Chapter 8

When Ophelia was finished getting ready, she and Sullivan left the room together with Polly and headed downstairs in the elevator. Sullivan's large presence made her feel small in the confined space. As usual, she was very aware of his presence. The way his large hand rested on Polly's head, the way his shoulders filled out his dress shirt, and the way his hair curled on the collar.

Justin wasn't completely wrong. She did have stalkerish like tendencies where Sullivan Richards was concerned.

The elevators opened to a busy lobby, and all eyes turned to them as they stepped into the open space. Ophelia was used to being stared at when she traveled with the family, but it felt odd to have it happen in her hometown with familiar faces.

Sullivan placed his hand in the small of Ophelia's back, ignoring the stares, and directed her towards the back of the lobby, to a private meeting room that was set up for their dinner. The low murmur of voices from the lobby was cut off as Sullivan closed the door behind them.

Ophelia noted the mayor in the corner talking with the manager and Justin in hushed voices as soon as she entered.

"The mayor was at dinner with us. That's why they're here," Sullivan whispered in her ear, giving her goosebumps.

"I asked to see the manager as you did, but instead of getting him, Justin chose to answer the phone. I really did try..." Ophelia's voice trailed off as she felt hopeless. "My being here might be a problem after all," she admitted, unable to look at him.

"I'll take care of it, Ophelia," Sullivan assured her in a gentle voice.

Reyna calmly glided across the room towards them and caught Ophelia up in a tight hug before pulling away and looking at her closely. "You look tired, dear." She patted Ophelia's cheek. "A good night's sleep will set you right."

Ophelia's stomach growled again.

"Ophelia's hungry, Momma," Sullivan said as he moved towards the buffet. Evidently, he hadn't had his dinner yet either. It made Ophelia feel even worse.

"Oh, dear! Come and eat, tell me all about your trip." Reyna said, turning to Sawyer, who had joined them. "Sawyer make Ophelia a plate," Reyna softly insisted as she sat them at a table that was a little away from the rest of the cast and crew.

Reyna's warm greeting made her feel welcome and self-conscious as a spotlight was placed on her, and everyone was staring. Ophelia looked around and noted a few faces she knew for L.A. and plenty that she didn't.

Sullivan had made a plate and sat at the same table as Reyna just as Pops moved to join them while patting Reyna on the shoulder. Sawyer finished making  Ophelia a plate and sat next to her, reclining in his seat with his arm on the table.

They all appeared so relaxed as if they had no worries, but they knew something was up because Ophelia had never asked for help before.

"So, what's going on?" Reyna asked in a low voice as Ophelia began shoveling food in her mouth. Not worrying about manners.

"When was the last time you ate?" Pops asked, watching her.

In fact, everyone in the room watched her, so she forced herself to put her fork down and wipe her mouth. "I ate in Louisiana."

"I've never heard someone describe the last time they ate in a location before," Sawyer grinned.

"It was a while ago," Ophelia said as she side-eyed him while taking another daintier bite of food.

"They gave Ophelia's room away, Momma," Sullivan said, answering Reyna's initial question.

"What? Why?" Reyna looked confused.

"The mayor's daughter wanted it," Ophelia supplied as she took another bite of food.

"It's killing you to eat so slow, isn't it?" Sawyer mused.

Ophelia shot him a look that would kill a lesser man.

"Is that why you were sleeping in Sullivan's room, dear?" Reyna asked, placing her hand on Ophelia's. Of course, Sullivan would have told them that she had arrived safely, and there was no reason he shouldn't tell them she was sleeping in his bed, but it still didn't stop the blush that covered her cheeks.

"Yes, I needed a nap. I couldn't find a room anywhere and thought I might be able to think more clearly after a nap." Ophelia took another bite of food. "I had to call Sullivan because they were about to kick me out of the hotel for trespassing." Ophelia shrugged and gave a sad smile.

They were all talking softly to keep the conversation as private as possible.

"I don't understand, dear." Reyna shook her head, and Ophelia realized she was going to have to explain a little bit.

"I come from here. This is my hometown, and..." Ophelia took a deep breath.

"And?" Reyna encouraged.

"I'm not well-liked. I left for college almost ten years ago, and I haven't been back since."

