Finding Olivia (Trace + Olivia), page 20
“It’s perfect,” I squeaked.
c h a p t e r
Nineteen
I knocked lightly on Avery’s closed bedroom door. I was supposed to be meeting Trace’s family today, but at the rate I was going, it would be the next century before I was ready. I had tried on everything in my suitcase and wasn’t happy with any of my clothes. I wanted to look nice, and make a good impression, but everything I owned fell flat.
“Come in,” Avery replied to my knock.
I pushed her door open, and found her lying on the floor of her room, flipping through a magazine, while the TV blared in the background.
“What’s up?” She asked, turning a page of the magazine.
“I’m supposed to be meeting Trace’s mom, brother, and grandparents,” I replied, nervously biting on my lower lip.
“Whoa, lover boy is bringing out the big guns. Grandparents, huh?” She smirked, sitting up.
“I know, right? I’m super nervous,” I admitted.
“I bet you are,” she looked at me sympathetically.
“I was hoping,” I kicked a spot on the floor, “that you would help me get ready. I can’t find anything to wear.”
Avery grinned. “Of course I’ll help you,” she hopped up from the floor, and opened her closet doors, motioning for me to follow her.
“Geez, Avery,” I remarked, looking around her spacious closet, “it looks like a mall in here.”
Everything was perfectly organized with shelves, drawers, and racks lining the space. It was exceptionally neat; nothing at all like her closet in our dorm room, which consistently looked like a bomb had went off.
“I have a lot of stuff,” she shrugged, rifling through one of the color coded racks of dresses.
“It’s very—uh—organized,” I mumbled.
Avery glanced at me and rolled her eyes. “My mom is a control freak and makes the maid keep it neat. If it was left up to me…” She drifted off with a small shrug of her shoulders.
“It would be a hot mess?” I supplied.
“Yeah, that about sums it up,” she smirked. “What do you think of this?” She held out a flowered print wrap dress.
“I think I’d be cold,” I muttered.
She sighed. “Do you want to make a good impression or not?”
“Of course I do,” I glared at her.
“Then you’ll wear the dress, with black tights—” she rummaged through the drawer, and pulled out a pair, “—and this blazer,” she added, pulling it off of its hanger.
I took the clothes from her and mumbled, “I don’t want to look too dressed up.”
“Trust me, Olivia. You want to make a good impression on them and a dress says that you’re a good girl,” she explained.
“As per usual,” I muttered, “your logic is whack.”
“You’ll be thanking me later,” she placed a hand on her hip. “And stop pouting, you’re the one that asked for my help.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m really-”
“Nervous,” she finished. “I know. Change into that and I’ll do your hair and makeup.”
My eyes widened.
“I promise not to make you look like hooker,” she flounced out of the closet. “I’ll keep the red lipstick far away.”
I sighed as she closed the closet door.
If I was this nervous now, what would I be like by the time Trace picked me up?
★★★
“I told you I wouldn’t make you look like a hooker.” Avery spun me around to face my reflection.
She had managed to keep my hair and makeup simple. My eyes were shadowed in different shades of light grays and my lips were slick with a pale pink gloss. She had added a light amount of blush and bronzer to my cheeks. My hair was pulled back in a messy, but stylish, side-bun.
“Avery, you’re a life-saver,” I breathed. “Thank you.”
“I try,” she smiled and did a little curtsy.
I turned away from my reflection and hugged her. “I seriously don’t know what I would do without you as my best friend.”
“You wouldn’t have nearly as much fun,” she laughed.
“That’s true,” I pulled away.
“What time is Trace supposed to get here?” She asked.
I picked up my cellphone, which I had placed on her bathroom counter, and read the time. “Any minute,” I groaned as my nerves shot through the roof and straight to outer space. “I’m going to go say goodbye to my mom.” I knew it was silly, but since we had escaped my dad…Aaron…I kept checking on her to make sure she was still here. I was afraid that she’d disappear.
Avery winced.
“What?” I questioned from the doorway of her bathroom.
“Your mom isn’t here,” she muttered quietly.
“What? Where did she go? Why isn’t she here?” I went into panic mode, assuming the worst, which was that Aaron had found her.
She eyed me sheepishly. “My brother took her to lunch.”
“What?!” I shrieked.
“Apparently my brother has the hots for your mom,” she giggled, but quickly sobered when she saw that I didn’t find it funny.
“Your brother’s like—” I quickly did the math. “—twenty-two. That’s disgusting.”
“I told ya Nick liked them older. Besides, your mom is really pretty,” she shrugged.
Even though we had only been here a week, my mom looked like a whole new person. Her eyes were bright and she smiled more. She had bought new clothes that weren’t so frumpy and she’d even gotten her hair cut and styled. She looked nothing like the woman I’d called mom in New Hampshire.
I shuddered. “My mom and your brother. I can’t even,” I shook my head rapidly back and forth.
Avery made a face like she had sucked on a sour grape. “That was not a pleasant visual I just got in my head.”
“Ew! Avery!” I shrieked.
