Page 68 of House of Lies

I race out of the room and down to the first floor. But his bedroom door is locked.

Does he know I’m onto him, or is he always this paranoid?

My heart pounds steadily inside my chest as I consider my options.

Oh, right.

I don’t have any.

Chapter 26

Ethan

I’ve barely been gone an hour, so when I enter my kitchen and I’m hit with the decadent aroma of melting cheese and rich marinara sauce, I feel like I’ve stepped into a parallel universe.

I’m even more confused when I see Cassidy standing at the range, an apron tied over her sweatpants and hoody, her shiny brown hair pulled up into a messy bun at the back of her head.

There’s a bottle of red wine on the kitchen island, uncorked and left to breathe.

“What’s all this?”

She jumps, but honestly, I couldn’t have been that quiet. Turning, she gives me a hesitant smile. “Lasagna usually lasts a few days. Imagine my surprise when I come to get a slice and there’s nothing left.”

“I had some for breakfast,” I tell her. “And lunch. Not my fault you’re such a good cook.”

Despite the enormous slice of lasagna I had for lunch, my stomach grumbles at the smell permeating the air.

She blushes at this, then pushes her lips out like the compliment makes her uncomfortable. “Can’t promise this baked chicken parm will be as good as the pie, but?—”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I’m celebrating.” She shrugs, propping her elbow against her hip as she licks the spoon she’s holding. “Your McMansion is done and dusted. Literally.”

I hang up the Mercedes’s keys on the near empty keyring holder by the wall phone and take off my leather jacket, tossing it onto the nearest counter. The oven has warmed up the kitchen just enough that I can walk around in my sweater.

“Excellent news.”

Cassidy smiles at me, and for once it doesn’t look forced. “Do you still need my help tomorrow?”

Why am I so off-balance? This is what I wanted, wasn’t it?

I guess I’m still reeling from my trip. I never realized it would be so difficult, parting with Becks’s things, even temporarily. But I couldn’t have them in the house anymore, not with Cassidy around. The thought that she’d open that box, that she’d wonder about everything inside, maybe even start asking questions…?

“Yes,” I grunt out. “I’d appreciate it.”

She shrugs again, giving the spoon another lick. “Of course, happy to help.”

I narrow my eyes. “Have you already had some wine?”

“No,” she says through a laugh. “I was waiting for you. Why?”

I walk over to pour us each a glass. “You’re very…cheerful.”

“Implying I’m usually not?” she says lightly, turning her back to me. I guess the dish is already in the oven, because she collects the empty saucepans and takes them over to the wash station.

“I suppose an adjustment period is normal in a situation like this,” I say. “I’ll be honest, you’re the first live in, uh, assistant I’ve had.”

“Assistant?” she giggles. “You can’t even say it, can you?”

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