Page 70 of House of Lies

She takes off her oven mitts and slips her phone out of her sweatpants. The moment I see it, all I can think about is that truncated message I saw this morning…right after I’d defiled her in her sleep.

My cock twitches at the memory, and I slide a hand in my pocket to keep it restrained against my thigh. “Let me see.”

She hesitates until she realizes why I want to see her phone and then hands it over. I glance at the socket at the bottom, and then shake my head. “Sorry. Can’t help you.”

I’m being petty, but I don’t fucking care. While she’s under my roof, I’m the only man in her life.

“Oh.” Her disappointment puts a bitter taste in my mouth. “Okay, thanks anyway.”

“You didn’t think to bring a charger? Exactly what did Myles tell you when he sent you here?”

There’s something unreadable on her face when she blinks up at me. I sigh, shaking my head. “I know you don’t work for Shimmer and Shine.”

She looks away. “I suppose he wanted me to play it by ear.”

I chuckle dryly. “Shocker. That’s just like him, sending a fucking lamb into the wolf’s den and telling her to ‘play it by ear.’”

“Lamb?” she says through a snort.

“That’s the part that worries you?” I shake my head and take another sip of wine as I study her. She maintains eye contact for all of three seconds before going to the cabinet and taking down plates for us. I fetch cutlery and napkins from the drawer, setting them on the kitchen island.

As we sit down with a serving of baked chicken parm oozing deliciousness onto our plates, I finally relent and hand her my cellphone.

She stares at it like it’s a snake.

“If you need to call someone,” I say, waving my hand over the mobile.

“Oh. Um…thanks. But I’m good.” She pushes the phone back to me with the tip of her finger, gives me a brief, tight smile, and starts digging into the lasagna.

“This is fantastic,” I say when I pause to take a sip of wine.

“I know.” She gives me another small smile. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.”

The wine isn’t as sweet anymore. I take a deep breath, trying to will myself to answer the question I’d evaded earlier. “You asked me how long I want you to stay,” I say quietly, scraping together a small heap of lasagna with my fork.

She’s silent for a moment. “And?”

I’m about to ask her to come with me to the city when my phone rings.

Angelo

He’s been trying me several times a day, and each time I just decline the call. I stare at his name on the screen, wondering if I should pick it up and tell him to stop calling.

“You gonna get that?” Cassidy asks, leaning back as she sips at her wine.

“No.” I decline the call.

Why the hell can’t he take no for an answer? He’s resourceful—he can easily find another job. But he seems intent on making this my problem. Is it my fault he burned through all his commission in a matter of months? He always preferred spending his money on frivolous things like cars and clothes, expensive vacations, expensive women. I told him to invest in stocks, even put him in touch with my portfolio manager, but he refused to listen to reason.

Appetite gone, I push away my plate. “That was delicious, thank you.”

“You don’t want more?” she asks, eyeing me warily.

I look up at her, and I don’t know what she sees on my face, but it makes her flinch.

Of course I want more.

But she was meant to be a distraction. A bittersweet reminder of a past I’ve been trying to forget about.

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