by Julie Drew
Sam considered before he spoke. “Because what the three of us talked about at Dodie’s all those years ago—last night, for you and Finn—is true, and I think right. We have an obligation not to interfere, as much as we’re able to, at least. What would have happened if I’d told you? Would you have stopped Finn? Would you have taken no pictures, or different ones? Would you have decided not to send the album? So many choices, and all of them seem so small, but we can’t know the ripple effect they might create.”
Tesla missed a step, but Sam caught her when she stumbled and pulled her in close. She picked up the steps again, and he let her go.
“Finn and I were just talking about that,” she said. “I have so many questions about this—you’re right, the photo album isn’t important but other things are. I lie awake at night over some of them. I wonder what I could change—what I could fix—with this ability to move around in time.”
“Your mother?” Sam asked as the music stopped, and they stopped. The couples around them clapped and smiled, but Sam stood, his arm still around Tesla’s waist.
“My mother,” she said softly, so softly he barely heard her.
“Tesla,” he said, his voice somewhat strangled. When she looked up at him in surprise and noted with concern the inexplicably tortured look on his face, he immediately smiled at her. “Try to enjoy yourself,” he said.
She smiled a sad little smile and they made their way back to the table, where Lydia, Keisha, and Joley now sat with Finn.
“Tesla, you look lovely,” said Lydia as they approached the table.
“Thanks,” Tesla said, somewhat subdued.
Finn’s sharp eyes took in the change from the exuberance she’d displayed before she’d danced with Sam, and he didn’t like it. What he did like, however, was the discovery that as Sam had led Tesla out onto the dance floor he had not experienced that strange pull, the tightening in his chest he had begun to associate with her not being near him. Because that sounded like—well, like she had begun to mean more to him than he wanted. He had watched them dance, though, and while he didn’t especially like Sam, he had felt none of the pulse-quickening adrenaline rush he had before.
And that could mean only one thing: he was back, and with no annoying complications to contend with.
“You look great, too, Lydia,” Tesla said.
Startled out of his self-congratulatory thoughts, Finn really looked at his employer for the first time since they’d arrived. Lydia was dressed in a deep purple, full length sheath dress with some pale lavender, translucent material that floated all around her shoulders like some sort of gossamer wrap. She wore her hair styled, a little tastefully applied makeup, and diamond drop earrings that twinkled with each movement of her head. She was actually pretty, he thought.
“Thank you, dear,” said Lydia with genuine warmth. “It’s always nice to have a reason to dress and present one’s best face to the world. One brief bit of business, however,” she said, her words suddenly clipped and determined. “The jpeg files you sent me earlier today are with the analysts, along with Finnegan’s notes. When they have anything concrete to tell us about the drawings and the text you photographed, they’ll let us know. Have you destroyed the originals, like I asked? We can’t have copies of what may be sensitive information on your phone.”
“Yes, I deleted them right after I talked to you,” Tesla said quickly, though that was not quite true. Damn, she thought. I forgot. I’ll do it as soon as I get home tonight. The phone Lydia had given her was still in her messenger bag at the house, but Tesla had been so tired after the jump, so glad to be home, that she’d just fallen into bed and slept until Jane woke her up and told her it was time to go to Lydia’s and get ready for the party.
“Why aren’t you going, Aunt Jane?” Tesla had asked.
Jane had shrugged. “I’m not really in the mood for a social event tonight. I’ll stay here with Max, and after he goes to bed I’ll go over the files again that we’ve compiled about your dad’s kidnapping.”
“I’ll stay home with you,” Tesla said immediately, and she meant it. “I can help with the files, and I’d much rather do that than go to a party. I’m worried about Dad.” Her voice broke a little on the last word.
Jane put her arm around Tesla’s shoulder. “I appreciate that, and I would accept if I thought it would help your dad. But I don’t think it will, and besides, he would want you to go. He was kind of excited about it—despite the whole tuxedo thing—and you can be his proxy tonight. He would be glad to know you were there to represent the family and have a little fun with your friends in the midst of this whole ordeal.”
