Author's Note: Whoops. It's been so long since an update. Does anyone even follow this story anymore?

Chapter Eight

WILL:

In all frankness, I was utterly confused by the conundrum that was named Louisa Clark. The rest of the work week required me to stay until early evening at the office. This prevented me to arrive before the closing of the café at the castle.

Such a situation wouldn't have normally bothered me so, but a feeling I couldn't identify kept gnawing at me. This sensation was easy enough to suppress during business hours which was filled with meetings and papers. It was during the evenings that it appeared without fail. And the sensation seemed to worsen over time until it was Friday. Friday evenings usually meant the beginning of freedom – which ended all too shortly by Sunday.

This particular Friday I found myself staring at spreadsheets. Bains had asked someone to, as he put it in his eloquent Yankee manner "step up the plate" and comb through the numerical analysis in order to verify the data.

Spending the beginning of the weekend by bringing my work back home wasn't enough to make me go sour. True, it wasn't ideal but it was important that these spreadsheets were correct before they were presented to the client. And better yet, it gave me the opportunity to show that I was a team player.

The issue at hand however, was my inability to focus. My mind kept drifting to someone in all her eccentric glory and clothing.

"Brother."

That brought me out of my reverie. I glanced up from my laptop's screen to see Georgina leaning against the kitchen counter across from me. Had I been so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear her knock or the door open? I pushed the thought away and focused on the recent addition to the space.

Georgina had come home only a couple of days ago to visit. The main purpose of her visit was not to visit my parents, but to attend a bachelorette party of one of her friends from university. It was my mother who had applied the pressure on Georgina to at least stay at the house during whatever festivities she would take part in.

"Georgie," I said in response as my way of greeting her. I pretended not to notice how she pursed her lips ever so slightly. She hated when I called her that.

"Mummy has really turned this place into something," she commented, sauntering around the apartment – her eyes roving as she took in the interior design. She then pivoted her attention back to me momentarily, "Hard to imagine it used to be the stables."

She directed a smile at me but I could sense the slight biting tone in her comments. In truth, my mother had done an excellent job at transforming what used to be the stables to a living space in which I currently occupied. It had been a pet project of my mother's – and Alicia's too for that matter. It was a way for them to bond. A shared activity. They both had a talent of taking something – anything really – and making it beautiful.

I was aware that Georgina's tone wasn't targeted at our mother or Alicia. It was, rather, intended for me. The reason? Because in her eyes, I was the favorite of the family. It only made sense that the favorite child would be allowed – no, even warmly encouraged – to stay on the premises. Georgina on the other hand had left town (the country actually, as she currently resided in Australia) as soon as she had graduated from university. I didn't really mind what Georgina thought of me. It was the animosity that she held towards me that annoyed me more than it made me uncomfortable.

Seeing that she made no effort to continue the conversation, I returned my attention back to the glowing screen in front of me. I was determined to get this task done as soon as possible in order to not only impress Bains with my efficiency, but to also have time to enjoy the weekend.

Out of my peripheral vision I saw she didn't seem affected by my actions. She wanted something. Attention maybe. I decided to play along.

"When is the bachelorette party with your friends?" I asked, not really caring about the answer.

Bingo. I saw her facial expression brighten. As if my half-hearted question gave her confidence, she strode into further into the living space. I heard her flop onto one of the leather couches in the living room area. I had no choice but to follow her if I wanted to play along. And the sooner I did that, the sooner I would be able to return to my work.

"Tomorrow," she said, taking one of the throw pillows and studying the design intently. I remember Alicia had proudly said that the pattern was imported from some couture house in France. I couldn't have cared less by the fact, but I remembered how Alicia's eyes had sparkled when she shared the decision of each object in the apartment.

I could see Georgina was playing it casual, as if she didn't want to draw too much attention to her life's ongoings. But I knew better.

In a strange turn of events, she looked up at me and frowned as if she was truly noticing me for the first time, "You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks," I replied in a biting tone even though a smile graced my lips.

That earned me a throw pillow to the head. Georgie slouched down on the couch, meaning that she had no inspiration to leave anytime soon. I internally sighed.

"I'm just telling you the truth," she grumbled as she crossed her arms. She reminded me of some stereotypical petulant four year old.

