On Commission
“THE FUNNY THING IS, I think of myself as an honest person.”
“Do you?” the girl behind the counter asked, though she didn’t seem to care. And why would she? She was selling jewellery, not marriage counselling.
“Yes, I really do,” Alan replied with a vigorous nod. He traced his finger around the outside edge of the glass case, leaving absentminded fingerprints in his wake. “I mean, I value honesty. That must count for something.”
“Of course.” With a polishing cloth, she buffed his smudges until the glass gleamed. It shone almost as lustrously as the treasures housed inside the case.
“Sorry to lay all this on you,” Alan rambled. “I have a throbbing need to confess my sins, but I can never seem to tell these things to the one person who deserves to know. Isn’t that just
