Page 14 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Maid
Pine Falls welcomed me back like a warm hug, its familiar streets a soothing balm after the cold steel and glass of Huntington Harbor. Wind chimes tinkled in the distance, and garden ornaments glistened under the sun. The air smelled like fresh-cut grass and backyard barbecues. The quiet suburbs were a far cry from the city's noise and constant buzz.
Maggie's house sat at the end of Clementine Drive, a cozy two-story with fading blue paint that needed touching up and cheerful yellow curtains that always made me think of sunshine. Max's red bike with its training wheels lay tipped over in the front yard, exactly where it had been during my last visit. The concrete path leading to the door was cracked, with dandelions pushing through.
The screen door burst open before I reached the porch.
"Aunt Nina!" Max came flying out, a blur of Marvel t-shirt and untied sneakers. I caught him mid-leap, spinning to absorb the impact as he wrapped his arms around my neck. The scent ofbaby shampoo and fruit snacks filled my nose, and the tightness in my chest loosened. "You came back!"
"Of course I did, superhero." I buried my face in his hair, soaking in his warmth. "I promised, didn't I?"
"Nina!" Maggie appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a flour-dusted dish towel. Her smile was warm, but I caught the concern in her eyes. "You're just in time for cookies."
Inside, the house was its usual cheerful chaos. Crayons and action figures littered the coffee table, and a half-finished puzzle of dinosaurs sprawled across the dining room floor. The air was thick with the smell of chocolate chip cookies and coffee, making my mouth water. It felt worlds away from Dean's sterile penthouse with its chrome and glass and lingering secrets.
"So," Maggie said once Max had dragged me to the kitchen table and presented me with his latest artistic masterpiece, a crayon drawing of me in a flowing purple cape, brandishing what looked like a glowing mop at shadowy monsters. "How's the city treating you?"
I traced the wobbly lines of Max's drawing, buying time. The monster shapes in the corners were darker than his usual style, almost ominous. "It's different."
"Different good or different bad?" She set a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, the ceramic warm against my palms.
"Both?" The coffee was perfect. "The job is challenging, but interesting. Dean is..."
"Still throwing things?" Her eyebrow arched.
"No, no, nothing like that." I struggled to find the right words. How could I explain the way he shifted between arctic distanceand scorching focus? The electricity that crackled between us in quiet moments? The glimpses of vulnerability I caught when he thought no one was looking? The dark past he didn't want me to look into? "He's complicated."
"Complicated." Maggie's voice flattened. "Nina, please tell me you're not developing feelings for your boss."
"Of course not!" The denial came too quickly. Heat crept up my neck as Maggie's knowing look pierced right through me.
"Aunt Nina's turning red!" Max announced helpfully, looking up from his new drawing. "Like a tomato!"
"Thanks, buddy." I ruffled his hair, grateful for the distraction. "What are you drawing now?"
"It's you fighting the bad guys!" He held up the paper proudly. "With your super mop powers! See? The monsters can't get near you 'cause you're too bright!"
The crayon figure wore a flowing cape that seemed to radiate light, keeping the dark shapes at bay. Something about it made my throat tight. Was that how Max saw me? A light in the darkness?
"Can I keep this one?" I asked softly.
Max beamed. "Yeah! You can hang it up in the big tower where you work!"
My heart squeezed. If only he knew how much darkness that tower held.
"Sometimes late at night, when the penthouse was silent except for Dean's restless pacing, I could feel the oppressive weight of secrets pressing down, making the air thick and heavy. Theway shadows seemed to gather in corners despite the modern lighting, as if drawn to whatever pain Dean carried. Max's innocent belief in my ability to fight monsters made my chest ache. How could I explain that some monsters weren't crayon drawings, but memories that haunted people until they built walls so high even they couldn't escape?"
"Nina." Maggie's voice pulled me back. She waited until Max had turned his attention to adding more monsters to his drawing. "I know that look."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're about to do something stupidly brave." She reached across the table to squeeze my hand. "You've always had a thing for fixing broken things, but some people don't want to be fixed."
"He's not broken." The words came out sharper than intended. "He's just guarded."
"And you think you can get past those guards?" She sighed. "I've seen this before, remember? With Travis?"
The name hit like a slap. "Dean's nothing like Travis."
"No?" Her eyes drifted to where Max sat drawing, blissfully unaware of the conversation. "Travis seemed complicated too, until he wasn't. Until he was just cruel."
