Dirty Little Liars (9 page)

“Good.” Covington grabbed their coats from the attendant and placed them on the counter. Then, as if she couldn’t master the art of dressing herself, he held out her wool and fur coat and she slipped her arms inside. He turned her to face him full on. As he fastened the drawstring tight around her waist she saw Tyler. The senator was standing at the peak of the stairs, watching them. There was something puzzling about his expression. It wasn’t concern, but something darker. Anger or jealousy, perhaps?

Well, good. Now he knows what it feels like.

Covington surprised her by putting on his own coat and nudging her gently to the door.

“You’re leaving too?”

“But of course. I wouldn’t imagine sending a young attractive woman like yourself out into the city alone. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t at least see you to your door?”

“That’s very kind, but not necessary.”

Covington held open the door and for a split second she thought she saw his gaze drift off behind them. It lasted only for an instant and then his attention centered entirely on Juliette. She declined the escort—up until the black limo pulled up to the curb and the driver stepped out to assist them. Suddenly she didn’t see the harm in accepting a ride from her employer. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

You could end up dead and buried at the bottom of some construction site.

Right. Well, plenty could happen if she trusted the likes of Dean Covington, but she was desperate to get away from the happy couple. And Covington, like some magical fairy godfather, offered the perfect getaway car.

Chapter 20: House Call

Covington was nothing but polite as they drove to her apartment. They talked of the weather, of D.C. politics, and her favorite classes at Georgetown. He was impressed with her GPA and the fact that she was now semi-fluent in French and Russian. “We’ll have to get you over to Paris so that you can fine-tune your skills.”

She lit up at the thought. Up until now she had been convinced that she blew her chance to get in with Covington. If she failed, there was no way he was going to give her a second shot. But Covington seemed pleased as punch with the recent developments.

The driver slowed as they turned onto her street. Covington pushed a button on the intercom. “Third townhouse to your left, Zeke.”

Juliette frowned. “How do you know where I live?”

“I make it my business to know everything about my employees. It’s a good rule to live by. Perhaps you should give it a try.”

The limo came to a stop and Zeke jumped out to open her door. Covington gave her a swift wave goodbye before disappearing behind the tintned glass window. Even with the distance she could feel Covington’s gaze examining her every move. His presence made her hands jittery and she nearly dropped her keys as she worked to open the outer door. Once inside she rushed past the mailboxes and straight to the stairs. She was in desperate need of time to think.

Juliette stepped into the steaming tub of water and the mass of bubbles swished around her ankles. She winced as she lowered herself into the claw-foot tub. At first the water seemed to scorch her skin. After a few moments her body embraced the warmth like a big, fluffy blanket. She sank farther into the bubbles and let her headrest over the edge of the tub.

Juliette had one single objective for the evening: forget everything that had happened during the last forty-eight hours. That had proven a difficult thing to do. After arriving at her apartment she immediately stripped from the dress, washed off her makeup, and donned a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. She ordered takeout and sat on the couch, ready to resume her night of trashy TV. But after thirty minutes she found she couldn’t sit still. Her mind wouldn’t focus on what was happening on TV.

She opened a bottle of wine, hoping that would force her to relax, but she drank the first glass in less than three minutes and found herself pouring another one in five.

Finally she settled on taking a long, hot bath. She turned off the light, lit a few lavender-scented candles along the sink, and filled the tub with her favorite bubble bath. Her iPod was nestled in the corner, playing her favorite Coldplay tunes. Sure, she was still carrying around her bottle of wine, but she hadn’t yet resorted to drinking straight from the bottle, so she considered this an improvement.

And for the moment it appeared to be working. She felt the tension ease out of her as she closed her eyes and shut out the world. The music was like her mood, gray and melancholy, and it made her feel welcomed. Perhaps misery really did love company?