She giggled. “Sorry, I’m a visual person.”
“Stop,” I covered my eyes, “please, stop. I can not be thinking about this right now.”
At that moment my phone beeped, saving me from the nasty seed Avery had planted in my head.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite saved.
I’m here. U ready?Trace asked.
I’ll be down in a minute.I texted back.
“Wish me luck,” I told Avery.
“You don’t need any,” Avery tsked. “They’ll love you. You’re every parent’s dream for their son. You’re pretty, smart, and nice,” she ticked each attribute off on her fingers.
“Thanks,” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to run out and leave you here-”
“It’s no big deal. I’m going to Luca’s,” she grinned.
“I should’ve known,” I sighed.
“You better get out of here,” she smacked my butt, “before Tracey-poo comes in here after you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you please stop calling him by that ridiculous name?” I asked, striding out of her room.
“Nope!” She called after me.
I sighed and grabbed my purse from the guestroom before making my way downstairs and out through the garage.
It was snowing again; a good inch already coated the ground. Growing up in New Hampshire I was used to heavy snows but people in this area flipped out if there was even a dusting of snow on the ground.
“Hey,” I smiled lightly, climbing into the car.
“You look nice,” he grinned. “Who are you trying to impress? It’s certainly not me,” he joked with a small chuckle.
I tugged on the end of the dress and buckled my seatbelt. “Hmm, who could I want to impress?”
“They’re going to love you,” he reached for my hand and gave it a small squeeze before letting go to back out of the driveway. “Don’t worry. I was nervous to meet your mom, and she liked me, right?”
“That’s because you’re extremely likable,” I groaned. “I’m the quiet shy girl that everybody overlooks because they think she’s standoffish. I don’t want your family to think I’m rude.”
“They would never think that,” Trace sighed, glancing both ways before turning out of the neighborhood.
“How do you know?” I sulked. My nerves were getting the best of me. I had never ever met a guy’s parents, because I had never dated before. This was completely new for me. I didn’t know what to do or what to say.
“Because, I know everything,” he winked.
I fanned my face. “It’s really hot in here.” I wiggled in my seat. “I think my butt’s on fire.”
Trace chuckled and pushed a button. “Sorry, the seat warmers are kinda hot.”
“How far away does your mom live?” I asked, chewing nervously on my fingernail.
Trace grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my mouth. “Not that far.”
“That’s vague,” I frowned.
“About fifteen to twenty minutes from here,” he shrugged.
“And your grandparents will be there too? Are they your mom’s parent’s or your dad’s?” I rattled.
“They’re my dad’s parents and they—uh—live with my mom and brother. Or my mom and brother live with them. Whichever way you prefer to look at it,” he ran a hand through his hair.
“Um-okay, because that’s not confusing at all,” I muttered.
He chuckled. “It used to be my grandparents’ house but they gave it to my dad. They continued to live there though.”
“Gotcha,” I mumbled, staring out the window at the snow falling.
We both grew quiet and I silently coached myself that everything would be okay, and I wouldn’t make a complete and total fool out of myself.
I never did well with meeting new people and I knew my anxiety would be ten times worse with meeting Trace’s family.
I chewed nervously on my bottom lip, and it began to bleed, but I didn’t care. It distracted me and that’s exactly what I wanted. I’d chew right through it if I had to.
We drove deep into a thickly wooded area with large houses every few acres or so.
Finally, Trace came to a plain black mailbox, and turned in the driveway, but I still couldn’t see the house. The forest surrounded us and I was afraid the craggily branches on the nearby trees would scratch the shiny black finish of the car.
The driveway, or maybe it was a road, went on forever. We still hadn’t come to an end five minutes later.
“Are you really taking me to your mom’s house or did you just drive me out here to murder me where no one can hear me scream?” I gulped.
Trace’s laughter filled the car. “You’re funny.”
Actually, I was being serious. We were in the middle of nowhere and the snow was coming down in thick white flakes that blanketed the ground like a fluffy blanket. At this rate, it would snow six or eight inches. In this area, that was rare, and akin to the zombie apocalypse.
But seriously, if Trace wanted to off me, all he’d have to do—
“Oh my God,” I gasped as the trees finally opened up.
High up on the peak of the hill, we were currently driving up to, was the biggest house—no, mansion—I had ever seen. Avery’s house was huge but could have easily fit inside this one twice.
It was huge…gymungo…gargantuan...imposing. And I was all out of words to describe it. It was all brick with tall windows. A high fence hid the backyard but I was sure there was a massive pool back there and whatever else rich people put in their yards.
My mouth was hanging open and I was pressed as close to the glass of the windshield as possible.
“This isn’t real,” I muttered.
I couldn’t get over the sheer size of the place. I had seen big houses before but never anything like this. It looked like something that should belong to a celebrity not a normal person.
“This is where you grew up?” I squeaked.
“Yeah,” Trace replied, chuckling at my reaction.
“People live here?” I gasped.
He snorted. “That’s typically what people do, you know, live in houses.”