I decided to ignore that comment and instead gazed around the room, taking in how orderly it was. I silently prayed she wouldn't mess the organized DVD collection that donned some of the shelves. She had a tendency to be a kind of hurricane, leaving a mess in her wake whether that was in the kitchen whenever she tried to bake or in the family's small library.

"Mummy told me you went to the races this past weekend. Says you been in a sour mood ever since you got back," my sister carried on unaffected by my lack of response.

Another throw pillow to the head.

"How much money did you exactly lose, Will?" She demanded.

This earned me to throw her a genuine look of surprise, "What?" My mind was whirling because I certainly had no indication where such a question would come from. Did our mother put her up to this? To inquire about my financial losses? I pushed the thought away. It shouldn't matter. It wasn't our parents' money anyway. It was my own hard earned money that I had spent. How did it affect our parents? And better yet, why would it affect Georgina?

"You must have lost a lot if you're in such a state," she said, arching one of her perfectly waxed and plucked eyebrows at me.

It clicked. I shook my head, laughing humorlessly, "You think I'm upset over losing some money on a racehorse?" I didn't tell her that all I had lost was £20.

If only Georgina knew the actual truth. That I was actually upset because –

"If not about the money, then what?" She asked. She wasn't letting up.

I felt the beginnings of a headache starting to form. "It's none of your business," I muttered under my breath before returning back to the kitchen to take an Advil.

I heard her spring from the couch and her footsteps hammering against the hardwood floor as she followed me, "Will, I'm not letting you go that easily. Mummy wants to know why you've been such a recluse since the weekend. You haven't seen them or visited the main house."

"What can I say?" I asked dryly as I grabbed a small glass from one of the many cream painted cabinets that donned the walls, "I'm a workaholic at the office."

My response seemed to have shut her up for a couple of moments, giving me ample time to get some water and locate the medicine bottle.

"I've only seen you this touchy two times," Georgina mused aloud as she leaned against the kitchen island. Well, let her guess. It's not like she would actually say, "It's because Louisa Clark has been avoiding you all week ever since you played that prank on her at the racetrack."

I felt her eyes bore a hole into me, and I ignored the sensation by sipping water.

"You've only behaved this way when a business merger has gone awry or when you and Alicia split."

Uh oh.

I could see the lightbulb go off in her head. Her eyes brightened as she pointed one of her perfectly manicured fingers at me, "Is this about a girl?"

"No." I said in an impassive tone, hoping that would be enough for her to get the message and leave me alone.

"It is!" She said, almost squealing, "Big brother is acting this way because of a girl. I'm such an idiot. That should have been my first guess. Here you are sulking – spending late nights at the office, refusing to come up the main house all because of a girl." She laughed. Actually laughed at the potential misfortune I was experiencing.

"Shouldn't you be leaving, Georgina?" I asked, tired of all the accusations she was flinging at me.

She narrowed her eyes in response. Putting her hands on her hips she then asked, "How did you screw it up?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, wishing that this conversation was well over. I sat the glass down into the sink, leaned against a nearby counter and crossed my arms. If Georgina was accusing me of multiple crimes, then I could at least defend myself.

She huffed and rolled her eyes, "You must have screwed it up somehow. You aren't really known for your romantic behavior."

I clutched at my heart, replying sarcastically, "You hurt me, dear sister."

She hrmphed before edging towards the entrance way of my apartment. I watched her in silent relief, happy that she was finally leaving and going to bother someone else. She opened her mouth to say more, "You should be serious, Will." She then paused, adopting a kinder tone, "I've known you my entire life. I know you and your tendency to let your pride get in the way of potential happiness."

"Thanks for your words of wisdom," I said as I turned my attention back to the kitchen sink. I knew I said it harsher than I meant it to be, but I couldn't help it. I stared down at my hands which were clutching the edge of the sink. My knuckles were white from the pressure I was exerting.

"Whatever, Will. Let your attitude prevent you from solving whatever issue is bogging you down. I don't care." A pause as I heard the door open, and then: "But just remember. An apology can go a long way." Another small pause. "Not that you even know what an apology is."

And with that Georgina left, shutting the door with a crisp click behind her. I found myself focusing on the crunch of the gravel beneath her feet, and how the noise slowly faded into the night.

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