Juliette woke up with a start. The water was ice-cold, the bubbles were long gone, and her phone was vibrating instead of ringing. She pulled herself out of the tub and wrapped a towel beneath her arms. She patted her hands frantically against the cotton before answering the phone. When she swiped the screen, she saw Tyler Chase’s name.

So not what she wanted to see.

She hit ignore and switched the phone to airplane mode. And just like that, the outside world was completely cut off.

Juliette grabbed the half empty bottle of wine and headed to her bedroom. She toweled off, slipped into her third pair of yoga sweats for the day and another long-sleeved t-shirt. She stared at herself in the mirror. It was a far cry from the girl she had seen earlier this evening. The one who looked like she donned the cover of Vogue or Esquire for Men. Now she was just plain old Juliette Morgan.

There’s nothing wrong with that, a voice told her, and she was inclined to agree. She climbed into bed, grabbed the book on her nightstand, and settled in for the night.

Juliette jerked awake for the second time that evening. Only this time it was the pounding on her apartment door that woke her.

She glanced at the alarm clock, which read 2:23. “You have got to be kidding me.” She had only been asleep for an hour.

Juliette tried to ignore the knocking but her curiosity got the better of her. If she had been a betting woman she would have put money on one Mr. Tyler Chase, though there was also a slim chance it might be Courtney. Juliette wasn’t in a hurry to see either one of them. The door rattled again as someone resumed the knocking.

She pulled herself out of the bed and plodded to the front door.

“I’m coming,” she snapped at what had to be the sixth set of pounding.
Don’t these people know I have neighbors?

She stood on her tiptoes so that she could peek through the peephole. It wasn’t Ty or Courtney. It was Winston. The friend slash assistant slash campaign advisor.

He pounded again and she jerked backward.
Holy hell. This was ridiculous.

Juliette undid the locks and yanked the door open before pulling him inside and closing it again.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Huh?” He looked completely perplexed.

“It’s two-thirty in the morning. I have neighbors, you know.”

“Oh, yeah. They’re not home. Well, Gina and Mike aren’t anyway. And the old couple can’t hear a thing without their hearing aids. Dead to the world, they are.”

“That doesn’t make it okay to pound on people’s doors in the middle of the night.” Juliette crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

“Riiiight…” he said. “I’m sorry?”

The fact that he said it like a question was an obvious sign that he wasn’t sorry at all. Clearly he didn’t understand what he had done wrong.

“What are you doing here?”

His face suddenly lit up again as he remembered his reason for banging on her door.

“I came to get you.”

“To get me? For what?”

“There’s something you need to see.” Winston grabbed her arm and pulled her to the door.

“Hold on.” She stumbled after him. He turned at her resistance.

“What is it?”

“I’m not even dressed and I haven’t agreed to go anywhere with you. I don’t even know you.”

“You know Ty.”

She waited for him to continue because certainly that wasn’t reason enough to leave the comforts of her own living room.

“Just trust me. There’s a lot more to this story than meets the eye. You have a right to know the truth. If you come with me, you’ll get just that.”

“The truth about what?”

“About Ty.”

Juliette began to back away. “No. I don’t want to know anything more about Ty. In fact, I want nothing to do with him.”

Winston’s phone rang and he snapped it open. “Hello?”

Juliette took advantage of the distraction to move farther into the living room. She didn’t want to go anywhere with Winston. He could tell her whatever it was she needed to know right there.

Winston turned away from her. His voice dipped lower.
Who was he talking to and why was he trying to keep it a secret?
Juliette tried to listen in on his conversation. But the voice on the other end was muffled and Winston was only offering vague answers to the conversation.

“Winston?” she called and he jerked around at the sound of her voice. “Who is it?”

“Nothing,” he mouthed and into the phone he said, “I have to go.” He snapped the phone shut and turned to the door.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. I’ve got something to take care of. You know how politics is. No rest for the weary when you’re on the campaign trail.”

He pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, shutting it behind him before she even had a chance to say goodbye.