This time Pops patted her hand. "I'm sure there is a story there, but I can't imagine a reason that someone wouldn't like you, dear. Maybe it's all in your mind."

"I wish it was Pops. Ask Sullivan he was there. He saw the hostility."

Everyone looked at Sullivan, but he didn't confirm or deny what she said.

"Good, then it's a reason to get the hell out of this fishbowl!" Sawyer said for his brother.

Sullivan nodded, on the same page as Sawyer. "I think we can use it to our advantage."

"Where were you going to stay? I hope you were going to tell us and let us help you?" Reyna asked, watching Ophelia with concerned eyes.

Ophelia looked at Sullivan. He knew she had no intention of telling them. "The thought of my car ran through my mind," Ophelia admitted trying to play it off as a joke, and Reyna gave a little cry under her breath.

"What are you going to do about this, Sullivan!" Reyna demanded.

"I'm fine, Reyna. It didn't come to that," Ophelia assured her. "I'm hungry and tired, but the trip was a good one, and Polly was a doll." She looked down at the dog, who wagged her tail in response.

"I'm thinking of a private residence," was all Sullivan had time to get out before the mayor, Gavin Barrett, approached him. He didn't even acknowledge Ophelia's presence at the table.

"Sullivan, I heard we had a little trouble with one of your staff unable to get a room." Gavin motioned for the manager, a tall, wiry man, to join them.

"Is there somewhere else we can take this?" Sullivan asked politely as he placed his napkin on the table.

The mayor nodded, and Ophelia, Sawyer, with a nod from Sullivan, followed Gavin out of the conference room, across the hall, and into another conference room with Polly on their heels.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Sullivan started. "It wasn't a matter of her being unable to get a room. Ophelia had a room. A room which was given, illegally, to your daughter, Mr. Mayor," he said, crossing his arms and making his stance wide as he watched the two men's responses to his direct hit.

"I'm so sorry, but she wasn't here in time-" the manager began, but Sullivan cut him off.

"What Mr. Cross did is unprofessional and immoral. Tell me, was Mr. Cross also that man who told the entire county that we would be filming here this month? Your staff should be more discreet."

"I'm not sure you understand the situation-"

"Will she have a room tonight or not?" Sullivan cut the manager off, no longer interested in anything he had to say.

"I'm sorry, but we don't have anything," Gavin insisted as both men looked at Ophelia, and the dislike was clear to read in their eyes. This was her fault.

A heavy silence fell between everyone in the room. Sullivan was not happy with their answer, and he was letting them know with his silence.

"Then we'll cut our losses and leave tomorrow. I had a back-up location planned, but this was my first choice. It's a shame because it was the perfect setting." Sullivan turned to leave, motioning for Ophelia to proceed him out the door.

"So, let me get this straight, you are going to close down an entire movie production because Ophelia Carter can't stay at this hotel?" The manager hissed before they made it halfway across the open space.

Ophelia felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment at the man's words.

"Yes, and I'm going to take my millions of dollars with me," Sullivan replied. His lips thinned out, and the muscle in his jaw jumped in anger. He wasn't going to explain anything. He was done trying to be nice. Ophelia had never seen him angry before, annoyed, yes, but not angry. It made her want to cower, and she knew him.

"There must be something we can do. We'll find a room, I'm sure of it," Gavin said, backtracking as he realized Sullivan might not be bluffing. Ophelia didn't know if he was bluffing either. Would he pull the entire production on her behalf?

"No, Ophelia will stay in my room tonight. I trust no one will try to drag her out or arrest her in her bathrobe?" Both men refused to look at Ophelia.

"We will leave tomorrow. I won't stay in a hotel unless all my staff is welcome, and you've made it very clear she's not welcome here." Sullivan finished, turning towards the door once more.

Ophelia kept her eyes trained on her feet. It was wonderful to have someone willing to stand up for her, especially if that someone was Sullivan Richards, but this movie had already cost Sullivan a staggering sum, and he would be losing it all if he walked away now.

Ophelia went to speak up, but Sawyer placed his hand on the back of her neck and gently rubbed it in a warning.

"There must be something we can do?" Gavin insisted again.

Sullivan stopped, turning to look at them, considering his words.

