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The moment snapped and I came back to reality, but it was too late. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the words had spilled out.
I cleared my throat, trying to rise but she pressed down on my shoulder and sank to her knees beside me.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, her eyes downcast as she circled her thumb over the back of my hand. “I loved you then, too. That night when we met.” She looked up at me, her eyes full of so much emotion. “I would love to be your wife.”
Keely eyed me as I slid the safety deposit box toward me with a huff. It was covered in dust and all kinds of grime.
“I can’t believe you proposed to that woman without a ring,” she chided, clicking her tongue. “And after giving George so much shit about the ceremony of engagements—”
“Me and your man,” I began, keeping my eyes on the box as I fumbled with the little brass key, “spent two days in his shop going over how he was going to do it. I had to pretend to be you, you know. George deserved a little shit for that, especially since he got nervous and went off script.”
I could feel Keely rolling her eyes behind me, but my focus was on the lockbox.
“Did you really never open it?” she asked, standing on her tiptoes to peer over my shoulder as I unlocked it.
“Nope,” I replied gruffly. “I don’t think anything is in here. Mom’s buried with her ring on.” I hesitated, suddenly finding the whole errand pointless.
“Oh, just open it.”
“Don’t say anything to anyone about this yet,” I hissed, then popped the box open.
Keely inhaled sharply. I didn’t blame her. Rolls of cash were stacked neatly throughout the box.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Were our parents drug dealers?”
“Keely, shut up,” I breathed, moving some of the money out the way to get to a small velvet bag. It was heavy but didn’t feel quite right. I lifted it up and weighed it in my hands.
“I’m honestly afraid to look,” she said, then glanced down at the cash. “What if I was right, and there’s like… bones of their enemies inside—”
“I will kick you out of here,” I cut in, then sucked in my breath and opened the bag.
Loose gems rolled out into my open palm. Rubies and garnets, a few sapphires.
And a diamond as big as the tip of my forefinger.
“I am convinced,” Keely said breathlessly, obviously in shock, “that our parents were—”
“Okay, fine, you might be right.” I chuckled. “But Dad was into that weird rock-collecting stuff. I’m pretty sure I still have his rock tumbler. That could explain this.”
Keely reached around me and grabbed a manilla folder, dry and crinkled with age.
“Pete?” she asked softly as I continued to look through the gems. “This is a will.”
“What?” I turned to face her.
“It’s a will, look,” she handed me the papers and my heart almost stopped beating.
When our parents died it had been an accident, totally unexpected. Overnight, I became the owner of the bar and the building it resided in. I’d sold our family home and split theprofits with Keely, which allowed her to finish school and travel like she’d wanted to.
We’d never been able to find a will, and parents had always been modest people. They had an old house, old cars, so on and so forth.
But finding cold, hard cash and gems was something neither of us had expected.
I read over the single piece of paper and my jaw dropped to the floor. Dad had put all of his savings into this box two years before he died. Before that, he kept everything in a shoe box under his bed. We’d found roughly ten grand under there and assumed that was it. But this…
“Dad not trusting the bank doesn’t surprise me,” she said softly, glancing at the cash and gems.
“This is a lot of money, Keely,” I whispered.
