destiny. And maybe…”
My voice drops off, and he frowns a little. “Maybe what?”
“I don’t know,” I say hesitantly, looking down at my feet.
“No, tell me.”
“It’s just… I can’t help but think…” The right words seem
lost to me. “If fate is preventing us from seeing each other anywhere but on this beach, then maybe after I save you, we can see each other beyond this beach.”
I almost don’t dare look up at him. When I do, he watches
me as if trying to understand. “You mean, you think we’d be
able to travel into each other’s times?”
My face warms. “It’s a stupid thought.”
Lawrence’s voice is gentle. “No, it isn’t.”
“It is. Time travel is impossible.”
“And yet, here we are, a hundred years apart and in each
other’s arms.”
A thrill of energy passes through me, and our eyes meet.
“What if you’re right?” he says. “Do you know what it would
mean?”
“It means that you and I could be…”
“Together,” he says softly, lifting my hand to interlock with
his own. “Truly together. With nothing keeping us apart.”
Chapter 2o
Lawrence
f I could, I’d spend every one of my five days left—
I
every spare minute—on that beach with Cassandra.
She’s like a tonic to me, healing all of my fears. I want to sit
with her, basking in her warmth and beauty. But life, unfortunately, moves on. And I have to present the appearance of normalcy to those around me. One of them being Charles.
I agreed forever ago to meet him at the club today. I’d back out, if not for the sobering thought that this might be the last
time I see him. So, somewhat grudgingly, I dress for the day
and head out to the sunny acres of Crest Harbor’s most exclusive country club.
Charles is waiting for me at the bar when I arrive. Naturally.
Sharp in a white linen suit, he sips a Bloody Mary and eyes a
nearby table of well-heeled club girls. They peer up from under
the brims of their cloche hats and giggle to each other.
“Too pretty for you,” I say to Charles as I grab the bar stool next to him.
“Quiet,” he mutters. “I think I almost have them fooled.”
But just then, the girls rise conspicuously from their table
and glide out to the veranda. A moment before they go, the tall, dark-eyed girl, the beauty of the group, glances over her
shoulder with a challenging look directed at me, raising her
eyebrow with a smirk. Then they breeze out.
Charles punches me in the arm. “What’s the big idea, Lon?
Isn’t one dame enough for you?”
“Don’t blame me, Charlie boy. My mama gave me these good
looks. I didn’t ask for them.”
He harrumphs and then taps the bar. “Another of these,” he
says to the bartender. “And make it a double.”
“A little early to get bent, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m carpe-ing the diem.”
I put my arm around his shoulder and pull him away from
the bar. “Sounds good, only I need you to help me carpe it in
another way.”
“Whad’ya have in mind?”
“How does a little Grade A spying sound to you?”
A grin pricks at Charles’s mouth. “Why, Lonnie, you old
rascal. What are you up to?”
“You’ll see.”
We drive along the coast, Charles gabbing my ear off about
the latest girl he’s going to woo. I try my best to be myself,
but my hands are clammy on the steering wheel. I can see my
act isn’t working well. And as I pull into the grummier part of
town, Charles’s suspicions seem fully stoked.
“Say, where are we?”
I try to appear casual. “Cape Row.”
Charles turns a sharp look to me. “Cape Row? What do you
have in mind, Lon? Getting us killed for sport?”
“I already told you what I have in mind,” I say. “A little spying.”
“Spying on whom?”
“No one you know. Just some fella who works with my uncle.”
Charles frowns. “Sounds dull. Don’t tell me we’re on some
business errand for Ned.”