“But it’s so big!” I exclaimed, squinting my eyes, as if that alone would make the mansion smaller.
Trace scratched the back of his head and muttered, “I know.”
“I thought you said your dad was a mechanic?” I accused.
“He was…but it wasn’t his job, just a hobby,” he parked the car in front of a four-car garage attached to the mansion. There was another four-car garage detached from the house with what looked like an apartment overhead.
“Who are you?” I glared at him. I felt like he had lied to me. I thought Trace was just a normal guy, with normal parents, a normal childhood, and this was anything but normal.
He ground his teeth together, and yanked the keys out of the ignition, fiddling with them. “I knew you would react like this and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
“This is a big thing to keep from me!” I pointed to the house. “You-you’re-ugh!”
“This,” he pointed to the mansion, “changes nothing, Olivia. I’m still me.”
“But—” I gasped, “—you were raised by Daddy Warbucks or something!” I exclaimed, still gaping open-mouthed.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how to explain this to you.”
“How about you use your words for starters!” I was getting angry now. I had been nervous enough to meet his family, toss in this, and I was close to having a heart attack. This was completely unexpected and it made me realize just how little I really did know about Trace. If he had kept this a secret, what else was he hiding?
He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “I come from old money-”
“That makes me feel so much better!” I snapped sarcastically, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Are you going to listen to what I have to say or not?” He waited for me to nod before continuing. “Like I said, I come from old money. It goes back several generations. I was never that interested in our family history so I don’t know how many Greats it might be. Anyway, Great-Granddaddy-Whatever made his fortune during World War I when he invented some new way to make bullets or some shit like that, and it made him a lot of money, and the business boomed from there.”
“This is insane,” I whispered.
“I am not this,” he pointed to the house. “I am me,” he shoved a finger into his chest, “and my family history does not define me. I can’t change where I come from, Olivia, and I wouldn’t want to,” he pulled at the ends of his hair. “I have a good, loving, family that is nothing like the uppity people you’re thinking of,” he growled. “They’re normal everyday people. Don’t you think I’m normal?” He pleaded.
I nodded.
He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to look at me differently because of this. I thought springing it on you would be the best route,” he rubbed his chin, “but I can see now I was wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” I placed a hand on his cheek and forced him to look at me. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It upset me because I feel like I’ve shared so much with you, and if you didn’t tell me about this, what else are you not telling me.”
“Fair enough,” he whispered. “But please go inside and don’t freak out. I know it’s a big house and it seems overwhelming, but my family is perfectly normal, in fact,” he grinned, “we might be a little bit redneck.”
“I doubt that,” I rolled my eyes and a small laugh escaped my lips.
“You’d be surprised,” he grinned. “We better get in there before they come out to see what’s taking us so long.”
“You’re right,” I looked at the time on my phone and saw that we had been talking for ten minutes.
“Oh, and Olivia?” He asked, leaning towards me.
“Yeah?” I replied feeling a little sick knowing I was about to meet the Rockefeller’s of Virginia.
“I’ve thought of something that might distract you from your nerves,” his voice had grown husky and his eyes were a dark forest green.
“What?” I squeaked.
“This,” he murmured, and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling my lips against his. He kissed me thoroughly, leaving me flustered when he pulled away.
“Was that sufficient?” His lips turned up in a lopsided grin.
“What?” I muttered.
“Yep, it worked,” he hopped out of the car and jogged around to open the passenger door.
I stepped onto the driveway, my feet sinking through three inches of snow, and the little white fluff balls quickly gathered in my hair and on my shoulders.
Trace looked up, sticking out his tongue to catch a flake. I watched one fall onto his eyelash where it immediately melted and he wiped it away.
Once he was successful in catching a snowflake, he grinned at me impishly, like a small boy.
“I had to,” he chuckled and held out his hand for me to take.
We hesitantly made our way to the garage, cautious of the slippery ground. Trace flipped open a panel, and entered a code, a second later, one of the garage doors began to raise.
I took a deep breath, tempted to beg him to kiss me again. My heart had plummeted to my stomach and my stomach had dropped entirely out of my body and was currently flopping around on the ground.
“Breathe,” Trace reminded me.
I let out a gust of air.
“Breathe,” he repeated as he twisted the knob on the door and leaned over to push a button that closed the garage door.
With a firm grip on my hand, he led me into the house.
It didn’t take long for me to get confused. The house was massive. We passed by so many open and closed doors that I quickly lost count.
The wide hallway opened up and we stood in a large foyer with the highest ceiling I had ever seen and a shiny marble floor. I turned around, taking in the two massive staircases, and tilted my head back to gaze at a chandelier that was bigger than my car.
“Wow,” I gasped in awe. “Are you sure we’re still in Virginia?”
“I’m sure,” he chuckled.
“This place belongs in Beverly Hills,” I murmured, turning around to face the massive front door. “I’ve never seen a house like this before…only on TV and in magazines.” My mouth was open in awe.
“It’s alright,” he shrugged with a laugh.
