Gold Digger

Ollie

“Hey, lovebug,” Lottie said, and I froze outside the bathroom. Lovebug? Who would Lottie call lovebug ? “That’s really great. I’m so proud of you. We’ll celebrate tonight, okay? We could go out?” She laughed softly. “Okay, okay, I’ll cook for you, sweetie. Whatever you want. Okay, I’ll see you later. I love you.”

I frowned and took a step back. Maybe there was a good explanation? She might have been talking to a friend. But, would you call a friend lovebug? Unwanted memories were struggling to surface. I’d been burned by secret phone calls and sneaking around before. I shook my head to clear it. Lottie wasn’t like that. If she had a boyfriend, she would have said. I just needed to ask her. I looked down at the flowers in my hand and winced. Making a split-second decision, I threw them into the empty laundry basket and shut the lid. Rubbing a hand down my face, I took a deep breath before pushing open the door to the bathroom.

“Hey,” I said, and Lottie shrieked, spinning around, with her hand on her chest.

“Ollie, you scared shi—take mushrooms out of me,” she said, giving her phone a nervous look where it sat on the counter before focusing back on me. I shoved my hands into my pockets to stop myself doing my usual of reaching for her to kiss her and nuzzle her neck hello. Lottie’s clumsiness wasn’t seeming quite so adorable at the moment. I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

“You still keen for tomorrow night?” I asked. After waiting almost two weeks after our bagels in the park, Lottie had finally agreed to a proper date. I wasn’t sure why she was putting me off, but after hearing that phone call, I was beginning to have my suspicions.

“Yes, of course,” she said. Her smile was like a punch in the gut, and I couldn’t bring myself to return it.

“Are you sure?”

Lottie’s smile dimmed, and she tilted her head to the side. Over the last two weeks, I’d been coming home for lunch with Lottie as often as I could, and I could feel her shields gradually coming down. I kept our interactions kitchen-based, not wanting to go further with her physically in case she thought I was just wanting to have a bit on the side with a member of staff. I did let myself kiss her, hold her hand, and put my hand on her lower back to lead her where I wanted her to go – all of which gave her a slightly dazed, almost reverent look on her face, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

The more time I spent with her, the deeper I fell for her. She had a bizarre way of sensing my mood – almost as if she could read me. I was talking to her about a housing project the other day, and she’d cut me off: “But you don’t want to invest in it,” she told me.

“What makes you say that?” I asked in complete surprise.

“I just know that you don’t,” she said simply. “If I had to guess, I’d say you don’t agree with their green space plan.”

I blinked. Yes, I had some reservations about the amount of green space planned for the project, which was about half what I considered to be sufficient.

“How on earth do you know that?”

She shrugged. “I’m good at reading people. Don’t invest in something that makes you unhappy.”

I was also feeding her up. Lottie was too bloody thin. When I wanted to give this woman diamonds, I was, in fact, providing smoked salmon bagels from James and takeout from the local Italian. It broke my heart a little bit yesterday when she asked if she could take the leftover lasagne home. Lottie shouldn’t be eating leftovers. But that was all going to be sorted soon. Lottie would be a full-time student once I got my way. And I always got my way. My girlfriend wasn’t going to be cleaning houses or eating leftovers or any of that shit. I just had to tread carefully with how I approached it. And maybe I needed to find out why she might be calling someone lovebug on the phone?

“Ollie, what’s the matter?” Lottie asked. Her brows drew together as she looked up at me, and I forced a smile. “Is this because I said I’m not coming to the gala dinner tonight? It would have been a bit public for a first date anyway, don’t you think?” She gave a nervous laugh, which I ignored.

“You’d tell me if you were involved with someone else, wouldn’t you?” I asked, hating the unsure quality in my voice. Her eyebrows went up.

“Involved with someone else? What are you talking about?” She laughed. “Ollie, I barely have the time to be involved with you. ”

I cleared my throat. “Who were you talking to just now?”

Her eyes were wary now, and her expression shuttered. My throat felt tight.

“Ollie, I told you, my life is… complicated. I…” she closed her eyes for a moment, then moved to me. After a brief hesitation, no doubt in response to my defensive posture, she put her small hands on my chest. “There’re lots of things you need to know, alright?” My arms moved of their own accord. Having her hands on me, her soft flowery scent around me and her beautiful face blinking up at me was impossible to resist. One of my hands went into her gorgeous soft, thick hair, the other splayed across her back, pulling her further into me. She smiled again, this time with relief, and my chest felt tight.

“Does this complicated have anything to do with why it’s taken over two weeks for you to have a free evening?” I tried to keep resentment out of my tone, but I was tired of waiting to be with her. She nodded.

“Yes.” She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them, they were full of determination. “Yes, and I should have told you already, but I was afraid that…”

I leaned down to rest my forehead against her. “What are you afraid of, darling?” I said softly. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, the shrill sound of the alarm on her phone cut through the atmosphere and broke the spell between us.

“Fudge nuggets,” she muttered, pulling away from me to silence her phone. “Ollie, I’ve got to go, but I promise, I promise to tell you everything tomorrow night. Then you can decide if you—” she paused for a moment to swallow. “If you still want to be with me.” Her voice broke on the last sentence, and I frowned in confusion. Had I not made it clear how desperately I wanted to be with her?This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

I crossed my arms over my chest as she gathered her stuff, in a real rush now. Maybe I should give her the flowers? But before I could retrieve them, she was already running for the door. I jogged after her and caught her hand to stop her, but she shook me off.

“I’ve got to go,” she said in a panic. “I can’t be late again. I’ll explain everything tomorrow night, okay?”

“Okay,” I said to the thin air she left behind.

I was grumpy for the rest of the day and even grumpier that I had to go to the gala dinner without Lottie. I mean, I’d told her last week that this evening was really important. She knew how much it meant to me, yet she’d still blown me off. So that was why when Arabella, who’s always wound me up, grabbed me in front of the photographers I thought, why not? Maybe a little jealousy would do Lottie some good. Nothing else seemed to be working. I must admit, the way Arabella burrowed into my side made me feel slightly uneasy. I was relatively quick to pull away, so the paps probably didn’t catch it. Still, I definitely regretted it once we were inside. The woman was like an octopus and clearly shitfaced before she even arrived. Her perfume made me feel a bit sick after about five minutes. Claire had to come to the rescue in the end.

“Why on earth are you letting Scary Airy put her paws all over you?” she asked once she’d told Arabella in no uncertain terms to bugger off.

I shuffled my feet and avoided eye contact. It seemed a bit petty now. “At least she wants to be here with me.”

Claire’s eyebrows went up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I wanted Lottie to come to this stupid shitshow, but she keeps blowing me off.”

“Ah.” Claire smiled. “You know what, baby bro? This is a good learning experience for you. Not everything can fall into your lap without effort. I’m beginning to really like Lottie. Anyone who can take you down a peg or two is okay in my book.”

I huffed. “I just can’t understand why she won’t make the time for me.”

“Have you considered that she may have some shit going on in her own life?”

“She works another job, Claire, but I know she’s not working tonight as that other job happens to be in a bar I own .”

“Just try to have a little patience,” Claire said.

“Well, Mum thinks?—”

“Oh my God, Ols, do not tell me that you spoke to Mum about this?”

“What’s wrong with talking to Mum?”

Well, I was about to find out.