Lie, Lie Again(67)

“Thank you. But I’ll be okay.” She looked away from his probing brown eyes, urging her mind to work quickly. “Here’s the thing,” she stated slowly. “It was my fault too. I discovered he was married. And,” she said, taking a breath, “he has a baby. A brand-new baby.”

“Oh, shit. What a prick.”

“That’s a nice description of him.” She smiled before soldiering on. “He was afraid I’d tell his wife.”

“But you didn’t?” His eyes were wide.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Why, indeed,” she said. “Karma?”

He laughed a big, genuine, contagious laugh.

She blinked innocently. It was a look she’d mastered over the years. “What? You don’t believe in karma?”

“Yeah, no. I don’t know.” He grinned. “I like you. You may think that’s weird for me to come right out and say, but after my divorce, I promised myself I wouldn’t dick around ever again. I like you and would love to take you to dinner. Are you free tomorrow night? I know it’s last-minute, but I have my daughter back Saturday morning.”

She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I don’t know.”

He shifted in his chair and looked down, just as she hoped he would. The trick was to make him worry her answer would be no. It would make her ultimate yes that much sweeter. Holding up her bandaged wrist, she said, “This is what happens when I venture out in the rain. Are you willing to take on that kind of responsibility? I mean, I’m insured, but there’s a risk involved.”

He laughed again. “I’ll take the risk. I’ll valiantly protect you. But it could stop raining for good by then, you know.”

She nodded. “Very well, then. It’s a date.” With a bright smile, she capped her coffee and stood. “I’d better go. Maybe I’ll see you at work.”

“Bye, Sylvia.”

She could feel him watching her as she walked to the door. It was nice to know that he liked her already. To be fair, she liked what she knew about him too. Though in the scheme of things, it didn’t matter. He would only serve as a means to an end. The idea she’d had earlier was now glimmering brightly. It was time to get what she wanted.



Riki hunched over her phone, typing quickly. It was only 8:05—twenty minutes before the school day officially started—and with any luck, Sylvia or Embry would respond right away.

Hi, guys, did you see the sign? Jonathan full on LIED to us about selling the place. I should’ve known. Do you think he’s going to force us to move? I’m trying not to freak out.

She held her phone in hand, watching for a response. The door suddenly swung open, and she looked up to see Jeremy shuffling in, holding his leprechaun trap in both hands as if it were a special cake in a pink bakery box. Mrs. Tau followed, wearing a proud smile. “Hi, Miss McFarlan! Is it okay if we leave his project here before he goes up to the blacktop? He worked so hard on it, and I’d hate for it to get broken up there.”

“Sure,” Riki said, walking toward them. “I told the kids yesterday they could drop them off here before school starts.” She smiled at Jeremy. “Wow! I love the way you added a second story with the smaller box. That must’ve taken you a long time.” Her phone trilled with a text alert. She itched to check it, but this was more important at the moment.

Jeremy beamed and gently touched a finger to the top of his project. “It’s the trap part! The stick holds it up right here, and when the leprechaun touches the stick, it’ll fall and trap him!”

“That’s so cool! Excellent creativity. Go ahead and set it on the horseshoe table. At the end of the day, I’ll have all of you bring your traps to your desks.”

He eased his masterpiece onto the table, careful not to topple it. That’s what the project was all about—allowing the kids to feel proud of something they’d made.

A clattering sounded outside, and seconds later, Mrs. Trainor burst into the classroom hauling a red wagon burdened with a wooden contraption rivaling a Barbie Dream House. It was green and glittery with a flagpole perched on top bearing the Irish flag.

Darcy followed, a stuffed whale in hand. “Be careful, Mom.”

“I’ve got it, hon. Don’t worry.” She stopped by the horseshoe table. “Whoa. This was quite a challenge to get up here. But we did it!”

Jeremy stood back, his eyes wide. “That’s your leprechaun trap?”

Darcy shrugged. “Yeah.” She pointed to Jeremy’s, whose trap suddenly looked very rudimentary. “Is that yours?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “It’s kind of small.”

Mrs. Trainor wore a condescending smile. “Darcy’s has a very elaborate trapping feature,” she said, hoisting the leprechaun palace from the wagon. “Shoot. This is heavy. Can I have some help, Darcy?” Her voice had a sudden edge.

Darcy rushed to her side, but not before the trap wobbled from Mrs. Trainor’s hands and crashed into Jeremy’s trap, tumbling it to a chair before it toppled to the ground, where it landed in two pieces.

“No!” Jeremy screamed as he and his mom scrambled to collect the broken parts.

“Whoops! That didn’t go as planned.” Mrs. Trainor checked to make sure Darcy’s trap hadn’t suffered any damage. “Good news. It’s okay.” She straightened her already pristine sweater. “This leprechaun business is going to be the end of me.” She frowned at Jeremy, whose face was wet with tears. He held a piece of broken trap in his hand. “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure Miss McFarlan has some tape. Actually, I have some double-sided tape in my purse from when I fixed Darcy’s bow this morning. If you have some glitter, Miss McFarlan, we can spruce up Jeremy’s little trap and make it look even better.”