Page 44 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

"You can't?" I shake my head. "You sacrificed everything for Kylie. You said yes even though it was hard."

"And then I ran away," she says. "You can't just bail on your siblings, though."

I glance over at her and find her chewing on her lip, her phone in her free hand like she's preparing to make a call. I squeeze the hand still in mine. "You're going to be a great big sister," I say. "You take great care of the people you love."

She inhales sharply, and I realize a few tears are slipping down her cheeks. I squeeze her hand. "Sorry—we don't have to talk about this."

"No, I'm sorry," Madison says. "I made it about me. You're always asking me if I'm okay, and you told me earlier this week that your brother went to rehab..."

"Hey," I say. "We're taking this trip to do research and have a good time. Delia is going to put us up, and she's got a really weird place up in Salem. You're going to love this place and we can forget about all the shit back home. No more talk of Adam or your future sister."

She grins. "Sounds great."

We drive through Connecticut, then up to Massachusetts. It's warm out, and we roll the windows down, Madison putting her hand out and letting the wind flow through her fingertips. We get to Delia's around four, and I have to get out to open the gate down a gravel driveway.

"Is this the right place?" Madison asks, looking around with a skeptical frown.

"This is it," I say. "It's kind of an artist commune. She brings traveling artists out here and has a whole urban homestead set up. Just wait until you see it."

Little signs of Delia's presence start appearing all over the driveway: modern metal art sculptures, figures, and faces carved into the trees. A little purple house appears at the end of the driveway, and we pull into a big gravel lot to find cottages and trailers dotting a clearing in the forest. At their center is an old Victorian that's been here for over a century and that Delia often brags about is haunted.

Madison's eyes are wide as I park next to a Sprinter van painted like the Mystery Machine, a small smile on her face.

"Okay...you were right," she says. "It's so weird, and I love it."

"Told you," I smirk.

I get out and go around to the back to open the trunk and get our stuff while Madison steps out, looking around in awe. I've just rounded the passenger side to join her when Delia appears at the front door of the main house, waving excitedly.

"You made it!" she says. "I didn't know if you'd remember where it was."

"How could I forget?" I say, coming forward to give her a one-armed hug. My other hand is full of our luggage, but Delia gives me shit about it anyway, as expected.

"Hey, Madison," she says. "I hope I get two arms from you, unlike this asshole."

"Hi, Delia," Madison says and gives her a proper two-armed hug. "Thank you so much for having me."

"You're the one building me a theatre," Delia says. "Come on in; I made coffee."

We follow Delia into the house, which is cluttered with art and various instruments. The smell of coffee fills the air, and Madison takes a deep breath, smiling. Delia leads us into the kitchen, where a few people are sitting and chatting, all with paint on their clothes and fingers.

"Everyone, this is Madison Sterling and my old college buddy Quinn Young," Delia says, gesturing to us. "They're the masterminds behind the Threshold in Greenwich."

"Quinn Young?" one of the guys says, standing up. "I worked on your last show in New York. Set design."

I smile, recognizing him. "Hey! It's...Alec, right? Good to see you again."

"Didn't think you'd remember me," he says. "Yeah, that's right."

I look over at Madison, and I speak without thinking. "Alec painted the set for A Study in Velvet. All the art deco was his idea..."

Madison's smile fades, though she puts a valiant effort into keeping up the facade when I was the one who brought up Kylie.

Shit.

"Well, let me get you up to your rooms, and then we need to get over to the New Salem," Delia says. "The show starts in a couple hours, so I need to be there to cue lights and sound and give a pep talk to the cast and crew."

She leads us up to the second floor, giving us a rundown of the house's history as we climb the creaky wooden stairs. "A rich family owned the house in the nineteenth century; they ran a farm and rented out land to people from the town. Our resident ghost is supposed to be the daughter of the family, who died in the house after being jilted by her lover. She's not malicious or anything, just likes to move things around and make noise. But don't worry, she doesn't bother anyone too much."

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