Page 103 of Dr. Damaged Protector

I hadn't plan to live with anyone, so my house was actually just a three-bedroom duplex. It had a little garden in front and a swimming pool for aesthetic reasons. I wasn't the type to buy a lot of cars, but my garage could hold at least five if the need arose.

After three months of living at the manor, my own place looked quite small. It was perfect for me, but I was worried about what she would think.

“I'm sorry it's not as big as my father's,” I apologized. “I built it because I didn't expect anyone moving in with me.”

“The way you sound makes me feel like you didn't plan on getting married, either” Olivia said as she looked at the building. “But to be honest, I prefer your house. Your father's was too big. And please tell me there aren't any maids here.”

It felt like she was comparing dick sizes and saying something like ‘yours is perfect because the big ones hurt.’

“I would have loved Sebastian to come work for me,” I said, “but I won't be home a lot because of my job. I plan to hire a cook and a cleaning service.”

“Make that only a cleaning service,” she said. “I'll handle the cooking. That would help reduce my tab, won't it?”

“Now I don't feel like making you do it,” I replied.

“You're one hell of a boss,” she said and pinched my elbow. “Won't you show me inside?”

“Sure,” I replied and let her into the house.

The renovators had done a wonderful job with the place, changing most of the colors from gray to warmer hues.

“You said it's three bedrooms, right?” she asked. “Does that mean I will sleep in a different room from yours?”

“I don't think I want that,” I replied immediately.

“And why is that?” An impish smile formed on her face.

This was it...the moment I needed to tell her how I felt.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

“We are talking,” she replied. she took a step closer to me, placing her head against my chest and looking up.

“No, it's…” I struggled to explain. “There’s something I've been meaning to tell you.”

“You're writing off my debt?” she mocked.

“In your dreams,” I replied. “But no, not that.”

“In that case, I have something to tell you too,” she said. “Since you brought it up, you go first.”

“Okay I…”

“Hold it right there,” she said as she placed her finger on my lips. “I have a feeling that this is going to be a long talk, so why don't we get seated and get a glass of wine?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” I agreed.

****

The drink helped to calm my nerves. I couldn't remember the last time I'd opened my heart to someone. I was careful not to drink enough to get drunk. As for Olivia, she had barely touched her glass.

“You're not going to drink?” I asked.

“Well, your father made a statement that I should be careful with drinks,” she replied. “He said something about how dangerous it was to merely take a drink your mother had just poured. It would poison you.”

“I wish I could tell you he was wrong,” I said, “but I'm afraid that's not the case.”

“You're supposed to make me feel less worried,” she asserted and frowned. She took a sip, anyway.

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