Chapter 70 He’s Obsessed with That Room
Andrew laughed— low, warm— reached out and tugged gently on the hem of her sweatshirt. “Suit yourself. But I’m not taking chances.”
“Well, suit yourself.” Maggie pushed off the doorframe, already turning toward the hallway. “Let's go.”
“I’m coming.” Andrew winked at his reflection one last time— quick, cocky— then followed her out.
In the bedroom Maggie grabbed her designer tote from the dresser— black leather, gold hardware— slung it over her shoulder. Andrew scooped his wallet from the nightstand, checked his phone— 8:07— then fell into step behind her.
They moved through the apartment— open-plan living room, city lights still twinkling beyond the windows— down the short hallway to the private garage door. Maggie reached her 2018 Lexus NX 300 F Sport first— pearl white, sleek lines— stopped at the trunk, turned to face him.
“I’m not driving.”
Andrew’s brows lifted— smile tugging. “But we’re going with your car.”
“That don’t mean shit.” Maggie’s tone stayed playful, eyes dancing.
Andrew laughed— soft, delighted— held out his hand. “You never drive. Not even when we’re using your car.”
"Yes." Maggie rolled her eyes again— exaggerated— but dropped the key fob into his palm. “Cause I'm your queen.”
Andrew stepped around her, opened the passenger door with a flourish. Maggie slid in— graceful, teasing glance up at him as she settled. He closed the door gently— solid thunk— then circled to the driver’s side, dropped into the seat, shut his door.
Engine purred to life— smooth, powerful. Garage door rumbled up behind them. Andrew backed out slowly— careful— then eased onto the street. The door rolled shut with a mechanical whir.
Maggie leaned back, crossed one leg over the other. “You nervous?”
Andrew glanced sideways— smile small but real. “A little. Mostly excited.”
She reached over— squeezed his thigh once. “He’s gonna love you. He has no choice.”
Andrew’s hand covered hers— brief, warm. “We’ll see.”
The Lexus merged onto the highway— north toward Olympia— morning traffic light, sun climbing higher, road humming beneath them.
At 10:48 a.m. the Lexus turned off the main road and approached the towering steel gates of Noah’s mansion in Olympia. The gates— black wrought iron, intricate scrollwork—vparted automatically as the car slowed. Andrew eased through— gravel crunching under tires—bthen stopped just inside.
Maggie powered down the passenger window. The security guard— mid-forties, navy uniform, earpiece— leaned down, smiled.
“Hello, Miss Maggie. How are you?”
“Good, thanks. Is Dad home?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded once— warm. “He's waiting. Welcome home.”
“Thank you.” Maggie’s smile was polite—guarded. She powered the window back up.
Andrew drove forward— long driveway lined with manicured oaks, lawn stretching wide on both sides, the mansion rising ahead: white stone, columns, slate roof, windows gleaming like eyes. He parked at the circular drive— engine off— silence sudden and thick.
They stepped out. Maggie led the way— Andrew a half-step behind— up the wide stone steps to the front porch. Double doors— dark wood, brass handles— loomed ahead.
Maggie pressed the bell— soft chime echoed inside.
She glanced back at Andrew— small smile. “Ready?”
He exhaled— quick nod. “Yes.”
The door swung open— no one visible at first. Maggie stepped inside— Andrew followed— into the grand foyer: marble floors, double-height ceiling, sweeping staircase ahead, chandelier dripping crystal above.
Maggie called out— voice carrying. “Dad!”
No answer.
She headed straight for the stairs— Andrew close behind— and climbed to the second floor. The hallway was lined with framed family photos: Maggie as a child, gap-toothed smile; Maggie in cap and gown; Maggie with Noah, her dad, and her late mom at various ages, their smiles stiffening over time.
She stopped at the third door on the right— painted soft cream, brass knob. Twisted it— pushed.
The room opened like a time capsule.
Pastel walls— same shade she’d chosen at sixteen. Twin bed with the same white duvet. Bookshelves still crammed with YA novels and law textbooks. Desk in the corner— old laptop, high-school photos pinned above it. Teddy bear— brown, one eye loose— propped against the pillows.
Maggie whispered— almost to herself. “It’s just the way I left it.”
She crossed to the bed— sat on the edge— bounced once, springs creaking. Then reached for the teddy— lifted it— held it close. Long look— eyes soft, distant.
“I’m taking you back with me.”
Andrew leaned in the doorway— watching her— smile gentle. “I take it this was your room.”
“Yes.” Maggie stood— teddy tucked under one arm— walked toward him. Andrew stepped aside to let her pass.
She moved back into the hallway— Andrew followed. “Maggie— your dad?”
“What about him?” She didn’t look back.
“What about him?” Andrew echoed— gentle tease. “We’re here to see him and we’re just… wandering the house. Do you know where he is?”
Maggie slowed— half-turned. “Calm down. You’ll see him. He’s probably in his study. He’s obsessed with that room.”