Page 56 of My Turkish Fling
Janie had made up her mind, and I had to respect that. If I told my brother about us, I might ruin any chance I had with her, and nothing was worth that risk.
“You saying someone picked the lock?” Cem examined the door, eyebrows drawn.
“That’s the only explanation I have. Plus, you can see the faintscratches on the metal.” I guided him to look at the other side.
I freed the new deadbolt from its packaging and got the power drill ready. It wasn’t very powerful but when fully charged, it had just enough kick for ten minutes. Maybe something to upgrade within the next year or so, I thought before catching myself. I couldn’t think that far ahead.
Cem peered in, confusion clouding his eyes. “Why go through the trouble? A house in the middle of nowhere, no witnesses… It’d be so much faster to just break one of the million windows.”
“I know. I agree. And I can’t explain it.”
And it bothered me.
Somehow, if it had been a simple smash and grab with the telltale mess and missing valuables, I could have breathed easier. Something about this felt personal and sinister. And the more I thought about flying back to Turkey and leaving Janie here, by herself, the worse I felt.
“I’m glad you’re looking out for her.” Cem held the door as I marked the placement for the new lock above the old one. “I didn’t even know you could do this yourself.”
“Why not? Seems to be the way in this country. DIY.”
I kept seeing that advertised everywhere, like it was a great privilege to do everything yourself.
I’d never installed a lock before, but I didn’t want Janie to spend money on a locksmith when she was already struggling. A couple of YouTube videos had told me the basics. The lock packet even came with a paper template to show you where to drill. If only everything else in life had been that straightforward. Follow theinstruction to a guaranteed outcome.
The only thing I didn’t have were safety goggles, but once we got to drilling the larger hole for the cylinder, Cem lent me his designer shades.
“You’re adapting to the ways of the country,” Cem mused. “You look more at home here than I do, and I’ve been shooting a film here for two months, and I’m marrying a local.”
“You mean I look at home doing maintenance?”
Cem folded his arms. “No, I mean… you look different. Something’s different…”
He leaned in to establish eye contact, as if I was hiding something. Which I was, obviously, but I fixed him with my best scowl.
“Or maybe not.” He shrugged.
My face hurt from frowning. Was that what I’d been doing before? The headaches were starting to make more sense.
“I didn’t say it was bad, different.” Cem’s voice was thoughtful as he handed me the power drill. “You seem more relaxed. Happier.”
“Just keeping up appearances. It’s the Kiwi way.”
“Well, if you’re doing it for me and Aria, we appreciate it. I was worried about you getting along with Janie. She seems so—”
“What?” I ground out between lips holding two screws.
“So… bubbly. Friendly. I thought that might not mix too well with yours truly. I was worried you’d end up offending her.”
“You think I’m that obnoxious?” I asked, knowing full well that I was. I had been, at least.
“No,” Cem said, to my surprise. “You have a good heart, deepdown. Way, way down. And she’s probably figured that out, judging by the way she looks at you.”
My head whipped around embarrassingly fast. “What do you mean?” I turned back to the lock, deliberately slowing my movements. “I mean… how do you think she looks at me?”
Way to sound less needy, man.
Cem chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you like her.”
Just like him to not answer the question. He’d make me beg and reveal all my cards.
