It's not a love story!

'I can't believe you!' Annie let out, disgusted.

'I am not writing a love story. Where would you get an insane idea like that?' I answered.

'I don't know.' Annie admitted. 'When you said you were going to stay out here for a couple of weeks to write a novel, I guess I just assumed that it would be romantic. Isn't that the stereotype? You know, holiday in some secluded area to find yourself?' She continued.

'What?' Annie asked, as I gaped at her, my bottom lip nearly touching the floor.

'Where do you hear this crap?' I asked.

'I dunno, on a movie I think. Well, oh, am I interrupting you? Have you started writing already?' Annie began to leave.

'Already? No. Annie, we just got here, I haven't even unpacked yet.' I answered.

'In that case, do you want to come with me to explore?'

'Explore? Seriously, how old are you?!' I teased, then grabbed her hand as I dragged her out of the room.

Later that night, we sat down to dinner at the old dining table. The butler served me some vegetables. As he left Annie whispered to me, 'This is beyond awesome. I can't believe we have our own personal butler.'

'Yeah, I didn't know we would be getting a butler when I rented this place. I said I wanted it for two months, and was told there would only he the housekeeper here. This is the furthest place away from the city. I just needed to get away for a little while.' I explained.

We both sat quietly chewing our vegetables, each deep in thought.