Dirty Little Liars by Missy Lynn Ryan

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