Page 52 of Protecting You
She had no idea how to play this. She couldn’t give him what he wanted. And she couldn’tnotgive him what he wanted.
Despite the ergonomic chair, the cozy space, and the cheerful spring garden outside, there was nothing comfortable about this.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Pretending to be normal could be exhausting.
Callan was running out of questions, and Molly the pretend housekeeper wasn’t exactly a riveting conversationalist.
He cataloged the house as they moved through it. They’d already toured the first floor—updated kitchen, dining room, living room, family room, and sunroom. He’d taken note of multiple phone chargers plugged into outlets and at least three sets of car keys hanging from a set of hooks near a side door. Glasses and dirty dishes in the kitchen sink confirmed that Molly was no housekeeper.
On the second floor, she showed him to a bedroom that faced the rear. It had a queen-sized bed so high off the floor that a little step stool had been left against one side. White linens, pale green paint on the walls. Heavy antiques everywhere.
“This is your room,” Molly said.
He stepped in and looked around. “Where’re our suitcases?”
“I’ll have Benson bring them up right away.”
Benson—whoever that was—was likely searching them first.
“This way.” She continued down the hallway, and he followed her, peeking into other rooms on the same end of the house—two more bedrooms with four-poster beds, fancy wallpaper, and multicolored Persian rugs. There were a couple of closed doors she didn’t explain. He guessed they were bedrooms being occupied by Ghazi and his people.
Between the doorways, the walls were covered in artwork with thick, heavy frames. He stopped to study one, spying a tiny camera on the top corner.
One camera meant many cameras, just as he’d suspected.
Though they’d only seen half that floor, she didn’t take him to the other end but up to the third story, where there were still more bedrooms and more closed doors.
All the spaces were perfectly decorated.
The bathrooms had updated fixtures and original claw-foot tubs.
They didn’t see anyone else during the tour. Where were all the people who belonged to those cell phone chargers and car keys?
Aside from the size of the place, the property had likely been chosen because of its proximity to Boston, the secured gate at the driveway, and the thick hedge that shielded the house from view.
He paused at the doorway to the largest third-floor bedroom he could see. Wood panels, bookshelves, fancy bed with a navy-blue comforter. He’d swear the wallpaper wasn’t actually paper but some kind of fabric.
Ostentatious to the point of ridiculous.
But he grinned. “This is the one I’d choose.”
“Except there’s only one bathroom on this floor,” she said. “I think this floor was originally built for the staff.”
“Makes sense. Is one of these rooms yours?”
“I don’t live here.”
“Oh, really? I just assumed. Which room would you choose, then, if you could have any of them?”
The question garnered her first real smile. “None. Can you imagine having to clean this place?”
“Isn’t that what you do, as the housekeeper?”
Her smile faded. “He has staff for that. I manage them.”
“Oh, I see. That’s the problem. You get a property like this, how much does it cost to keep up? I’m happy with my little two-bedroom apartment, though after Alyssa and I get married, we’ll probably buy a house. She comes from money.”
