“You seem to be short with me at times. Is there something I did wrong to you?” Durbin attempted to make eye contact with Olivia. He resorted to gazing at her shoulder.
Olivia grew warm with a hint of embarrassment. She relaxed her stance and dropped her hand from her hip. “Durbin. I’m sorry for not coming across as friendly. I have a lot going on in my life right now. You haven’t done anything wrong to me. I tend to release my stress out on other people.”
“I see. Life happens and people get caught up in their problems. I hope things ease up on you,” Durbin offered.
“I appreciate your understanding.” Olivia softened her voice. Having this conversation with Durbin seemed weird in her bedroom. She led the way to the living room and he followed.
“I’m glad it’s not me.” Durbin gave a smile. He cleared his throat. “Since it isn’t something I did, will you reconsider going out with me?”
His persistence irritated Olivia. She stopped short, turned to face him, and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Durbin, I’m flattered by your interest. I need time for myself. The answer is still no. Please don’t take it the wrong way.”
Durbin raised his glasses higher to the bridge of his nose. “It’s okay. I’m used to women turning me down a lot. I guess I still don’t know how to get dates.”
“Don’t think of it as a putdown.” Olivia hated the way he laid a guilt trip on her.
“I get it. I’ll go now. Um. Let me know if you have any more problems with the cameras. Bye.” Durbin darted out the front door. He jumped in his car and drove off in such a hurry, he ran across the curb with the front tires.
Olivia ran her fingers through her hair thinking about how she hadn’t struggled this hard to reject a date since before getting married.
TWENTY-NINE
Olivia
Grey’s Anatomy had gone off and Olivia fought to stay awake on the couch to catch the new show by Shonda Rhimes called Scandal. She had to find out what her namesake planned to do with her crisis management expertise. “Lord knows I should learn something from Olivia Pope.”
Olivia picked up her wine glass. Wearing cream-colored, Winnie the Pooh pajamas and Eeyore slippers, she padded to the kitchen to get a refill. The bottle of Pinot Noir had less than a quarter of wine left, which she emptied into her goblet.
A thump on the front side of the house caused her to jump. “What was that?” She stood still and gripped the wine glass in her hand. She tried to decipher the sound above the commercial playing on the television.
Olivia clicked off the light and eased to the window. She slid the edge of the curtain to the side as slow as possible before peeking out. The motion detector lights illuminated the area in front of the house. Nothing appeared out of place except for a tree swaying in the wind. She made a mental note to ask the lawn guy to trim it back.
She headed back to the kitchen to snatch a can of honey roasted almonds from the pantry and proceeded to the sofa.
Olivia laid on the couch with her head propped on the pillows. She placed the goblet on the coffee table and grabbed the remote to adjust the volume on the TV. A louder thump hit the picture window in the living room followed by a crashing sound of glass breaking.
Olivia screamed and jumped from the sofa as a projectile flew in her direction, smashing into the wine goblet on the table. The glass shattered and splattered crimson liquid across the floor, sofa, and Olivia’s pajamas.
“Oh, my God,” Olivia yelled. Glass crunched beneath her slippers when she ran to the kitchen to hide. A second flying object passed through the window and almost hit her as she dove beneath the table. Using her hands, she covered her head and rolled into a fetal position to protect herself.
Olivia heard the roar of a car screeching away from the front of the house. She continued to lay on the floor trembling, not knowing if anything else would fly into the window.
Pounding on the front door, followed by the persistent ringing of the doorbell startled her. She heard someone yelling, “Olivia. Olivia. Are you okay? Are you in there? It’s me, Dion.”
“Oh, my Lord, Dion.” Olivia scrambled from beneath the table and tiptoed across the glass-covered hard-wood floor of the living room. Weak with fear, she found it hard to move her legs.
She leaned against the door to peek through the peephole. A sigh passed through her quivering lips upon seeing her neighbor standing on her porch with his eyes widened with concern. Dion and Olivia had become fast friends when she moved in. He welcomed her into the neighborhood before anyone else.
Olivia threw open the door. “Dion,” she cried, “I’ve been attacked.”
He gripped her arms. “I know. I heard the glass breaking when I let Coco out to go to the bathroom. I ran over right away,” Dion exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I think I’m fine,” Olivia’s hands shook, which she folded beneath her arms to hold still. “I can’t stop shaking though.”
“I bet.” Dion crinkled his eyebrows and scanned his eyes across Olivia’s face. “You have a few specks of blood on your left cheek. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I do?” Olivia raised her fingers to her face. She drew her hand back and flinched. “Ouch. Some glass must’ve hit me.”
“It doesn’t appear to be serious,” Dion reassured. “It’s a good thing the pieces didn’t get in your eye.”
“Thank God. Did you see anyone?” Olivia asked and attempted to calm herself. She stared at the ruined sofa, table, and floor, covered in wine and broken glass.
“I didn’t see a person. I noticed an old, blue Thunderbird speeding out of the neighborhood. It had to be whoever did this. Do you know anyone
