A woman hires a housekeeper to care for her aging parents only to watch as she takes over their lives in this riveting novel from the New York Times bestselling author Samantha M. Bailey calls an ingenious master of domestic suspense.

ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR: Reader s Digest

In the end, I have only myself to blame. I m the one who let her in.

Jodi Bishop knows success. She s the breadwinner, a top-notch real estate agent. Her husband, Harrison . . . not so much. Once, he had big dreams. But now, he s a middling writer who resents his wife s success.

Jodi s father, Vic, now in his late seventies and retired, is a very controlling man. His wife, Audrey, was herself no shrinking violet. But things changed when Audrey developed Parkinson s ten years ago and Vic retired to devote himself to her care. But while still reasonably spry and rakishly handsome, Vic is worn down by his wife s deteriorating condition.

Exhausted from trying to balance her career, her family, and her parents needs, Jodi starts interviewing housekeepers to help care for Audrey and Vic. She settles on Elyse Woodley, an energetic and attractive widow in her early sixties, who seems perfect for the job. While Vic is initially resistant, he soon warms to Elyse s sunny personality and engaging ways.

And Jodi is pleased to have an ally, someone she can talk to and occasionally even confide in. Until . . .

She shuts Jodi out. And Audrey s condition worsens rapidly. Who is this woman suddenly wearing her mother s jewelry? What is she after? And how far will she go to get it?

Autorentext

Joy Fielding is the New York Times bestselling author of All the Wrong Places, The Bad Daughter, She’s Not There, Someone Is Watching, Charley’s Web, Heartstopper, Mad River Road, See Jane Run, and other acclaimed novels. She divides her time between Toronto and Palm Beach, Florida.

Klappentext

A woman hires a housekeeper to care for her aging parents-only to watch as she takes over their lives in this riveting novel from the New York Times bestselling author called "an ingenious master of domestic suspense" (Samantha M. Bailey).

In the end, I have only myself to blame. I'm the one who let her in.

Jodi Bishop knows success. She's the breadwinner, a top-notch real estate agent. Her husband, Harrison . . . not so much. Once, he had big dreams. But now, he's a middling writer who resents his wife's success.

Jodi's father, Vic, now in his late seventies and retired, is a very controlling man. His wife, Audrey, was herself no shrinking violet. But things changed when Audrey developed Parkinson's ten years ago, and Vic retired to devote himself to her care. But while still reasonably spry and rakishly handsome, Vic is worn down by his wife's deteriorating condition.

Exhausted from trying to balance her career, her family, and her parents' needs, Jodi starts interviewing housekeepers to help care for Audrey and Vic. She settles on Elyse Woodley, an energetic and attractive widow in her early sixties, who seems perfect for the job. While Vic is initially resistant, he soon warms to Elyse's sunny personality and engaging ways.

And Jodi is pleased to have an ally, someone she can talk to and occasionally even confide in. Until . . .

She shuts Jodi out. And Audrey's condition worsens-rapidly. Who is this woman suddenly wearing her mother's jewelry? What is she after? And how far will she go to get it?

Zusammenfassung
A woman hires a housekeeper to care for her aging parents—only to watch as she takes over their lives in this riveting novel from the New York Times bestselling author Samantha M. Bailey calls “an ingenious master of domestic suspense.”

In the end, I have only myself to blame. I’m the one who let her in.

Jodi Bishop knows success. She’s the breadwinner, a top-notch real estate agent. Her husband, Harrison . . . not so much. Once, he had big dreams. But now, he’s a middling writer who resents his wife’s success.

Jodi’s father, Vic, now in his late seventies and retired, is a very controlling man. His wife, Audrey, was herself no shrinking violet. But things changed when Audrey developed Parkinson’s ten years ago and Vic retired to devote himself to her care. But while still reasonably spry and rakishly handsome, Vic is worn down by his wife’s deteriorating condition.

Exhausted from trying to balance her career, her family, and her parents’ needs, Jodi starts interviewing housekeepers to help care for Audrey and Vic. She settles on Elyse Woodley, an energetic and attractive widow in her early sixties, who seems perfect for the job. While Vic is initially resistant, he soon warms to Elyse’s sunny personality and engaging ways.

And Jodi is pleased to have an ally, someone she can talk to and occasionally even confide in. Until . . .

She shuts Jodi out. And Audrey’s condition worsens—rapidly. Who is this woman suddenly wearing her mother’s jewelry? What is she after? And how far will she go to get it?

Leseprobe
Chapter One

It’s my fault.

I’m the one who first brought up the idea, who championed it, who set the ball rolling, and who ultimately insisted on hiring her. My father was adamantly opposed to the idea, my mother ambivalent at best, my sister as indifferent as always. Only my husband, Harrison, thought it was a good idea, and only because he hoped it would take some of the strain off me.

“You do too much,” he was always saying. Followed by, “There are things you can control and things you can’t. You can’t be all things to all people. Concentrate on our family. Let the rest go.”
He was right, of course. Except it wasn’t that easy to just let the rest go. And try as I might, I couldn’t help hearing the unstated corollary: If only you’d put half the effort and energy into our house . . . our children . . . our marriage, as you do into your parents . . . your sister . . . your career . . .

Forget that it was precisely that career that not only covered our mortgage, but paid all the bills, thus allowing him the luxury of working full-­time, and without any noticeable remuneration, on his latest novel.

I say “latest,” although it’s been almost a decade since his first novel was published. To great acclaim, I might add. But still . . . If I sold only one house every ten years, I think I might be tempted to try my hand at something else.

To this, Harrison would undoubtedly point out that writing is more a calling than a career, rather like the priesthood, and nothing at all like selling real estate in an overheated, overpriced market. This would likely be followed by “It’s not easy to create anything of value with two young children underfoot.”

This last argument might hold more merit were it not for the fact that our son, Samuel, who is eight, is in school most of the day, and our daughter, Daphne, age three, is in daycare. True, Harrison is sometimes tasked with putting them to bed when I have an evening showing, or entertaining them when I have weekend appointments. Selling real estate isn’t exactly a nine-­to-five profession. Rather like writing, I’m tempted to say.

But, of course, I don’t, because it would likely lead to a confrontation. And I hate confrontations.
“The male ego is a fragile thing,” my mother once told me. And she would know. She was married to my father—­never the easiest of men—­for almost fifty years.

Not that my mother was any shrinking violet. She gave as good as she got, and thei…