Tesla bit her lip, not sure what to do. She didn’t care about the party and would skip it in a heartbeat if she could help find her dad. But if Jane was right, and there was nothing she could do tonight, she did not want to just sit around the house, pacing and worrying. It sounded horrible. She’d much rather be distracted by the Institute party.
“Good,” Lydia was saying. “Thank you for taking care of that immediately.”
Tesla felt herself blush. She looked up and saw that Finn watched her closely.
“I’m going to get some food,” she announced abruptly, but Sam stepped in.
“Why don’t I go fix us both a plate, and get some punch. I’ll bring it back here and we can relax before we dance again.”
Before she could respond he had walked away, toward the long tables of food and drink.
“He’s well-trained,” said Finn, amused.
“It’s called manners,” Tesla snapped. Finn laughed and pushed a chair out with his foot.
She hesitated a moment, then sat down. She would only make herself look like a child if she refused. She needed to take a lesson from Finn—nothing ever got to him.
Bizzy and Malcolm wandered over, and they both sat down. “Good eats,” said Malcolm. “I may have to go back for seconds.”
“You mean thirds,” said Bizzy, her enormous, black-ringed eyes narrowed in laughter. “You can eat more than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Thanks!” said Mal brightly.
The music had slowed to a deep, throbbing tempo, the melody carried by a saxophonist who had stepped to the front of the stage. The song had a slightly melancholy feel to it, not sad, exactly, but thoughtful and full of unspoken desire.
Malcolm cocked his head as he listened to the opening notes. “I do believe I could dance to this.” He turned to Bizzy. “I can put my arms around your waist, and you can put your hands up around my neck. I can sort of shuffle back and forth, and try not to step on your ballet shoes. But I am not Sam, so let’s kill that dream right now.”
“Who could resist such a romantic invitation?” Bizzy laughed as she stood up and headed for the dance floor and Malcolm, who shot Tesla a thumbs-up, hurried after her.
“Oh my god,” Tesla said, laughing. “What an unlikely pair.”
“I think it’s sweet,” said Lydia.
Finn looked at Tesla, an exaggerated look of earnestness on his face. “I can shuffle my feet around and hold you awkwardly, but you’re on your own in terms of your shoes. Shall we join the children?”
She couldn’t help it. She knew Finn was likely to laugh at her at the first opportunity, but it was a party, and she was all dressed up, and…. And it was Finn, she admitted to herself. She got up, he took her hand, and they walked to the dance floor.
They turned and faced each other and Finn put his hands on Tesla’s waist, just as he said he would. But it was far from awkward. Tesla’s pulse raced, and she sensed that Finn drew in a breath and held it, just for a minute, when she stepped in close to him and put her good hand high on his shoulder, her fingertips just touching his neck above the collar of his white shirt.
“Sorry about the cast,” Tesla said as she adjusted her turquoise-plastered arm on top of his.
“What cast?” Finn asked without a trace of mockery.
She felt the warmth of his hands through her dress. He held her lightly, his thumbs o
n the flat of her stomach, nothing but the soft, watery satin of her dress between his skin and hers.
They danced, but Tesla wasn’t certain they moved at all. With Sam, she had felt excitement, exhilaration. It was another thing entirely to dance with Finn. The world was reduced down to the deep, resonant notes of the saxophone, and Finnegan Ford’s eyes, his lips, and the curls against his neck, which had somehow become twined around her fingers.
He leaned down, slowly and deliberately, and touched her mouth with his, softly, intimately. She felt a rush of warmth envelope her as his hands tightened and pulled her in closer. She closed her eyes as his lips brushed feather-light across her cheek, and she felt his soft breath against her ear just before he whispered, “Why did you lie to Lydia about destroying the jpeg files from your dad’s office?”
The world righted itself, and Tesla’s face was guarded again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said evenly as she stepped away from him and he was forced to drop his hands to his sides. “Jack-ass,” she added as she turned away from him, pretending she’d been unaffected by his nearness, the slow, sexy music, his lips and his hands, his hands, those hands….
