your inner brat is showing, and that might keep you from catching one of the two most eligible bachelors in the room, or the whole island for that matter. It's not like you're going to meet anyone else since you still live with Mommy and Daddy!" Ophelia bit her lip as she turned to Sullivan with repentant eyes, immediately sorry for her tirade. "Is Pop's ready?" she asked, begging him to forgive her and get her out of there.

"Pops, how quaint. Are you sure you're not trying to get one of them for yourself?" Kaylee laughed, and Ophelia realized that the girl had had too much to drink, which made her easier to ignore.

Ophelia didn't turn around but kept her eyes glued to Sullivan's, focusing on the specs of gold in the brown iris to keep her anger in check. She could never be anything but calm when looking into his warm brown eyes because everything else fell away.

"Come with me, dear. Pop's is in the powder room." Reyna said as she linked her arm through Ophelia's and led her out of the room with a dramatic flair that somehow made everything alright.

As they walked down the hall, they could hear Carson's low baritone singing 'Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen' coming from behind the bathroom door.

"Sawyer locked him in there with a bottle of Jack to keep him happy," Reyna said as she pulled an old-fashioned key from her pocket and unlocked the door.

"This pretentious house even has pretentious door locks," Reyna said as she threw the key on the counter. "Dear, Ophelia is here to take you home and put you to bed," Reyna cooed as she snatched the bottle from his hand. "Is the coast clear?" she asked as she helped her husband stand.

Ophelia looked up and down the hall, forgetting all about the run-in with her mother and half-sister in the urgency of the situation.

"Yes, is tomorrow the drunk scene?' Ophelia asked as she got on the other side of Pops, and they started their long walk down the hall.

"Ofeeeeliaaa," Pops slurred. "I'm afraid I can't go home to bed with you. Not that you aren't beautiful, and I am ho-honored by the invite, but I am a hap-hap-happily married man." He finished with a hiccup.

"He said it had been too long since he was drunk, and he needed to remember what it felt like. What I don't understand is why he had to pick tonight!" Reyna huffed a little under the weight of her husband.

They were halfway down the hall when Sullivan came walking towards them quickly.

"You go back in the drawing-room, Momma, and distract them with your charm. I'll help Ophelia." Sullivan took most of the weight of his father, releasing Reyna from her burden.

"What am I going to do with you, you silly man!" Reyna exclaimed, dropping a quick kiss on this lips before reentering the room with the others.

Sullivan and Ophelia quickly moved Pops to the car and pushed him in the back seat. Ophelia reached into the front and shoved a trashcan into his lap. "Don't throw up in my car!" she hissed as she slammed the door on him.

He promptly began singing Swing Low Sweet Chariot, and Ophelia couldn't help but smile.

"Who knew Pop's had such a good singing voice!" she laughed as she turned to Sullivan for confirmation, but he wasn't watching Pops. He was watching her.

It caught her totally off guard when he grabbed her cheeks and kissed her.

It stunned Ophelia at first, but then she melted into him, enjoying the taste of the wine that lingered on his lips and the smell of his aftershave. She had always wondered what it would be like to kiss him, but she had never imagined it would make her want to cry and laugh all at the same time.

"What was that for?" she asked when they both came up for air.

"That was for being you, Ophelia." His words were gruff, and they made her want to kiss him again. She looked at his lips and thought about what he would do if she did, but Pops chose that moment to roll down the window and make kissy noises at them.

"Sully and Phee sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-ng, first comes love then comes marriage-"

Sullivan placed his hand on his father's forehead and pushed him backward, and the moment was gone.

"Has Hausman arrived?" he asked as she shot his father a warning look.

"He hadn't arrived when I left," Ophelia said, getting that it was time to move.

"We'll be home as soon as we can. If you can't get Pops upstairs, stick him somewhere safe until we get home." Sullivan said before he turned and went back into the house.

"I'll lock him in the bathroom with a bottle of Jack," Ophelia muttered under her breath as she climbed into the car and put it into drive. They got halfway to the house when Pops sat up and sighed.

Ophelia slammed on her breaks, thinking he was about to throw up. "Are you alright, Pops!" she asked.

"Now, I am! I have never been so bored in my life, but at least I still know how to act drunk." He grinned at his joke.

"Pops! You made me go into that house, where I am hated, to get you, you watched me and Sullivan kiss, and you weren't drunk!" Ophelia turned around as best she could to stare at him.

"How was the kiss? It took you two long enough!" Then he frowned. "What do you mean a house where you're hated? Didn't we have this conversation a week ago?" he asked, confused. Maybe he was a bit drunk after all.

"The mayor's wife is my mother, and she hates me!" Ophelia put the car into drive. She didn't know if she should laugh or cry. At least the Richards' were never boring.

"How can anyone hate you, Ophelia?" He sounded distraught at the thought while not being concerned that she had just revealed that  Noelle Barrett was her mother. Yep, a little drunk after all.

"Oh, they can, ask the others. They were there." Again, practically a repeat of a previous conversation. Taking a deep breath, she drove back to the hotel with the thought that at least she didn't have to try to get him upstairs by herself.

Then she thought about Sullivan's kiss and realized that it could very well change everything and not necessarily for the better, and it was all his fault.

"Damnit, Pops! You shouldn't have done that!"

"But I did, and there are no take-backs." He looked so solemn.

Ophelia parked the car, and they walked back to the house on foot in silence, arm and arm, each supporting the other.

When they arrived, Marc Hausman was waiting on the porch swing for them.

One foot in front of the other girl, Ophelia told herself as she greeted him and took both men into the house.

Only time would tell what the outcome of her and Sullivan's kiss would be.