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The Keeper of the Keeper by magicdaydreams
Chapter 12 : If it Isn't Broken, Stop Trying to Fix It
 
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              The tension in the room fell apart and crumbled to the ground like a proper French pastry. I stood there with my mouth grasping at words, my head couldn’t provide. I must have looked absolutely ridiculous, because a smile cracked open on Oliver’s face and suddenly he didn’t look quite as messy as he had before. I felt my lips close and pull up in to an unintentional smile as well.

I held a hand to my forehead and, leaning against the wall, slid down to a seated position on the floor. That was when we both started laughing. I knew the entire time that I was being ridiculous, but knowing that Oliver had jumped to such extreme conclusions made me feel only partially crazy.

My abs ached by the time we regained composure and there were tears streaming down my face. Oliver stood up and came over to me timidly. He was testing the water to see if it would be okay if he sat down. Instead I stood and went in to the kitchen to fetch our cups of coffee. Leaning against the counter, I extended his out to him, while taking a sip of my own. He accepted it, but stepped closer to me so that he could place it on the counter behind me. I swallowed the swig of coffee I had taken and it went down hard and slowly. I hadn’t been this close to Oliver in a while. I could feel the heat pouring off of his body, and I could see the drunken stupor leaving his eyes. Gingerly I set my cup down and looked up in to his hazy eyes. He smirked down at me and I lost it.

Slow, chubby tears ran down my cheeks just minutes after I wrapped Oliver up in a hug that I had to stand on my tiptoes to deliver. I wanted nothing more than to hold on to Oliver, but to be honest, he smelled like the rubbish bin out behind bars right around last call.

I wiped away a few tears, plugged my nose and pointed to the bathroom, “You. Shower. Now.”

He chuckled, but didn’t argue. When I heard the shower turn on, I went in to the bathroom and collected his discarded clothes to put them in the washing machine.

My mind raced while the water pattered to the floor of the shower. I only let the fact that starting the washing machine had dosed Oliver in cold water amuse me slightly because I was still really confused about the situation.

I had been acting like a mental patient. That was a fact. Unfortunately, this problem wasn’t solved by admitting that I had made a mistake, because I wasn’t totally convinced that I had made a mistake. With Oliver’s clothes in the wash, and him in the shower I was able to sit with my thoughts pouring out like Niagra Falls. I even had to go as far as to pull out a quill and parchment to make some sense of the mess in my head.

Yes, I wanted Oliver. He was attractive, he had been there for me, and he and I got along better than most of my other relationships other than Ellie. No, we had not established what the hell was going on with us and I wasn’t convinced I wanted to get in to that because he might suggest relationship, and I’m a chicken shit. Yes, I wrote that.

I dropped the quill to the ground, grunted and doubled over to put my head in to my lap. With my forehead pressed against the parchment I had scribbled on, I willed my mind to make sense of the jumbled mess. It said no, and then promptly went blank. I couldn’t make sense of anything.

“You’re going to get ink on your forehead.” I heard Oliver quip from the door of the bathroom.

“How long have you been standing there?” I pushed out without sitting up.

I realized the puttering of water had stopped a while ago and I finally pulled myself up to look over towards Oliver. He was smirking and had himself sexily propped up against the doorframe wearing nothing but a bath towel.

“You’re naked.”

“I’m not, plus you took my clothes.” He stated this matter-of-factly, totally unphased by his lack of clothes.

He came over and perched on the arm of the couch, careful to keep his bits covered by the towel. He was successful, but my mind supplied the visual anyways, so it really didn’t matter.

“Okay, what’s going on?” He asked.

I wasn’t very good at hiding my emotions and the list in front of me wasn’t helping at all. I sighed and decided to shoot straight.

“That’s exactly my question.” I suck at shooting straight.

“What?”

“Okay, what is going on with us.”

His face contorted in confusion and then slowly flattened out when he realized what I was talking about. He nibbled on the side of his lip and 48%of me wanted to forego the conversation and pull him down on top of me. The majority won, and I sat patiently waiting for him to reply.

“I guess I don’t know. I didn’t think we were trying to be something with a definition. Are we? Do you want to…date…and stuff.”

He was terrified of the words as they fell from his mouth, and if I’m being honest, so was I. He easily read the doe-eyed expression on my face and heaved a sigh of relief. I didn’t want a proper relationship any more than he did at this point.

“It’s just that I’m just getting back on the field and…”

“It’s just that I’m finally getting more responsibility and…”

Our words overlapped and then our subdued laughter mingled in the air before we returned to an odd silence.

“So does that mean that we go back to being just platonic friends?” Oliver was the one who ventured forward with the question.