He cocked an eyebrow and grinned at her and she blushed because he could read her so well. He was impossible, infuriating. She walked back to the table, no idea whether he followed her or not. She didn’t care, she told herself.
“Sam, you’re back!” she said, more enthusiastically than she felt. She wondered if everyone at the table—including Beckett, who had reappeared sans her groupies—had seen their intimate embrace on the dance floor.
“I am,” Sam agreed, polite but a little remote. Well, I guess he saw, at least, she thought to herself.
“What’d you scavenge for us?” Finn asked, right next to her again, as he rubbed his hands together in greedy anticipation.
“I brought Tesla a variety. I wanted to make sure she got whatever she wanted,” Sam said stiffly.
Finn laughed. “I’ll bet.” He scanned the room, his interest already elsewhere. “Oh. Hello,” he said suddenly, quietly, as he pulled his cuffs out from his coat sleeves and headed toward a tiny brunette in an alarmingly short red dress.
“He. Is. Awesome,” said Malcolm as he watched Finn make his move across the room.
“Hardly,” said Tesla, her voice brittle, as she crumbled a tiny puff pastry in her fingers. Suddenly she flashed a brilliant smile at Sam. “Would you like to dance again?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I promised this one to Beckett.” Beckett and the dress she’d poured herself into stood up in a graceful, fluid movement. She took the hand Sam offered her and disappeared onto the crowded dance floor.
Tesla sat, miserable and confused.
“It’s your own fault,” said Keisha cheerfully.
“What is?” said Tesla, her voice sharp.
“Here you sit, all alone and with a big pout on, and not two minutes ago you had two hot guys vying for your attention.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Keisha,” Tesla said in an edgy voice as Lydia tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile behind her napkin. Joley quickly escaped to the buffet.
“You’ve handled this badly, is all, but it’s fixable.” Keisha scooted over to take the chair next to Tesla and, thankfully, dropped her voice so everyone in the tri-county area couldn’t hear her.
“They both dig you, obviously,” Keisha said, her doe eyes sultry as they reflected the candle light from the table. “And they’re both jealous of each other. Please,” she said quickly as she put her hand up to stop Tesla’s protests.
Tesla conceded and waited silently for the rest of it.
“Back off and slow down,” Keisha advised. “Enjoy them, enjoy the attention, but be real—don’t play them off each other, that’s just not right.”
“I didn’t mean to do that,” Tesla said, but she realized as she spoke that regardless of her intention, that was exactly what she’d done. “Gross,” she said, her self-disgust apparent. “I’m that girl.”
Keisha laughed. “No you’re not, you’re this girl.”
“Wait a minute,” Tesla said. “You’re the biggest flirt I know, and pretty regularly have multiple boyfriends at the same time. How come I get this advice?”
Keisha shrugged, very French—at least in her own mind. “Because I’m me. You’re you, and you gotta recognize that. You don’t like to make people uncomfortable, you’re too nice for that. When you play Finn, when you try to use Sam to make Finn jealous, you’re obvious, and it just pisses them both off. You’re bad at it because it’s not who you are.”
“Huh,” said Tesla. “Makes sense, I guess.”
“Of course it does,” Keisha said. “End of the day, you always go home with you, which sucks if you don’t like what you’ve been up to.”
“Miss Abbott?” said a smooth, older male voice.
Tesla looked up at the man who had approached their table so quietly she had not noticed him until he spoke. “Yes?”
“My name is Erik Van Aldan. I’m the new Director of the Institute of Experimental Physics. Would you care to dance?”
“Um, sure,” Tesla murmured as she threw a quick glance at Keisha that said, What the hell?
“Marvelous,” he murmured and stepped back to give her room to stand. “Lydia, you look lovely this evening,” he added with a slight bow.
