Page 29 of Just a Little White Lie

“Thanks.” I grit out the word, then spin before she can see the plastic smile melt right off my face.

I need this job for the money, but aw, man!

An entire week of that dance class?

Jack might not be the only dead one by the time Friday rolls around.

JACK

I’m just laxing out in front of the TV, watchingThe Officeand trying not to cringe every time Michael Scott does something epically stupid and embarrassing. I still can’t help laughing at it, though.

“Yikes,” Luke mutters from the table.

“What’s up?” I call, pausing the TV and leaning forward to check on him. He’s rising from the table with a slight frown.

“Lauren just tore into the driveway, and by the way she’s slamming the car door right now, I think she’s had a bad day. She looks seriously pissed.”

I wince and lean back, not wanting to get in the way of her warpath. I’m kind of gutted she’s had a bad one. I was hoping she’d come home all inspired and geared up for a repeat.

“I’m thinking now is a great time to go and do the grocery shopping.” Luke grabs his wallet and shades while I slump back against the couch cushions.

“Coward,” I mutter.

He gives me an impish smile and walks out of view.

The back door slams shut, and I choose not to un-pause the TV. It’d be great to get a read on how heated this situation really is.

Does she just need a stiff drink and a hot bath?

Does she need to shout and throw stuff?

Or is it more of a cry-fest situation?

“Whoa.” Luke laughs like he’s oblivious to her mood. “Keys, please. I want to do a grocery run.”

I can’t see either of them, but I hear Lauren growl.

“Good day?” Luke keeps his voice upbeat, and I cringe.

Total coward.

“Yeah, great!” she snips, and I catch sight of the corner of her bag slapping onto the dining table.

“Okay. Awesome.” Luke’s voice is overly bright, and I shake my head. “I’m looking forward to hearing all about it. See ya soon!”

He escapes out the door, and I stay put, wondering if I should get up to check on her. Will she want me to do that? Or does she just want some space?

Because I’m the kind of guy who needs room when I’m raging. I like to bury myself away from everyone and—

“Jack!” Her screech is borderline feral, and I go still, wondering if couches are capable of swallowing human beings the way snakes do.

“Jack!” she shouts again, and I figure I can’t go accusing Luke of being a coward and then act like one myself.

“In here,” I quietly call.

Thunderous steps approach and then she’s there, hands on her hips, hoop earrings swinging, and a mottled anger scrunching up her face.

“How could you do that to me? It wasn’t funny! And now I’m stuck teaching a bunch of kids who think I’m the world’s biggest idiot! I swear, I want to kill you right now!”

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