Taming of the Two

She set the magazine down again. “As opposed to who? Me or this magazine?”

He popped a cheese snack in his mouth and raised his eyebrows. “Guilty conscience?”

“Not at all. It just sounded as if you were accusing me of something and I was wondering what it was.”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t hmm me, what were you getting at? I never lie!”

“Never?”

She shook her head. “Absolutely never.”

“So if your sister asks if she looks fat in a certain pair of jeans—and you think she does—you tell her the truth, even if you think she does.”

Jeez, that situation had come up just last week. How did he know? “My sister isn’t fat.”

“I didn’t say she was. I only asked if you would tell her the truth if she wanted to know something like that.”

Kate sighed. “I said I was honest, I didn’t say I was mean.”

“Which is it? Are you honest all the time or not? If you’re honest all the time, then it’s inevitable that sometimes you’re going to have to be mean.”

“I think a person can be honest and tactful.”

He took a swig of his cola. “Most people aren’t.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t honestly say she’d never told a little white lie. Who could? But if she admitted that to him, he’d pounce on her.

So instead she decided to put the heat on him. “What about you? Do you lie?”

“Me?” He wasn’t biting. “Sure. All the time.”

She couldn’t believe he was admitting it. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.” He gave a nod. “Ask me if you look fat in those jeans.”

She felt the blood rush to her face. “No, thanks,” she said, then had to wonder if she could believe an admitted liar when he said he was telling the truth.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“I will.”

“But you don’t.”

“What?”

“You don’t look fat. You look amazing in those jeans. I noticed it as soon as I saw you this morning.”

Her face flushed again, only this time with foolish pride. Then she remembered the context of their conversation. “Oh, I see, this is one of your lies, right? You got me.”

“No, that was the truth. But even if you looked like an elephant in spandex, I wouldn’t say that to you.”

“Thanks.” She frowned. “I think.”

He popped the last cheese snack into his mouth and crumpled the plastic bag. “You’re welcome.” He tossed the bag neatly into the trash can from a distance of about ten feet.

She watched him for a minute. “I don’t get you, Ben.”

He looked surprised. “What’s to get?”

She looked into his warm brown eyes and tried to figure out who he was underneath it all. She couldn’t even guess.

Before she could answer him, there was a key at the door and they both sprang to their feet, Ben wiping crumbs from his shirt and Kate folding the magazine neatly into its original shape.

They waited for what seemed like ages until the door finally creaked open and the familiar face of old Mr. Warner peered in.

He shrieked upon seeing Ben and Kate, then held his hand to his chest and asked, “What in tarnation are you two doing in here?”

“We got locked in,” Kate explained. “I’m so sorry if we startled you.”

“You didn’t startle me,” the old man said, but his pink cheeks told another story. “I just…that is…what in blazes were you doing here in the first place?”

“Someone told us we had phone messages up here,” Ben said.

Mr. Warner looked skeptical. “Since when do the Deveres and the Gregorys get their phone calls in the track shop?”

It did sound foolish, Kate had to concede. “Someone told us that was the case,” she said. “Of course it didn’t sound right, but we came to check in case there was an emergency at home. Turns out someone was just playing some sort of prank on us so they could lock us in.” She would kill Bianca. She would kill her gladly.

Mr. Warner tightened his lips into a thin line and looked from Ben to Kate and back again, before saying, “Get on out of here, you two. Before I take inventory and charge you for all the junk food you’ve been eating.” He looked at Ben. “I’m talking to you, Mr. Devere.”

Ben smiled. “Put it on my tab.”

“Indeed I will.”

Kate watched the exchange with something like admiration. Ben had always had the gift of being at ease with people, no matter how much older or crankier they were. He was a charmer, no doubt about it.

Fortunately she was long over falling for his brand of charm.

“You doing all right?” he asked her seriously when at last they emerged into the main building.

“I’m fine,” she said, humiliated beyond words that she had made the mistake of showing her weakness to him. But that was the definition of weakness, at least of her particular brand of claustrophobia; there was no hiding it. “Thanks.

“So I guess…” Their ordeal over, she wasn’t sure how to leave things. “I’ll see you later.”

He nodded. “By the way, Kate?”

“Hmm?”