Page 69 of House of Lies

I refuse to take her bait. “How long did you think this would last? You didn’t even bring a change of clothes, so I assume you weren’t planning to still be here.”

“Have I overstayed my welcome already?” Her back is still turned, and it’s almost as frustrating not being able to see her eyes as it is listening to her evasive answers.

I take her glass over to her, setting it down nearby as I loom over her.

She glances up at me, and then gives me a double take when she sees how close I am. Suddenly her movements are less precise, her fingers trembling just a little.

“I guess the real question is, how long do you want me to stay?” Despite her flippant tone, I sense hesitation in her.

She stiffens when I brush a loose curl of chestnut hair away from her neck.

“Let me,” I murmur, coming to stand beside her and gently shooing her out of the way so I can wash the dishes.

This drastic change in attitude can only mean one thing. I’ve been too soft on her. I suppose I’m out of practice. It’s been a while since I’ve had to break someone in.

“It’s okay, really,” she says, fighting to keep her spot.

“I’ve got this.”

She retreats reluctantly, taking her glass with her, but she doesn’t go far. I glance over at her as she rests her hip against the side of the counter, her jade eyes fixed on my hands as I scrub at the saucepans.

“So do you come from money, or are you in finance or something?”

The edges of my lips twitch. “Neither.”

“Mysterious much?” she mutters into her glass.

I rinse the saucepan and set it aside on the drying rack before starting on the next one. “I’m a gemologist.”

“A what now?”

When I glance over at her, she has the cutest wrinkle in her nose. “I appraise precious gems, and broker deals between interested parties.”

“So you’re like a jeweler or something?”

My mouth thins for a moment, but I’m sure the last thing Cassidy wants is a lesson in gemology, so I let it go. I scrub at a stubborn mark on the saucepan. “I deal primarily with private collectors and other high-end clientele. They hire me to make sure the pieces they’re buying are worthy of their investment.”

“Have you always liked getting your rocks off?”

I throw her a glare, and she drops her gaze to her wine, a small smile teasing her lips. “What about you? Been in this line of work very long?”

She shrugs. “First time, actually. I’m more comfortable waiting tables.” Then, as if she can’t wait to change the subject, she blurts out, “Couldn’t help but notice the phones aren’t working anymore.”

There’s only a handful of cutlery and utensils left now. I glance at her as I wash them. “Had them disconnected. I’m going back to the city tomorrow. This house is too big for one person. I always preferred my apartment, anyway.”

“So why the hell did you buy this place, then?”

I slowly put the last spoon on the drying rack and let out the dishwater, keeping my eyes turned away from her. She shifts from foot to foot, takes a quick sip of wine, drops her head. “That was rude. Sorry.”

Sighing, I go to pick up my wineglass and take a sip. Cassidy glances over at me nervously. She’s probably wondering if I’m going to force her to her knees again to serve penance.

I’m fucking tempted.

We were having a normal, half-decent conversation before she ruined it. She can’t seem to get over the fact that we’re from such different worlds.

A timer goes off, and she jerks in surprise before rushing over to take the chicken parm out of the oven.

“Do you have a charger I could use?” she says as she sets the dish down. “I woke up and my phone was dead.”

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