He sat forward slightly, seeming almost amused by my enthusiasm. “I actually looked at it when it was on the market a number of years ago, but I decided not to offer on it.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged casually. “I don’t know. I decided it was too big for just one person, and I couldn’t really afford it anyway. Not back then.” He reached to unbuckle his seatbelt. “And yes, I’d love to come in.”
We got out of the car and I found myself watching him discreetly, but intently, as we climbed the stairs to the veranda and approached the front door. I used my key to let us in, as Angela always locked the front door after 10:00 p.m.
I expected it to be quiet as we stepped into the entrance hall, but I heard the hum of conversation in the library, followed by laughter. “The owners sometimes like to get a card game going,” I explained to Aaron.
Just then, Angela appeared out of the library to greet us. I introduced her to Aaron and they shook hands.
“Would you like to join us for the next round?” she asked. “We’re playing crazy eights.”
I shared a look with Aaron, and answered for both of us. “I think we’ll just take it easy tonight, and have a drink in the front parlor, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. What can I get you?”
Aaron ordered a cognac and I asked for Baileys on ice. While she went to get our drinks, I took Aaron by the hand to show him around, even though he said he’d been there before.
I led him into the dining room. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I said.
“Yes,” he replied from the doorway, taking in the portraits on the walls, the fine china in the cabinet, the antique furniture.
Still seeing no signs of recognition in his expression, I led him to the photograph of the Fraser family in the front hall. “This is Captain Fraser and his wife, Evangeline,” I said, still holding Aaron’s hand. “She had the same name as your boat.”
Aaron bent forward to look more closely at all the faces, and I found myself on edge with a racing pulse and butterflies in my belly. But after a moment, Aaron simply straightened and said, “Interesting.”
Angela appeared out of the back kitchen with our drinks on a small silver tray, and passed by us to set them down in the front parlor.
“There’s a large portrait of the captain’s wife over the fireplace in my room,” I added as we sat down on one of the upholstered sofas. I signed for the drinks and Angela left us to return to the card game. “Bailey seemed to think Mrs. Fraser looked like me.” I picked up my drink and watched Aaron carefully.
He picked up his drink as well, and said nothing.
His lack of a response left me feeling disheartened, even though rationally, I knew I couldn’t expect him to consciously remember something from a former life, if that’s what it was, which it probably wasn’t. Nevertheless, I pressed on.
“I could show it to you,” I suggested. “Would you like to see it? We could take our drinks.”
“Sure.”
Gathering up my purse, I led the way up the wide, carpeted staircase. When we reached the top, I dug into my purse for my key as we moved down the hall.
“Here we are,” I cheerfully said, and unlocked the door.
My belly began to flutter nervously as I walked in and gestured toward the gilt-framed portrait over the mantel. “There she is. What do you think?”
Aaron moved to stand before the fireplace and looked up at it, quite thoroughly, for a long, drawn-out moment. My heart raced with anticipation.
“She definitely is beautiful,” he said at last, still looking up at her. I wondered what he was thinking and feeling. Anything?
At last, he turned to face me. “And she does look like you. Her hair is the same color, and there’s something similar in her eyes. She has the same spark you do.”
“I have a spark?” I asked with a grin.
“Oh, yes.” His gaze roamed over my face, and I could barely breathe, as the space between us electrified. “It must be strange sleeping in here,” he said, “looking up at your own doppelganger.”
“A little,” I replied, pondering his choice of words.
He sipped his drink, still watching me over the rim of the glass, and I wanted overwhelmingly to tell him everything—that I believed Evangeline and I shared the same soul, and that he was quite possibly in possession of the soul of Captain Fraser, her beloved husband. I wanted to step into Aaron’s arms and tell him how much I’d missed him, and let him know how grateful I was that we had found each other again.
But of course, I didn’t say any of that, because a part of me—the stubborn rational part—still felt like it was all a bunch of mumbo jumbo, and I was afraid he would think I was a delusional freak. Maybe I was.
Besides all that, I was still hesitant about leaping into this very new relationship, and simply handing over my heart. I wanted to see and hear it from him first. I’d been burned before, and it wasn’t easy for me to trust what was happening here, or to trust him. In this life, we barely knew each other, and the fact of the matter was, there were permanent scars on my heart and soul.
While I was mulling over that idea, my cell phone chimed in my purse, and I jumped. “Who’s texting me at midnight?” I said, feeling compelled to check, just in case it was something important.
Aaron stood patiently while I swiped the screen and read the text, which had come from an unknown number.
Hi Katelyn. This is Jack Peterson. I work at CNN in New York and I just sent you an email. I wanted to let you know because I understand you’re on vacation in Maine and I wasn’t sure if you’d be checking your messages. Looking forward to hearing from you.
My whole body tensed and I blinked a few times, thrilled that I’d gotten a response from CNN, but feeling unsure, under the circumstances, about how to handle this.
“Is everything okay?” Aaron asked.