"Give us a few minutes to discuss this. I want Ophelia's take on it as well." Sullivan looked at Ophelia, who met his look with wide eyes.

"You're going to let her decide if you're going to finish shooting the movie here?" Gavin asked in disbelief.

"Yes, we are a team, and we make decisions as such." Sullivan looked from Ophelia to the two men, waiting for the manager and mayor to move away.

"This is ridiculous!" Ophelia said urgently as the three of them pulled into a tight circle. Sawyer and Sullivan towered above her, and she could feel Gavin and the manager's eyes on her. "I'll go back to L.A. Then this will all disappear."

"No," they both said together.

"This is way more dramatic than it needs to be, and everyone is going to think I'm a diva!" Ophelia worried.

"They probably will, but why the hell do you care what these people or anyone thinks of you?" Sullivan turned to look at her. He looked as if he was angry and fed up with her.

His words hurt Ophelia, they were true, but it was a harsh delivery.

Sullivan had already made up his mind as to what he wanted, so they stood together talking about the next day's shooting schedule, and a few minutes later, Sullivan motioned for Gavin and the manager to join them.

"We want a private residence. The crew can stay here, but my family, Ophelia and Giselle Logan, require a house." Sullivan insisted.

Ophelia felt her heart drop a little at Giselle's name, but at this point, she couldn't really argue it. Sullivan had already done so much for her.

"This little island is not as private as I was promised. Your staff is unprofessional and indiscreet, the hotel is littered with gawkers, and you're making a nice little profit due to your staff's indiscretion. I have also had to hire additional security because of that indiscretion."

"Well..." Gavin hedged.

"Is a private residence possible or not?" Sullivan demanded.

"I think we can work something out. Let me ask around." Then Gavin and the manager of the hotel hurried off.

Ophelia felt like she had when she was younger. Out of place and nothing but trouble to anyone who had to deal with her. The Richards were very important to her, and she felt like she was letting them down. If this went on for much longer, then they wouldn't want her here. They wouldn't want her full stop.

"I'm a little tired," Ophelia cleared her throat to keep from crying. "If you tell me where you want me to stay, I'll turn in for the night."

"You'll stay in my room as I explained to Barrett, and I'll bunk with Sawyer," Sullivan said, turning to Sawyer and saying something that Ophelia couldn't hear.

"It's good that you're here, Ophelia. We needed a little luck!" Sawyer said as he kissed her on the cheek and then left her alone with Sullivan.

"I hardly think I'm bringing good luck with me," Ophelia said with a little mocking laugh.

Sullivan stood across from her and crossed his arms. "Look at me, Ophelia," he commanded.

Ophelia lifted her head and looked into his deep brown eyes. She wanted to fall into them. She wanted to fall into his arms and have him tell her everything was going to be alright.

"This is good luck. Sawyer is right when he says this place is like a fishbowl. Our being here was supposed to be kept quiet, but somehow word got out, and every hotel within a fifty-mile radius is booked. We can't go anywhere or do anything without having an army of people following us around, and Barrett's daughter is the worst."

Sullivan placed his large hands on Ophelia's shoulders. "Momma has missed you, Pops has been worried sick about you on the road by yourself, and believe it or not, you do bring us luck. You're getting us out of this hotel and into somewhere with a little more privacy."

He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry that you have to come back here, that you got your feelings hurt, but you're part of our world now, and none of them matter. I don't know about your history here, and I don't care. If you want to share, I'll listen, but it's not necessary.

Sullivan squeezed her shoulders. "You're tired. Get some sleep. Everything will look better in the morning."

Ophelia nodded, taking a deep breath. "Do you want me to keep Polly tonight?" she asked.

Sullivan smiled, and Ophelia felt ten times better at the sight of it. She even managed to give him a wavery smile back.

"That would be great," he agreed.

Ophelia nodded and motioned for Polly to follow her. "Goodnight," she said.

"Goodnight," he returned.

Ophelia made it all the way to the door, but at the last minute, something made her turn around and run to him. She threw his arms around his neck and hugged him hard, and he returned her hug.

"Thank you for standing up for me," she whispered.

Then she quickly made for the door as the tears started to fall. She would not let him see her cry.