Always on the Run

8. Penelope

Hi guys! Well I'm feeling very proud right now. Another update in less than a week. Happy reading. You know the drill. :-) thanks for all your support.

***

The next morning I'm woken by the smell of bacon. Isn't that the best smell ever? I haven't experienced that since-

Cursing, I jump out of bed. The sudden movement makes my head spin but I have no time to worry about this. What's the time? Am I late? Did I oversleep? Oh god Julian is going to freak! I have a five minute shower then run around the room like a headless chook as I find something suitable to wear. Once I'm changed, I grab my phone and check the time.

Oh god. It's after nine in the morning. I suddenly feel sick to the stomach as I envisage Julian's wrath. Why didn't he wake me? Even though he's been difficult to live with this past week, last night was the first time I saw him so angry and now the image terrifies me. I don't want to go out there. My stomach knots and churns and my heat pounds rapidly in my chest.

Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves then open them again and stare at the door in determination. Stuffing my phone in my pocket I walk to the door and reach for the handle. Once I've grabbed it I stare at my hand and notice my knuckles have turned white from holding onto it tight. Get it together, Teresa. Don't let one man turn you into a blubbering mess. Stand up for yourself.

Nodding, I grip the handle and start to turn when I hear my name called. I stop and my breath catches in my throat. Did Julian just call me? It must be in my head. He should be angry...furious even. After all, I wasn't up at an ungodly hour again.

Just as I'm working up the nerve to go out again, I feel the handle turn under my touch then suddenly the door swings open. I stumble backwards and fall to the floor. I look up and blink in confusion when I see Julian looking down at me, his brow etched with worry. Is this a dream? This must be a dream. After last night...I shake my head. No it's definitely a dream.

"Are you okay?" Julian asks, walking into the room and crouching in front of me. "I didn't realise you were right there. I called out but I don't think you heard me." When he smiles, his eyes crinkle and I can't help but smile back. This is the Julian I like.

"What are you doing?" I blurt, confused by his sudden attentiveness.

He blinks a couple of times. "Making you breakfast," he says it as though it's the most logical thing in the world. He stands and holds out his hand. When I grab it I quickly realise this isn't a dream. This is really happening. He helps me to my feet and I stare at him in confusion. What the hell has brought this on?

"Why?" I ask, placing my hands on my hips. "Isn't it my job?"

His cheeks turn pink and he looks at the ground sheepishly. He shrugs then looks back up at me with a pleading expression. "I suppose it's a peace offering," he admits with another shrug. "I guess...it's my way of saying sorry," he adds, his face now turning to the colour of a ripe tomato.

I'm too flabbergasted to speak. Is he bipolar or something? I mean how can someone change overnight? What the hell is going on with this man?

"Sorry?" I manage to splutter. "Sorry? Is that all you can say?" I can feel all my unreleased tension and anger rising and there's no stopping me now. "When I arrived a week ago, you promised you would help me. You said we would work together. Now a week later you make me do everything and just expect me to 'prioritise my time better'."

He flinches and opens his mouth to speak but I interrupt him. "I'm not done yet, Julian. Now don't get me wrong, I understand running a farm is hard work, I really do but if you're going to say you'll help me, I expect help. I don't appreciate being lied to and I especially don't appreciate being treated like a member of staff. I'm not used to this lifestyle and you know that. You're just a chauvinistic, self-centred, egotistical, misogynistic male. I don't know what I ever saw in you."