before they say something a little bit naughty.”
Pauline chuckled. “I was thinking how some of my best advice fits with the little surprise I gave you,” she said with a glance down at her chest. “And that is for you to always be truthful to Kyle, and for him to be truthful to you. Falsehoods and little white lies never lead to anything good. And be careful when you decide what’s false and what isn’t. Sometimes things and even people aren’t what they seem.”
—
Late Sunday afternoon, Emily sat on the staircase in the McAllister mansion with the briefcase on her lap. Before closing Turner’s for the day, she had called the Home Depot in Rutland. Unfortunately and somewhat surprisingly, like the little hardware store where she worked, it had no lock-pick sets in stock. She was set on opening the case, though, particularly after her encounter with Matt. Despite the fact that she had three new pedestal sinks to install in various bathrooms, despite the painting of the recently installed drywall that needed to be done, she had been tinkering with the briefcase for the better part of an hour.
Her toolbox sat open on the floor, where a hammer and a chisel tempted her from the top tray.
I could just break it open and tell Ruth I found it that way,
she thought. But she resisted. In addition to her love of all things old and vintage, she had always hated dishonesty. It made her feel fake and ashamed to lie about anything. Even her decision to delay telling Ruth about the briefcase was beginning to weigh on her, so outright lying to her employer and longtime family friend was out of the question.
Emily sighed and stared at the briefcase balanced across her knees. If she ordered a lock-pick kit online, she would probably receive it within a week, possibly sooner with expedited shipping. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the card Matt had left for her. Maybe she shouldn’t have rebuffed him. She could have squelched her indecision, batted her eyelashes, and accepted his terms. If she had, she would have already found out what was in the briefcase, and she might have a date scheduled as well—what would have been her first date in years. Given the fact that she was on pins and needles about the contents of an old briefcase, she probably needed a date. Or
something
exciting.
For a few minutes, Emily turned the card around and around in her hands, thinking. Then she set the briefcase on one of the steps and stood up. In one corner of the room was a trash bag into which she had been putting used sandpaper and other refuse generated from her renovations. She ripped the business card into tiny pieces and added them to the bag.
I’ll just order the lock-pick kit through Turner’s and wait for it to arrive,
she thought. In the meantime, there was work to be done.
Emily was in an upstairs bathroom, hooking up the pipes to one of the new pedestal sinks, when she heard a man’s voice calling to her from the back door in the kitchen. Still holding a large pipe wrench, she hurried downstairs to find Matt in the doorway.
“How did you find me?” she asked as he stepped into the house and shut the door behind him. She noticed that he held the lock-pick kit in one hand.
“I went by your house, looking for you. Your aunt was on her front porch across the street and told me you were up here working.” He spoke quickly, the words tumbling out. “Look,” he said, “I feel bad about what I said earlier. It was pretty assholish of me to condition my helping you on a date. I don’t know what I was trying to do—be funny, I guess—but the more I thought about it afterward, the more I realized what a dumb move that was.”
Emily squinted at him, trying to believe what she was hearing. When she remained silent, Matt hurriedly continued. “I’d be happy to open the briefcase for you. No strings or conditions.”
Silently, she looked at him for a few moments longer and then shrugged. “Fine. I’ve got it in
Pauline chuckled. “I was thinking how some of my best advice fits with the little surprise I gave you,” she said with a glance down at her chest. “And that is for you to always be truthful to Kyle, and for him to be truthful to you. Falsehoods and little white lies never lead to anything good. And be careful when you decide what’s false and what isn’t. Sometimes things and even people aren’t what they seem.”
—
Late Sunday afternoon, Emily sat on the staircase in the McAllister mansion with the briefcase on her lap. Before closing Turner’s for the day, she had called the Home Depot in Rutland. Unfortunately and somewhat surprisingly, like the little hardware store where she worked, it had no lock-pick sets in stock. She was set on opening the case, though, particularly after her encounter with Matt. Despite the fact that she had three new pedestal sinks to install in various bathrooms, despite the painting of the recently installed drywall that needed to be done, she had been tinkering with the briefcase for the better part of an hour.
Her toolbox sat open on the floor, where a hammer and a chisel tempted her from the top tray.
I could just break it open and tell Ruth I found it that way,
she thought. But she resisted. In addition to her love of all things old and vintage, she had always hated dishonesty. It made her feel fake and ashamed to lie about anything. Even her decision to delay telling Ruth about the briefcase was beginning to weigh on her, so outright lying to her employer and longtime family friend was out of the question.
Emily sighed and stared at the briefcase balanced across her knees. If she ordered a lock-pick kit online, she would probably receive it within a week, possibly sooner with expedited shipping. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the card Matt had left for her. Maybe she shouldn’t have rebuffed him. She could have squelched her indecision, batted her eyelashes, and accepted his terms. If she had, she would have already found out what was in the briefcase, and she might have a date scheduled as well—what would have been her first date in years. Given the fact that she was on pins and needles about the contents of an old briefcase, she probably needed a date. Or
something
exciting.
For a few minutes, Emily turned the card around and around in her hands, thinking. Then she set the briefcase on one of the steps and stood up. In one corner of the room was a trash bag into which she had been putting used sandpaper and other refuse generated from her renovations. She ripped the business card into tiny pieces and added them to the bag.
I’ll just order the lock-pick kit through Turner’s and wait for it to arrive,
she thought. In the meantime, there was work to be done.
Emily was in an upstairs bathroom, hooking up the pipes to one of the new pedestal sinks, when she heard a man’s voice calling to her from the back door in the kitchen. Still holding a large pipe wrench, she hurried downstairs to find Matt in the doorway.
“How did you find me?” she asked as he stepped into the house and shut the door behind him. She noticed that he held the lock-pick kit in one hand.
“I went by your house, looking for you. Your aunt was on her front porch across the street and told me you were up here working.” He spoke quickly, the words tumbling out. “Look,” he said, “I feel bad about what I said earlier. It was pretty assholish of me to condition my helping you on a date. I don’t know what I was trying to do—be funny, I guess—but the more I thought about it afterward, the more I realized what a dumb move that was.”
Emily squinted at him, trying to believe what she was hearing. When she remained silent, Matt hurriedly continued. “I’d be happy to open the briefcase for you. No strings or conditions.”
Silently, she looked at him for a few moments longer and then shrugged. “Fine. I’ve got it in
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