“Thank you, Erik,” Lydia said warmly. “Congratulations again on being named Director. I know the faculty consider your appointment a great coup, and the start of a brilliant new chapter for the Institute.”
“My goodness, how kind! Shall we?” he asked Tesla.
He held the tips of her fingers in the crook of his elbow and led her to the dance floor, and then laid his hand lightly on her waist and took her other hand in his, exactly as Sam had done, but without any of the attendant excitement she had experienced with the younger man.
They danced, neatly and efficiently, and Tesla was glad to have had the practice with Sam first. The steps were the same, and Dr. Van Aldan was adept, if not particularly inspired.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s a great party. Oh, and congratulations on your appointment.”
“Thank you,” he said as he turned them expertly to follow the other couples on the floor. “I had looked forward to meeting your father—I’ve followed his work for many years now.”
She smiled politely but said nothing.
“I knew your mother’s work, as well,” Van Aldan said.
“Really?” Tesla asked quickly.
“Yes. She was brilliant—truly a remarkable woman, I understand. Her death was a tragedy.”
“Yes,” Tesla mumbled into the awkward silence.
“I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” he continued. “Yours and your brother’s. And now, of course, your father—”
“My father’s not dead,” Tesla said, shocked. She stopped abruptly and felt the brush of someone’s dress against her own.
“No, of course not,” Van Aldan assured her as he moved them forward again. “Forgive me, that was poor phrasing on my part. I simply meant that it must be hard for you and your brother, after the tragedy you’ve already suffered, to have your father disappear.”
Tesla followed his steps as the music played on, but she relaxed. He was actually pretty nice, and it felt good to get a little sympathy for a change. The whole spy thing surrounding her dad’s kidnapping meant that all the people who knew he was missing were actually on the job, working the case, and nobody had time to think much about her and Max’s feelings.
Her silence only made him feel worse. “I only meant to offer sympathy, my dear, and to tell you that if there is any way I can help, you have only to let me know. I’m aware, of course, that your father’s, ah, current status is not public information, but of course as Director I’ve been apprised of the situation. This is clearly related to his work. And I wanted you to know, personally, tha
t I’ll do whatever is in my power to have him returned unharmed.”
“Thank you,” she said warmly. “That’s really nice of you, and I’m sure both my parents would appreciate it. My brother and I appreciate it. It’s just difficult to talk about—we’re very worried.”
Van Aldan smiled. “I understand completely. So tell me, Tesla, what have you been doing with your summer? Something exciting, I hope?”
Nice guy, Tesla thought again. Changed the subject immediately when I said it was hard to talk about. Dad will like him. “No, not at all. I mostly just hang out. It’s kind of a small town, I’m afraid.”
“Pity,” he said. “Although that cast looks relatively new—some small adventure perhaps?”
“Yes, a spelunking accident,” she said, smiling. “Broke my arm saving the others from a wicked crevasse.”
Van Alden laughed with her and she thanked him for the dance when the song ended. He escorted her back to her table and left.
“Well that was certainly a high point of the evening,” Lydia said. “Sought out by the Institute’s director for a dance!”
“I guess,” said Tesla. “He really just wanted to say something nice and supportive about Dad. I guess you guys have had to tell a few university officials about the kidnapping. But yeah, Aunt Jane will get a kick out of me dancing with the big celebrity.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Lydia said. She ran her finger around the rim of her punch glass, apparently deep in thought. “You know I thought Jane would be here,” she added. “I can’t imagine what would keep her away.”
“She’s home with Max,” Tesla said.
“Of course, dear,” Lydia said smoothly. “In a town filled with college-aged boys and girls, most of them in need of money, it’s impossible to find a sitter.”
Tesla was suddenly tired. Tired of the weirdness between Lydia and Jane, tired of the tension between Finn and Sam, tired of Beckett’s barbed comments, even Keisha’s criticism. She was especially tired of the Jekyll and Hyde routine from Finn, intense and romantic one minute, then headed for the nearest Lycra miniskirt the next. She wouldn’t be made a fool for anybody.