All I could do was nod and read the text a second time. Finally I looked up. “It’s from your brother,” I immediately confessed. “He said he just sent me an email. They must have looked at my resume.”
Aaron’s eyebrows pulled together as he watched me. He finished his drink and set the empty glass down on the desk by the door. “He’s certainly working late.”
“Yes,” I replied, as I tapped the screen to access my emails. Sure enough, something had come in from Jack’s account at CNN five minutes earlier. “I’m just going to read the email,” I explained, glancing briefly at Aaron.
“Should I leave?” he asked.
“No,” I quickly replied. “Please stay. But close the door.”
He moved to close it while I read the email. “He says they watched my sample tapes,” I explained, “and they were impressed with my resume, and they want me to come to New York for an interview right away. Tomorrow, if possible.”
I glanced up again. Aaron made no comment, but he was watching me like a hawk, his eyes intense and contemplative as he searched my expression.
“You’re not happy about this,” I said.
He raised his hands, as if in surrender. “It’s your life and your career. What I told you the other night should have no bearing on this.”
“So you think I should go.”
He inclined his head at me. “It’s a great opportunity, and I don’t want to hold you back, Katelyn. We only just met.”
I should have been pleased that he wasn’t trying to make me feel as if I were being disloyal somehow, but the reference to how briefly we’d known each other felt like a punch to the gut. To me, it seemed as if we’d known each other forever, but I had to be careful about over-romanticizing what was happening between us. Perhaps he was just a good-looking guy I’d gone out with a couple of times. There was no commitment. There had been no promises, nor was there any proof that he was my one true soulmate who had followed me across time.
And yet…
I lowered the phone to my side. “I don’t want this to get in the way of what might be happening here,” I said. �
��I mean, I don’t want to presume anything, but I don’t want to say good-bye to you either.”
Without warning, he strode forward, gathered me into his arms and pressed his lips firmly to mine. The kiss was fierce and passionate, and I felt the heady sensation of his hands roving up and down my back. I met his mouth with willing, open abandon and was so happy—so immensely relieved—that he still wanted this. Whatever this was.
Slowly withdrawing from the kiss, he held me close in his arms and spoke in a quiet, husky voice that sent shivers of desire down my spine.
“I have no intention of saying good-bye to you. Just please promise me…” He paused. “Don’t listen to him, okay? Go for the interview and take the job if that’s what you need to do, but remember that I’m still here, wanting to be with you.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Ah, hell. What I really want to do is beg you to forget about CNN. Really, it’s not that great. And New York is… It’s fast and loud and you’ll hear sirens all day.”
I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “For the record,” I assured him, “I have no interest in your brother. I like what’s happening right here, and I want to continue this.”
He pulled me even closer, almost jerking me up against him. I couldn’t lie—his physical vigor was a definite turn on. “Then don’t go. Turn down the offer.”
“They haven’t offered me anything yet.”
“Then why not just leave it at that?” He spoke with a touch of humor, trying not be possessive like some sort of brutish Neanderthal, but I could sense that he truly did want me to decline the request for an interview and never meet his brother.
Part of me was tempted to do exactly that, because all that mattered to me in this moment was the beautiful man standing before me, holding me in his arms, arousing my passions—because he made me feel as if I were exactly where I was meant to be.
At the same time, I could not abandon my common sense as a woman of the twenty-first century. I could not possibly throw away a fabulous career opportunity on the whim of an infatuation that may or may not turn out to be something more. I’d been a television journalist all my adult life. It had been my dream since I was a small girl, and I truly believed it was my calling. Professionally, at least.
“I have to go to New York,” I whispered. “Just to see.”
For a long moment, Aaron gazed down at my lips without speaking a word, then he released me from the embrace and stepped back. “I understand.”
He kissed me on the cheek, then turned and started for the door.
“Wait. Are you leaving?” I asked, feeling a terrible pang of dread and regret. What if everything fell apart between us because of this one decision?
I tried to tell myself that if this single event was enough to put an end to our brief romantic acquaintance, then it was not meant to be after all.
“Yes, I’m going now,” he said with his hand on the door knob. “But I’m assuming you’ll call me or text me from New York to let me know how the interview goes.”
“Of course I will,” I replied, feeling almost dazed with frustrated desire as he opened the door to leave.
“And I hope you’ll come back, Katelyn, because I suspect I’ll want to be kissing you again, as soon as possible.”
“I want that too,” I replied with a smile.
He walked out into the hall. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”
I could barely breathe as I watched the door close behind him. Then I looked up at the portrait of Evangeline and tried to trust whatever was meant to be.
Chapter Forty-seven
Since it was only a five-hour drive to New York City from Cape Elizabeth, I decided to rise early, take the rental car, and stay in a hotel after the interview, which was scheduled for 4:00 p.m.
I was lucky enough to find a charming 1920s-era hotel, located on the edge of New York’s Theater District, four blocks from Times Square. I booked it online before I left and texted Aaron to let him know where I would be staying, and told him I’d head back to Cape Elizabeth the next morning.
