A screeching piece of classical music was echoing in the background and folks and spoons made annoying clang sounds according to Evelyn. The tension on the table was so thick it could be sliced with a knife.
Oliver elegantly sliced his stake and enjoyed his dinner, along with Evelyn's hateful expression.
Evelyn cleared her throat, "can we move on to doing something productive now?" She asked with a tone lacing with boredom.
Oliver doesn't look up from his plate but instead continues enjoying his meal. Maybe the right word would be; pretending to enjoy his meal. He couldn't remember the last time he had dinner with someone at the table. He was so used to being lonely, that somehow it filled his spirit, and his demons hushed because they feared silence.
"You're not permitted to speak during dinner under my roof," Oliver said, raising his hazel gazes to meet her furious ones. He yet again enjoyed it.
Evelyn clenched her first under the table without a word. She had to watch Oliver eat up which was very annoying. He ate rich but so little, to which she didn't give a damn.
After their dinner, they strode into his study, which was massive with tall bookshelves containing thousands of books arranged in alphabetic, and colors.
Oliver took his position as the king in his house leaving Evelyn a worthy seat but not as beautiful as his. Immediately she sat on it and she jumped back up, being stimulated by the squeaking.
"What the..." She started.
"Can we get over it?" Oliver seemed to ignore the squeaking and instead picked a marker. He walked to the giant whiteboard while taking the cover of the marker off then he proceeded to write the title in bold.
"I've studied this so many times, psychology of all types. Over and over again." He ranted to himself but Evelyn heard.
She felt challenged by his rants which she mistook for boosting.
Soon they got to work where an argument surged between them which ended with Oliver proving his points with one of the books in his luxurious library. He opened the exact chapter, page, and paragraph. Which made Evelyn doubt the reason he invited her to study was it to humiliate her?
Her study with Oliver was a nightmare: mosquitoes stun her bare feet and arms. While Oliver wore luxurious pants and long sleeves, and just like he had planned it he smelt like a cologne that she could have sworn had to do with keeping mosquitoes away.
After a while, she couldn't take it anymore. Evelyn rose from the squeaking chair which left her a little silence to think as she balled her fists. "You should probably do something about the mosquitoes don't you think?" She asked with a giant fake grin.
"What mosquitoes? All I know for sure is the fact that you feel and do weird stuff like hitting and itching yourself repeatedly." Oliver said.
Evelyn's left eye twitched with anger, "Mr. Money bag. I'll demand that we move to another study or leave this place then." She stated peacefully.
"This is my house, my rules, my choice. We are studying here. We still have one more hour to go." He said in his polite British accent.
Evelyn was overly irritated. She packed her stuff, grabbed her bags, and started stomping towards the door.
"Hold on, Miss Denim." He called out. She turned around furiously just to be met with his alluring smirk that smelt and screamed evil.
"If you leave this place, you accept that you left the work for me to do, so you're taking a back seat on this project. I'll report it to the university office first thing tomorrow and you would be definitely pulled out of this project cause I won't collaborate with a lazy and dull-brained partner."
Evelyn glared so hard at him that her eyes almost came off. "Fuck you!" She resumed her stomp off.
Oliver watched her leave and chuckled in amusement. Her boyfriend must be a vagabond, who on earth would look at her and feel any kind of love? She is ugly as a toad ass. Who carried uncivilized afro hair around, all day with denim every day? If not Evelyn's ugly-glass-face who?
He rolled his eyes, "the world needs some touch of knowledge."
As he got ready to resume her part of the work undone, Tim walked in.
"I told you I was studying and didn't need you to come in till I said so." He said without looking up from his work.
"You pissed your partner off?" Tim pulled a seat and sat beside him. "I know love is a roller coaster." He laughed.
Oliver rolled his eyes, it was his father's if Tim felt like he was his master or something. "What have you come to bring me?"
"I just called in your butler sent by your father," Tim announced.
Oliver rolled his eyes but nodded, "I'll brush off the fact that I asked you personally to get one." He stood up and started for the door as Tim followed.
On getting to the living room his heart skipped a beat and his jaw dropped.
"What in bloody Mary's name is this?" He asked in a hushed tone that online Tim heard.
"Your father's choice," Tim smirked.
Oliver turned around furiously dialing his father's number. As he walked into the hall. He pinched the bridge of his nose to keep his anger together.
"Father," he said.
"Oliver son, what brings about your call, has the contract been finalized."
He paused a bit, taken by the question, "it is yet to."
"Now that's lazy talk, get to work instead of wasting your time on the phone." The man scolded lightly.
"I was calling to inform you, that I won't accept a female butler." He said.
His father chuckled on the other line, "she would take care of you, while we wait for you to get engaged and married which is in three to four years' time."
Oliver tried to ignore how his father had scheduled his life and maybe also the person he would be marrying. That is if he lives long enough.
"What do you mean father? I don't appreciate female butlers. I'm going to send her off."
"You won't do that son, not in this life. I know what's best for you, and I trust Mrs. Elizabeth Clare to handle you just right."
"Father-"
"That's enough argument with me, young man, American must have something to do with your grown wings."
Oliver rolled his eyes. "My apologies for sounding disrespectful." He said.
"Very well, you should focus on business and school, don't worry about the others. I know what's best for you." His father said.
"Thank you, father," Oliver replied and waited for the man to hang his call.
He scoffed sadly, "you don't." He muttered before walking towards his room as he dialed Tim's number.
"Let her in." He said before hanging up. Oliver walked straight to his bed filling a cup through the jug and reaching for the pills in his pocket the poured a considerable amount before swallowing.
If he would reincarnate he would gladly refuse, what's the difference between a roasted cage and a golden cage? Color.
Would he ever ride a bike or go to a blasting party, ride a roller coaster, or even play hide and seek with anyone before he leaves earth for good? At least Esther didn't. Esther Shana Brookes, the kindest woman in the world left without tasting the pleasant colors of life. And he is next.