The End of the Littlest One [Completed]

23. Not a question about flannel

It took more than five minutes to finish putting all the books back. It took her way longer than Olivia expected, and since she didn't want to have Sheppard waiting, she decided not to clean the library. Maybe she'd have time tomorrow to procrastinate it again.

When she walked out of the library, she felt tired. To be honest, she'd been tired the entire evening. But at that moment, it really kicked in. The muscles in her legs hurt, and her head felt heavy. It took a considerable amount of effort to keep her eyes open.

She turned right at the door, towards the kitchen.

Just a little more she thought. Just a little longer, and I'll be in my warm bed. No people around me. Just me, warmth, darkness, and silence.

She couldn't wait.

Walking through the hallway, she spotted a man. He was leaning against the wall, his eyes focused on the floor. Olivia didn't recognize him. The shadow of his hat covered his face, leaving only the area beneath his nose visible.

'Good evening, sir,' Olivia greeted.

'Hello,' he said, without looking up.

Olivia felt a little uncomfortable walking up to him. She had to get to the kitchen, tough. Besides, he couldn't be dangerous. Why would he be? Even if he was, the inn was filled with people. Her screams would be heard.

'Can I help you with anything?' Olivia asked.

'I'm fine.'

Silence.

'Are you okay, sir?' Olivia asked.

The man sighed.

'I said I was fine,' he said.

Out of annoyance, the man raised his head. He made eye contact Olivia to put emphasis on the fine part. The rest of his face was now observable.

Chills ran over Olivia's spine when she observed him. A scar by his left ear. It told her enough. She wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

'Alright. I'm sorry I bothered you,' Olivia said.

The man didn't respond. Instead, he bowed his head down again.

Olivia took her chance and walked away. She continued her way to the kitchen further down the hall. The walk gave her heart the time it needed to calm down. When she pushed open the door, a clean kitchen greeted her. Was she not asked to help clean?

I suppose Sheppard didn't specify as to why I needed to come to the kitchen she thought.

'Sheppard?' Olivia said.

'Over here!'

A familiar male voice came from the door at the back of the kitchen, leading to the scullery. After a couple of seconds, Sheppard came out. He wiped his hands clean with an old piece of cloth and smiled at Olivia. He looked cheerful and awake. The bags under his eyes told a different story, though.

'Have a seat,' he said.

'The kitchen got cleaned up quick,' Olivia remarked.

She sat down on the nearest chair. Sheppard did the same. He found a chair, moved the box on it to a table, and moved his chair closer to Olivia.

'Yeah, we got it done pretty fast.'

'I thought I was asked here to help clean,' Olivia laughed. 'Luckily not.'

Sheppard laughed at her remark.

'I didn't ask you to help clean,' he said.

'Good.'

Sheppard gave Olivia a look.

'I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that,' Sheppard said. 'Instead, I wanted to ask you something.'

'What is it?'

Olivia was intrigued. This could go anywhere.

The last time he wanted to ask her something, he asked if she could work even more than she already did. The time before that, he asked her opinion about a new flannel he got.

This was a sit-down-question, though. That meant it probably wasn't about a new flannel.

'Pretty close to here lives a wealthy family,' he started.

He looked at her, expecting a response. Olivia wasn't sure what to say, since he didn't ask anything yet.

'Okay,' she said. 'Thank you for sharing. Was that all?'

'No,' Sheppard laughed. 'I hoped you would guess, but I can just tell you. Have you heard of the Laurier family?'

Who hasn't? Olivia thought. They're one of the richest families in the area.

'I have,' Olivia nodded. 'What about them?'

'They're having a dinner soon with friends over theirs and were wondering if our inn could be part of the catering.'

'That's great. Did they tell you why? Their family has been around for a long time, and so has the inn. For as far as I can remember, they've never asked us to cater one of their dinners.'

'My thoughts exactly,' Sheppard said. 'So, I asked them that.'

'And?'

'Apparently one of their guests has been here before and asked them to have us make some of our more popular dishes.'

'One of their fancy guests has been here before?'

'I didn't notice either,' he chuckled. 'Either way, we made a good impression. That's what counts.'

I bet 'the guest' was Nicole. It seems like something she would do. Olivia smiled to herself. Nicole is such a good friend. She made a mental note to thank her next time she wrote to Nicole.

'Nice,' Olivia said. 'This is quite the milestone for the inn, right?'

'It is. This also leads me to my question to you.'

'Didn't you already ask a question?' Olivia teased. 'I think I'm done here.'

'Very funny, Liv. I have one more question for you.'

'Go ahead.'

'I was wondering if you could help me with the preparations as well as help on the actual night of the dinner.'

Olivia didn't need to think much about it. This would not only give her an opportunity to see Nicole again. She'd also be able to see the Laurier mansion. She'd never seen it but heard incredible stories from Nicole as well as inn guests.

It is said to be huger than huge. The bright white walls supposedly contrasted with the black, glossy roof. The garden surrounded the house on all sides. The woods beyond the gardens belonged to the Laurier family as well. People have described it as a fairytale castle. The house of anyone's dreams. Detour worthy.

'Sure,' Olivia said. 'I'd love to help.'

'Yeah?' Sheppard asked. 'You don't need time to think about it or anything? I'm afraid it'll be quite the time investment. Plus, you have your regular work.'

'I don't need more time think, I'd love to do it,' Olivia said. 'I'm sure you'll keep my regular workload low, right?'

She lifted one of her eyebrows and looked at the man in front of her. Sheppard, in his turn, seemed to hesitate to answer.

'As much as possible,' he eventually said. 'No promises, though.'