Never Lie (36)

He smiles in approval. I bought the robe because it’s warm, but it has the added bonus of being red. I swear I didn’t consider that when I purchased it, but perhaps subconsciously I did.

The contents of the refrigerator are even more abysmal than I feared. I have a loaf of bread, but when Luke picks it up, there’s green mold growing at the bottom. There’s a bottle of ketchup. There’s dry pasta in one of the cupboards, but no pasta sauce. Only ketchup.

“I eat out a lot,” I say apologetically.

“I would hope so.”

He opens another cupboard and finds a package of only slightly stale saltines and some peanut butter. It’s not exactly the dinner of champions, but it will do. I have a pack of water bottles at the bottom of the fridge, and I retrieve one for myself and hand the other to Luke, who is busy making peanut butter and saltine sandwiches.

“Sorry,” I say.

“Don’t be sorry.” He pauses to lick peanut butter off the butter knife. “This was my favorite meal from ages seven through ten.”

I smiled to myself, imagining Luke as a freckle-faced second grader. “I bet you were a cute kid.”

“I was,” he assures me. He slides one of the saltine peanut butter sandwiches over to me. I take a bite—it tastes about as you would think it would. “I didn’t become a handful until I was a teenager.”

I arch an eyebrow. “You gave your parents a hard time? That’s hard to imagine.”

He licks some peanut butter off his upper lip. “Not exactly. I got into some trouble though. Legal trouble.”

“Legal trouble? Really?”

He hesitates as if considering lying about it even though he just told me it was true. I’m sure Luke Strauss has a tell, but I haven’t found it yet. “Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Hacking.” He winces. “I thought I was so smart… until I got caught. I got in a shitload of trouble. Luckily, I was a minor and my parents got me a good lawyer. I just did community service and they made sure it didn’t end up on my permanent record.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.”

“Impressed that I was a hacker? Or impressed that I stayed out of jail?”

“Both. But mostly, the first.” I crumble a bit of cracker under my fingertips. “Can you still do it?”

“Do what?”

“Hack into computers.”

He chuckles. “Maybe, but we are not going to find out. Nobody will ever hire you to do any legit computer work if you get caught doing something like that. I’m old enough to know not to take any stupid chances like that anymore.”

I already knew Luke was skilled with computers. But this is an interesting piece of information. I file it away in my brain for later.

“I bet you were perfect when you were a kid,” he comments. “I bet you were the kind of kid that every adult was in love with. A teacher's pet—am I right?”

“Not exactly.”

His left eyebrow arches up. “Is that so?”

“A lot of teachers don’t like you,” I say, “when you’re smarter than they are.”

Luke stares at me for a second, then he chuckles. “Yeah, I’ll just bet you were.”

I’m pleased that he found my assertion amusing rather than arrogant. It is, after all, simply a fact. Very early on, my intellect exceeded everyone who was tasked to teach me. And a lot of adults indeed resent a child who is smarter than they are.

A lot of parents do as well.

I brace myself for more questions about my childhood and family, but they never come. Instead, we sit quietly in my kitchen, chewing our saltine peanut butter sandwiches. Even if I wanted to make conversation, it would be hard with all the peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth. Perhaps that is why Luke stopped asking questions and not out of respect for my privacy. He looks around the house as we eat, a slightly amazed look on his face.

“Big place you got here,” he finally says.

“Yes, it’s just me.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “I didn’t ask.”

“You didn’t have to.” I drum my fingers against the kitchen table. “People look at this house and assume I must live here with a husband and children. And when I defy that expectation, it upsets them. People dislike when things don’t meet their expectations.”

“Well,” he says, “I want you to know that you exceed my expectations.”

I allow myself a smile. “Do I?”

“You do. And also, I’m pretty glad you don’t have a husband. Obviously.”

I shift my weight in the wooden kitchen chair. “How about you? You told me you used to be married.”

It’s amazing the way Luke completely shuts down when I bring up his previous marriage. That’s exactly what happened when I was trying to interview him earlier. His eyes wall off and his lips set into a straight line. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I see.”

He’s not being fair. He’s thirty-six years old and a widower. He must realize that such a revelation is enough to make people wonder. How do you lose your wife at such a young age?

He sees my expression and lets out a sigh. “She was in an accident. It was… awful. And I hope this doesn’t sound cold, but it’s honestly the last thing I want to think about when I’m here with you.”