“Oh God, No!” I burst out, clapping my hand over my mouth and flushing as soon as I realized what I had said.

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at me and I shoved him off the couch.

“Well its good to know where your mind is at least.” He said playfully as he clutched the towel that was threatening to fall off.

“Have you seen yourself?” Apparently I was crass and brazen today.

He just laughed and looked towards the ground, but I could see the pink rising in his cheeks.

“So, ya wanna?” he said when he finally regained a bit of composure.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t like to take advantage of people who were drinking.”

Oliver looked chastised. As he should. Before he could respond, however, we were interrupted by a know on the door.

“Adelynn Lavoie? It’s me, Carlee Kyle from the main office.”

“Shit,” I muttered under her breath as Oliver shot up at the sound of the female voice coming from the other side of the door. “What is today?”

“Monday?”

“Wait, really? You went out drinking on a Sunday night. Don’t you have practice on weekdays? Why are you even still here?”

“As much as I’d like to withstand the half-French inquisition, I believe you have someone at the door to tend to first.”

I nodded curtly and made my way over to the door. Had I really lost track of the days so much so that I hadn’t realized it was my first day with the new intern? Apparently, but that’s not the point. I prepared myself for the over-zealous discount pantsuit wearing, university student that I was expecting on the other side of the door. All of the interns in the company were the same like that.

I opened the door and my mouth slacked a bit. Apparently, I had been assigned the one intern who decided to break the mold. Carlee was average height, but with the three inch heeled, knee-high boots, she rivaled my own height. Her blonde hair fell to her cheekbones in very sloppy waves, which framed her smoky black-rimmed eyes well. She had painted a red stain over her lips and wore a pile of thin gold necklaces of varying lengths over her dark grey tank top, black leather jacket and dark wash jeans.

She looked like one of the witches I saw frequently on the cover of witch weekly, or within its pages and splattered throughout the society columns. In fact, I’m pretty sure she was one of those witches. I self-consciously fumbled with my messy hair as I tried to place the girl on my doorstep quickly.

“Yes, I am.” She muttered, tucking the large sunglasses she had in her hand in to her blonde hair.

“Huh?” I asked in a slight daze, my mind still trying to work on no sleep and less coffee.

“I am the girl from all of the broomstick and school robe ads. I modeled for a living until about 3 months ago. That’s where you’ve seen me, and yes, I will wait for you to finish getting ready.

I recognized the faint rumble of the dryer as I looked down at my own outfit. Only slightly mortified by my halfhearted attempt from that morning, I motioned for Carlee to come in while I excused myself to get ready. I prayed Oliver found the black robe he had left behind when he moved out and that he wasn’t wandering around in a towel.

All total, it took my ten minutes to make myself presentable. Eight of those were spent detangling my hair. A button down shirt, tuxedo trousers and a pair of pearls need to be part of every girls wardrobe because you look put together when really, you just snatched a few things from your closet.

All total, it took ten minutes for Carlee to get comfortable enough to be seated shoulder to shoulder with Oliver, her hand on his knee(thankfully he’d found the robe,) and her head thrown back laughing at something he had said that probably wasn’t even that funny. Oh yay, just what I was hoping for when I asked for an intern. I need to stop thinking things are going to go smoothly when new people are introduced in to my life. I needed to get Ellie over here and get down to work before Carlee could get some “work” done herself.

My first assignment for Carlee? She needed to go fetch Ellie for me naturally. I mean, it is her job. Also, I had her pick up muffins on her way back. Obviously, I needed to get her status ironed out and clear from the get go.

She looked a little stunned at being ordered around so quickly, but after the initial shock, she shrugged and picked up the slip of paper that had Ellie’s address chicken scratched across it. She left. But not before sending a flirtatious wink in Oliver’s direction.

Next up, Oliver. I looked over to see a stupid grin painted on to her face.

“No.” I stated plainly and firmly.

“What?” He asked, attempting innocence.

“No canoodling with the interns.”

“Number one: canoodling?” he said, raising an eyebrow questioningly, “Number two: What about the boss?”

“Huh?”

“How long will it take to get Ellie over here.”

“Well, considering she’s probably still asleep…at least thirty minutes.”

Oliver’s smirk returned, he stood, pacing over to me quickly, and reached behind me to push my bedroom door open.

“Good. Go” He growled, pushing me in to the room as he discarded his robe.






A/N: Sorry this took so long! I really, really am! Please forgive me :) Writing a whole novel in a month and then beginning the editing process took a ton out of me. But I'm back and you will get regular updates from here on out. Pinky Promise!

Please review and let me know if you would like my to add some chapter images with pics of the various characters! I have Ady, Ellie and even Carlee images that I can use if you want them! 


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