The Devil's Dimples

Biscetti Carbonara

"John's whore house. You got the dough we got the hoe."

"Olivia. Are you kidding me?"

"Oh sorry. Nashville's Sperm bank. You squeeze it we freeze it how may I help you?"

"Olivi-"

"Henderson's Morgue. You stab 'em we slab 'em this is Eightball speaking."

Jesus Christ that girl spends more time on social media than I bet she will in heaven. I love her but she's going to hell.

"Can you calm down. I need you to come over. It's an emergency."

"A real emergency or a Lilah emergency?" She questions.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"A Lilah emergency; something that is far from a serious emergency but it gets so wrapped up in Lilah's little head that she insists it is one." She rehearst.

Wow. Thanks. I shake it off and carry on without protesting.

"I need to cook a meal for nine and you know how I am with spaghetti. Or any type of food."

"Oh God who the hell put you in charge of all things edible? I'm on my way." And she hangs up. I slump back in my chair and release a huge sigh of relif.

וווווווו×

"Lilah... What the fuck am I looking at?" Olivia peers down at my dish. "I told you to wait for me to get here! I'm sorry but I think we are gonna have to start over."

"It's bolognaise. And I agree." And so in to the bin went my hard work. "We only have twenty five minutes until the guests show. It doesn't have to be too fancy." I inform.

Olivia nods, ties up her hair and strolled towards the sink to wash her hands. "Okay so let me ask again, because I'm a little lost. How did you manage to be in charge of a dinner for nine when you can't even hold a knife?"

So I tell her. And I guess I'll tell you. My darling mother has been unemployed for a little over a year now. We have been surviving on Grandma's money. She's not dead, my mother just thinks that every freaking person in the world owes her. Anyhoo, poor Grandma has been almost spent out so it really is time for mother dearest to pull her act together. Aunt Gen arranged a gathering of a few bosses to come around to our house and judge my mother from top to bottom in hope they might hire her. Aaron got out of it, the lucky fucklet, and somehow I have landed smack bam in the middle with cooking duty when I can't make a flapjack to save my life. Mother logic.

"So you're just about a full on slave now?" She scoffs. It certainly feels like it.

As she gets started with the sauce I am totally going to take credit for, I sneak out to the living room and dive into the couch, popping in my ear phones. Ozzy jumps up onto my lap and sits on my face. Silly dog. He's so cute though. But he has to be careful. He's not supposed to be on the couch because of the hairs. If he leaves too many, mother is bound to find out soon. Yup, she doesn't know. She hates pets but I saw this little guy abandoned on his own last winter. In a FedEx box, not that that matters but I couldn't leave him.

"Hey, Liv?" I call, after a long binge on my phone. You know how it is. "Can you make me a sandwich?" I know. It's a cheap shot but I'm STARVING. I can't wait until dinner and all I have eaten today was a little pot of raisens. I hate raisens. Bleugh. Okay so my mind's drifting a bit. "Liv?" I call again, pulling out a single ear bud. I'm met with a stony silence.

Is this some kind of un-deserved silent treatment? But I don't want to get up. Ah well fine I need the excercise.

I set Ozzy down in his bed and dance my way to the kitchen. If I'm going to have to move, I'm gonna do it in style. Not that I can dance for my lif-

My heart drops. And when I say drops I mean I'm pretty sure I felt every single organ in my body just forget gravity still exists and think 'nope' and drop to the ground.

Ladies and gentlemen, standing right in front of me, I give you the one and only; Benjamin Williamson.

"HOW THE FRICK FRACFRACK DIDDLE WACK PACK DID YOU GET INTO MY HOUSE?" I yell and yes, I admit it might have been a little over the top but he's practically a stranger.

"Hey, hey, hey" he puts his hands up in surrender and backs away. "Why the hell are you here?" He asks.

What. Who does this man. Who the hell does this man think he is.

"I'm here for a meal?" He looks around, "my dad's in the other room. He's looking to interview some pitied old lady. I'm just here for the free food."

Well. This man-this man-has the nerve to come in to my house and call my beloved mother a 'pitied old lady'? I mean how rude.

But he's right. Apart from the pitied bit. I hate her.

"Oh, LILAH? YOU HAVE GUESTS. I LET THEM IN." Olivia shouts down from upstairs.

"Yeah, NO SHIT" I retort. He smirks.

"Lilah! Would you please refrain from such language?" Mother gasps. Great, just as expected. Her fake maternal act is in action. "We have guests."

So?.... Picking up the story line a bit. Do you like Olivia? She's a bit of a loud character I guess. If you know what I mean. Excuse the late update :/ bit of a writers block :P

Please vote and comment it really helps me out :-) oh and add this story to your library if you like it so far! New update every week