Chapter 21: The Fallout

Juliette spent the morning coming up with creative ways that she could bail on her lunch date with Courtney. She wasn’t ready to face Ty’s new fiancée. It was cruel and unusual punishment, really. And yet, she couldn’t afford to let on that the engagement bothered her.

Not that it made her feel any better about her current situation. So she finally gave in and resorted to the age old excuse of, “I’m sick.”
That darn twenty-four hour flu bug was a real bitch.
Thankfully, when she called Courtney to cancel she got her voicemail. The girl hadn’t called back yet—another small miracle.

Then Juliette resorted to her godmother’s tried-and-true cure for heartache: baking. She lined up a row of art deco canisters on the counter: Flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and cocoa. Then she pulled out her roommate’s bulky stand mixer. Margaret never minded when she borrowed her things. Especially if the end result was sinfully delicious eats.

She made cupcakes first. Two dozen chocolate and white with butter cream frosting and sprinkles. Then she started on the brownies. She didn’t know what she’d do with all these goodies. Perhaps hold a bake sale so she could make rent after Covington fired her. And he had just commented on how good she was doing. But she wasn’t doing well at all. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Courtney.

There was a knock at her door. Juliette froze, batter covered spatula in midair. Was that Courtney? Had she come to check on her? What was she going to say?

Juliette carefully balanced the spoon on the edge of the batter bowl and wiped her flour covered hands on the faded apron. She really needed to move to an apartment with better security. Maybe a street-level intercom that required uninvited guests to be buzzed into the building.

Juliette didn’t bother looking through the peephole. It had not once prevented her from opening the door and coming face to face with her mysterious visitors. Plus she didn’t want to get flour all over the back of the door. So she used the clean edge of her apron to turn the knob.

“Can I come in?” Tyler asked and her heart fell through her stomach. Her eyes drifted down the hallway for other onlookers. Sure, she lived in a converted townhouse with few neighbors, but it didn’t mean someone wouldn’t spot the senator. All she needed was another story about their alleged affair.

It’s only alleged because they haven’t proven it yet.

Right.

Juliette stepped aside and Ty crossed the threshold. He took the door from her and closed it gently behind him.

“Look,” Juliette started. “If this is about last night, I already told Winston I’m not interested.”

“What? Winston was here last night?”

So he hadn’t known. Which meant he most likely was not the mystery caller on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, he came by for a few minutes. You didn’t send him?”

“No. I did not.”

“Fine. Then why did you come here?”

“I thought that we should talk, you know. About the engagement.”

Juliette laughed. It came out bitter. “You think I want to talk about it? I have nothing to say. And it doesn’t really matter what I think, does it?”

“That’s not fair. You told me you weren’t interested. I said I would leave Courtney and you practically demanded that I keep the relationship going.”

“Well, I didn’t mean you should marry the girl.”

“I did what was necessary to keep the peace. I thought you’d be happy since you’ve become so invested in my political future.”

The timer on the oven dinged and Juliette turned to retrieve her cookies. She set the tray on top of the stove and let the oven door slam shut.

Ty reached for one of the cupcakes and she swatted his hand away with her dish towel. “Don’t you dare.”

“Are you planning on eating four-and-a-half dozen baked goods in the next twenty-four hours?”

“Baking helps me stay calm. You, on the other hand, bring me nothing but stress. And if you keep popping in and out of my life I am going to be making baked goods for the next ten years.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad.”

Juliette stared at him. He really had no idea. The way she felt when she was with him. The way her body relaxed at his touch, the way her heart leapt every time she stared into those deep blue eyes. He was her Achilles heel and he was destroying her one breathtaking kiss at a time.

“Do you love her?” Suddenly Juliette wanted to know.

Tyler was silent as he stared back at her.

“You do love her, right, Ty?”

“I only love one woman.” He moved a step closer and warning bells went off in her head.
This is how it starts. If he gets less than six inches away, you’re a goner.