You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 749

“You’re not going in?”

Chelsea stood in the lobby, leaning against the cool marble doorframe, arms crossed, lost in her own thoughts. Oliver had dropped her off at the entrance, and she’d walked the rest of the way, mind spinning the whole time. She still couldn’t figure out why Oliver wanted Jackson away from Patricia. Was it just jealousy? Possessiveness? None of it made sense.

A voice suddenly cut through her thoughts.

“Mr. McKee?”

Chelsea looked him over. Hector was still in his gym clothes, shorts revealing strong calves, bangs damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead.

“Just got back from playing ball, Mr. McKee?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Did you finally escape the institute?”

Chelsea blinked, confused. She had no idea what he was talking about. The elevator arrived but was immediately called away again, so they waited by the wall.

Hector noticed her confusion and offered, “Isn’t your shopping username ‘The Fair Maiden Who Can’t Escape the Institute’?”

Chelsea just stared at him, a little embarrassed, rubbing her nose.

“Come on,” Hector pressed, “did you find a new way to relax? You used to shop like crazy, now you’ve stopped.”

Chelsea nodded. “Yeah, I got a couple of puppies.”

Chelsea still looked worried. “But Oliver’s so cold sometimes. What if Patricia gets hurt?”

The elevator reached her floor, but she wasn’t finished. Chelsea grabbed Hector’s arm as she stepped out, pulling him with her. The hallway smelled like gardenia from a diffuser, the fresh scent covering up any trace of sweat on Hector.

“And you think Patricia’s some innocent victim?” Hector said, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, you really believe she’d let herself get played?”

He thought to himself, not a chance. Patricia was sharp. She could handle herself.

Upstairs in the Cloud Peak master bedroom, Patricia stood at the mirror, taking off her makeup. She’d run out of cleansing oil and had to go upstairs to borrow a bottle from Sara. Sara always had Chanel’s fancy stuff. Patricia walked back to her room, tearing open the box as she went. She pulled out the bottle, crushed the empty box, and tossed it in the trash.

As she massaged the oil onto her face, she took her time, moving slowly and gently, almost like she was looking for any excuse to delay whatever came next.