Page 30 of Off Limits (Alpha Billionaire)

If Dylan had been that angry just from finding out I had a past with Ryan, how was he going to react when he found out what else I did? Maybe I shouldn’t have unpacked. I thought about my options. I could keep my secrets. There were things from my past that didn’t need to resurface. If it were up to just me, they would stay there. Problem solved.

I contemplated the joinery work on the drywall in the closet. The paint from the wall was almost perfect. The line from wall to sloped ceiling was as perfectly straight as craftsmanship could make it. That wall, that joint that brought the two angles together, was so simple, and yet so beautiful. It was a tiny little detail of mastery from some guy, or woman, who was doing their job. They probably didn’t receive any special commendation for doing such beautiful work because it was their job.

Was it some kind of metaphor for my situation? Or was I reading far too much into it?

I was sitting in a closet in a mansion in one of the richest zip codes in the country contemplating the painting skills of some unnamed laborer and trying to figure out whether this was a hidden message about my life. What did that say about me?

“You need therapy, Jessica,” I said to the walls. I probably needed more than therapy, but until I qualified for health insurance—which I would through the hiring agency after so many hours of continuous employment—I was going to have to find my inner equilibrium by talking to the walls in the closet.

I couldn’t hide in here forever. I flipped the suitcase closed and ran the zipper around, closing it. With a groan, I pushed to my feet, and then I hauled the bag into the very back behind the hanging clothes. In the bathroom, I made an effort to put myself back together, make myself presentable before I headed off to find Dylan and Max.

I was a little worse for wear after the long day at the aquarium, followed by the emotional turmoil of Dylan’s anger. From the streaks my mascara had left down my cheeks, I realized that I had been crying at some point. I washed my face with cool water and brushed my hair. I wiped the cool, wet washcloth over my neck and between my breasts. I felt better, and I looked ready to face the rest of the day.

Downstairs, I expected to find Dylan and Max in the kitchen. They were nowhere to be found. I stood in the empty kitchen and tried not to panic. Had I taken too long? I went to the dining room and continued to look through the downstairs rooms when I couldn’t find them.

I decided to see if they had decided to visit with Mrs. Anderson.

Clara’s grim face scowled at me after I knocked on the door. “What are you doing here?” she snapped at me.

“I’m sorry to bother you. I was looking for Mr. Anderson and Max. I thought that maybe they came for a visit.”

“They aren’t here. She’s tired. You need to leave.”

I nodded and was about to step back to leave when I heard Mrs. Anderson’s voice.

“I’m not so tired that I can’t have a chat. Clara, let her in,” Mrs. Anderson’s voice called out. She wasn’t loud, and her voice was shaky, but there was no denying her words.

Clara’s face twisted up. She clearly was not happy that she wasn’t in control here.

I returned her attitude with a grimace. It would have been nice if she wasn’t so obviously hostile toward me. I wasn’t going to give her back the same energy she gave to me, but I was done trying to play nice with her.

“Come in, Jessica.”

I gave Mrs. Anderson a genuine smile. She was easy to be nice to. “I was looking for Mr. Anderson and Max,” I repeated in case she hadn’t heard me tell Clara.

“I’m sure they are around somewhere. Or maybe they went out for a ride,” she said. “Come sit. We haven’t had a good chat in a while.”

I crossed the room and perched on the small side chair. “Have you been working on any new crochet projects?” I asked.

“No, dear, I’m slow. I’m still working on the same blanket I’ve been working on for a while.”

I smiled and waited for her to continue.

“I know about you and Dylan,” she said.

I bit the inside of my cheek and sat up. I wasn’t expecting that from her. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t worry, dear, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. It’s been obvious.”

“How? You never see us together,” I managed. It was as much of a confession as if I had blurted out the truth.

She shook her head. “I know my son. He doesn’t get that hot headed unless it’s important. And he was fit to be tied earlier. I figured it out before he told me anything. I don’t understand why it has to be a secret. If you care for each other, I think that’s a wonderful thing. And Max adores you. He needs a steady female presence in his life.”

I knew it wasn’t my place to ask, but I was incredibly curious. Asking Dylan’s mother was next to gossiping. Something I shouldn’t do. But she’s the one who brought it up.

“What about Max’s mother? She’s not around, that’s obvious, but there is no sign of her at all. I can only guess that Dylan isn’t a widower.”

She looked at me for a long moment without saying anything.

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