Page 12 of Off Limits (Alpha Billionaire)

But that wasn’t the situation. I wouldn’t betray the Anderson family. He couldn’t make me. I didn’t work for him, and I certainly didn’t love him anymore. I felt like I was going to throw up. I ran down the hall, trying to escape him and my past.

“Jessica? Are you all right?”

I looked up to see Mrs. Anderson slowly making her way down the hall, leaning heavily on an aluminum frame walker. Clara was a pace behind, glaring at the world.

“Should you be up?” I asked.

I had never seen her up and walking. Oh, I had seen her move slowly about in her rooms, but I thought she was a medical recluse.

“I am allowed out of my room. My doctor encouraged me to take small walks when I can. It looks so lovely outside. I thought I’d like to take in some fresh air and the sunshine. Come with me.”

I fell into pace next to her.

“Has my son come back from his morning golf?” she asked.

“Yes, he’s back. He has a friend with him,” I answered.

“Not a friend, a business crony. I suspect they were doing that networking thing.”

“Not a friend?” I asked. A sense of relief evaporated from the surface of my skin. So, Mr. Anderson—Dylan—wasn’t friends with Ryan. That was good to know.

Mrs. Anderson stopped moving. She looked like she was focusing or maybe struggling. I reached out a hand to place on her back and glanced nervously at Clara.

Clara just glared at me.

Mrs. Anderson took a shaky breath and then seemed recovered enough to continue. “Walking can be tiring.”

“Do you need to go back or sit down?” I asked. Why wasn’t Clara helping her?

“If I sit down or go back, I wouldn’t get outside to see the sun.”

“I wish I had half of your tenacity,” I admitted.

She laughed. “If I gave you half of mine, I wouldn’t be up and about against Clara’s wishes. Why do you need tenacity, Jessica?”

I let out a bitter chuckle. “Self-preservation. I haven’t been the best at standing up for myself over the years.”

Mrs. Anderson stopped walking again, only this time, she twisted sharply to look at me. “Has my son said or done anything?”

“No, ma’am. In my past. I’ve had bad situations with the people I’ve worked for and dated. I could have used more fortitude in my youth. Your son is a perfect gentleman and employer. He keeps telling me to call him Dylan, and I can’t quite bring myself to do so.”

“He calls you Jessica. I don’t see why you shouldn’t call him Dylan. I quite like his name. After all, I gave it to him. You should use it. And honey, you are still in your youth. Trust me.”

There was a harrumph from behind us. Clara clearly did not approve. I might have to agree with her this one time.

There was another reason I didn’t want to switch from ‘Mr. Anderson’ to ‘Dylan’. When I had started working for Ryan, I called him Mr. Carmichael. It felt like a familiar slippery slope from a work relationship into a relationship that had nothing to do with work. Not that Dylan wasn’t an attractive man, and if our situations were different and if I had met him at a bar or something… but I worked for him. I was his son’s nanny.

We continued to walk slowly. She stopped before a large floor to ceiling window that was framed in heavy drapes. I thought she wanted to go outside, not just look outside. But maybe a different view from what she got from her room was what she needed. I moved to shift the drapes, to make more light come in, when I discovered a handle. “This is a door,” I announced.

“I know,” Mrs. Anderson said with a smile in her voice.

“I thought it was a window.” I opened the door and held it open as she slowly made her way outside and onto a small balcony. Before I could step out with her, the baby monitor in my pocket began to squeak with noise. “Max is awake. I need to go. Enjoy the sunshine.”

Clara was muttering with that same sour look on her face as I left.

I walked across the house to Max’s room. Why was Ryan here? I didn’t know exactly what Dylan did for a living. I knew he wasthe CEO of his company, but what that company did, I had no idea.

But I did know what Ryan did. He liked to scam people. Half of anything he did was to make a bigger buck. The actual work was legal, but sometimes, his methods of getting people to make the decisions he wanted them to make were not very legal. And even if they were legal, they weren’t moral.

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