The drive to New York was smooth and uneventful, and I arrived in time to check in, take a much-needed power nap, then grab a shower and make myself presentable.
It took some effort not to become nervous during the cab ride from the hotel to the Time Warner Center, but I kept my cool and found my way to the CNN newsroom, where I was greeted by an older woman named Jean who gave me a quick tour, then escorted me to a small private office where the interview was to take place.
To my surprise, Aaron’s brother Jack was not present in the room when I walked in, nor did he pop his head in to say hello. The interview was conducted by two other news directors—one male and one female.
In point of fact, I was relieved Jack wasn’t there, because I didn’t want Jack and Aaron’s rivalry to affect anything about the interview which, in the end, went extremely well. I felt confident as I walked out of the building onto Columbus Circle, and stopped on the crowded sidewalk to do a little dance, which attracted some attention.
Feeling spirited and overly energetic—and despite the fact that I was wearing heels—I decided to walk back to my hotel rather than flag down a cab, because the weather was fine, and I needed to work off some of my excitement.
The first thing I did was call Bailey. Naturally, she was thrilled to hear how well the interview went, and she asked me to let her know as soon as I heard back from them. Then she asked about Aaron.
“He’s been amazing,” I replied, “and I think I might really be falling for him, but he doesn’t remember anything about Evangeline or a past life—if there’s anything to remember. Last night I invited him into the inn and showed him the picture of Captain Fraser and his family in the entrance hall, and then the portrait of Evangeline in my room, but it didn’t seem to spark anything or ring any bells. Maybe all of this is just in my imagination.”
Bailey paused. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. If you’re into him and he’s into you, the present is what matters.”
After I hung up, I sent a text to Aaron: Hey there. I just finished the interview. It went really well. I think I have a good chance. And in case you’re wondering, Jack wasn’t there. I didn’t even meet him.
Aaron immediately texted me back. Congrats! I’m not surprised it went well. You’re a rock star. I’ll call you later when I get home. Dealing with a minor company crisis right now.
I paused at a stop light and typed my reply. Okay. Good luck. Talk later.
The light turned green and I moved with the crowd across the busy intersection. As soon as I stepped onto the curb, my phone buzzed again. I pulled it out and swiped the screen.
It was a text. This time, it was from Aaron’s brother, Jack, and my belly did a nervous flip.
Hi Katelyn. Congratulations. I just heard that you knocked their socks off. Sorry I couldn’t be there but I would still like to meet you. There’s something I think we need to talk about. Can we meet for a drink?
My belly exploded immediately into an even bigger firestorm of butterflies—not just because of the positive feedback about the interview, but because Jack wanted to talk to me about something. What could it be?
I didn’t answer right away, because I wasn’t sure what to say. What if he knew about my relationship with Aaron and he simply wanted to compete?
Needing a moment to process this, I walked the length of another block and stopped at the next light, then read the text again.
Jack was a producer at CNN where I was hoping to get hired. I’d be crazy to say no. But what about Aaron’s warnings?
Thinking long and hard about my options, I decided, in the end, that I couldn’t possibly refuse Jack’s invitation—and not just because of the potential job offer.
There’s something I think we need to talk about.
My curiosity got the better of me. I wanted desperately to know what that “something” was.
Chapter Forty-eight
Jack suggested we meet half an hour later at the Shake S
hack in Madison Square Park, so I hailed a cab because I didn’t think I could make it on foot in the heels I was wearing—at least not without the resulting torture of chafing and blisters.
How will I find you? I texted when I accepted his invitation.
I’ll find you, he replied. I know what you look like, but just so you know what to look for, I’ll be wearing a red T-shirt and a navy New York Yankees baseball cap. But don’t worry. I have a feeling you’ll recognize me.
My breath caught in my chest at the suggestion that I might recognize him, for his parents hadn’t shown me any pictures. All I’d seen was a picture of Aaron.
The rush hour traffic was slow and congested on Broadway, but the cab driver managed to get me to the park early, so I got out and wandered leisurely toward the Shake Shack. When I reached the outdoor restaurant, I searched all the tables where tourists and New Yorkers sat in the shade eating burgers and fries, and kept my eyes peeled for a man in a red T-shirt and navy baseball cap. I stopped for a moment to look more carefully about, but saw no one who fit that description.
Mindful of the fact that I had arrived early, I continued along the stone path to explore the park and admire the fountains and statues.
Eventually, I reached the opposite end and turned around to head back toward the Shake Shack, where I paused to shade my eyes from the early evening sun and search again for a man in a red T-shirt.
Then I spotted him. He was of medium height with a muscular build, wearing loose-fitting, faded blue jeans. He walked slowly, head down while reading his phone. His face was shielded by the brim of his ball cap.
My heart began to pound—not because he was a news director at CNN who might be able to help me get a job. No…it was something else. Something very familiar about the way he moved.
He paused on the path and finally lowered his phone to look up.
Suddenly, my own phone buzzed and I stopped to dig it out of my purse. I quickly swiped the screen and read a new text.
The Color of Forever Page 21
