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CHAPTER 3
Kylie
For the next several days, I actually saw very little of Dylan, but his routine was always the same.
He got up early, used the home gym, and then left the house until he arrived home in the afternoon.
At first, I’d been tempted to follow him to make sure he wasn’t doing anything outrageous, but he always arrived home completely sober every day. Since there hadn’t been any breaking news about his antics, something had told me to give him his space.
In the afternoon, he disappeared into his home office and didn’t surface until the evening.
He’d generally order out for dinner, and eventually headed up to his bedroom after reading in the evening or taking a swim in the pool.
It wasn’t like it was difficult for the two of us to avoid each other since there was plenty of room in the ginormous mansion to put some distance between us.
I got up early every morning to do some yoga and meditation. There was a sundeck outside of the pool room that was a perfect space outdoors for my usual routine.
After that, I spent most of my day working in the office I’d made for myself in my suite of rooms.
My evenings were the same as they were in Newport Beach.
I’d done the grocery shopping, so I cooked myself some dinner, took Jake out for a long walk, and read a book or watched some television in one of the many entertainment areas of the mansion.
I had to admit that my stay in Beverly Hills wasn’t exactly what I’d expected.
No orgies to stop.
No wild behavior.
We co-existed in the same large space with very little interaction.
It’s been five days, and it doesn’t seem like Dylan is likely to invite a harem into his house.
I stirred the marinara sauce I was making for dinner and put some water on to boil for the noodles.
Was it possible that I really didn’t need to be here at all, and that Dylan had been telling the truth about changing his ways?
That was unlikely, right?
Why would he suddenly stop behaving like a jerk?
And what was he doing when he went out for the better part of the day?
Rather than harassing me, Dylan basically tried to ignore my existence. No more propositions or rude comments, either.
The few brief interactions between us had been short, abrupt, and matter-of-fact.
Part of me was relieved, but I was also…intrigued.
I had no idea what made Dylan Lancaster tick or why he seemed more regimented and serious than I’d expected.
I guess I’d thought that he’d piss away his days sleeping and spend his nights partying and indulging himself in every imaginable way.
But he didn’t.
Which made me curious about how he was spending his time.
I had no doubt he was working in his home office. The few times I’d caught a conversation when I was passing by his office door, he’d sounded like he was discussing business.
