I felt like I had at my senior prom: excited, proud, sexy, confident and nervous, all at the same time. I wished I could wear the dress forever, even if just so I could pretend to be alluring to men. Mandy had said no one would be able to take their eyes off me, but I still had to see it to believe it, regardless of how fantastic my dress made me feel.
“You could be a picture,” Mandy said.
I looked at her with gratitude. Then I embraced her tightly. She pulled back and held her hands out.
“Careful, Rachel,” she said with a laugh. “You’ll crease the dress.”
I put my hand over my mouth and giggled. Then I faced the mirror again. “Thank you.” I faced Mandy. “You’re amazing.”
She held both my hands. “I’ll tell the others you’re ready.”
I nodded and she walked out of the room. I stared at myself a little while longer. My hair had grown by maybe a quarter of an inch since Suzanna cut it. I felt a lump in my throat as I thought about her. But I stopped myself from crying. I’d have time to mourn them later. I sniffled and wiped my nose. Then I spun around, smiling. I’d never felt more like a woman. I stood still for a few more minutes and then stepped out of the room, the bottom of my dress touching the floor. I lifted it and walked down the stairs. I heard talk and laughter coming from the living room, making me even more nervous. Please, let them not stare.
I stopped by the door and peeked in through the gap. Manuel wore a dark suit, a white shirt and a tie. He looked like Michael’s driver again. Curtis paced around the room, his face hard and his shoulders hunched. His dark suit and black shirt made him look every bit the security guard he was trying to impersonate. Doug stood a few yards away, in the corner of the room, behind a minibar. His dark blue trousers, vest and suspenders looked convincing enough. No one at the party would suspect he wasn’t a bartender. One of the maids stood beside him, showing him how to pour drinks in as stylish a manner as possible without dropping the mixers. Her mixing technique left no doubt in my mind as to what her second job was.
I looked around the room until I saw Michael and Mandy enter from the door leading outside. Mandy wore the same jeans and white shirt she’d had on earlier. But she was only doing operations, which didn’t require her to dress up. Michael, however, looked every bit the dashing man I’d seen the first time we met. His hair was coiffed to the side. His eyebrows had been plucked to perfection. His face was so smooth that it looked like he had applied powder. Damn, you clean up well. They stood in the middle of the room looking around. I knew it was me they were waiting for. Michael whispered into Mandy’s ear and she approached the door. I coughed and pushed it open before she got there. Then I stepped into the room. Manuel saw me first and his eyes widened. Michael was next to see me. He squinted in my direction, as if not believing what he was seeing. Moments later, everyone was staring at me, even the three maids in the room.
“My God,” Doug said.
“I told you,” Mandy said with pride. “She’s gorgeous.”
Michael walked toward me. I swallowed and took a step back. He stopped a few inches away and studied me, checking out every crevice of the dress, his eyes speaking to me in a sensual way. I saw a scowl appear on Doug’s face at the same time. Michael had looked jealous back at his place in San Benito, and now Doug seemed to be. As charming as they both were in their own unique ways, I couldn’t even consider the possibility of getting close to another man. Kevin was still so much in my heart and mind. It didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful for what they’d done for me since we met, but that was as far as it went.
“You look perfect,” Michael said.
I giggled. Michael held his right arm out. “May I?”
I nodded and took it. He turned and faced the others. “You all know what to do.”
Everyone nodded without saying a word, their eyes still on me. I heard a beep from a car’s horn outside. I swallowed again. Michael leaned toward my ear. “You’ll be all right.”
I smiled thinly and walked out of the house with him. A black limo was parked out front. Manuel ran past us and held the back door open. A Lincoln SUV was parked behind it, the engine already running.
Michael gestured toward the open door. “After you.”
I got in and moved to the opposite end of the huge car. Nervousness took over my body. I couldn’t tell whether my hands were trembling from the smaller doses of medication I’d been taking or from anxiety. Michael joined me a moment later and shut the door. His slim-fitting suit highlighted his well-defined muscles. The black bow tie gave him an exquisite look. I heard the SUV kick to life and pull out. Then our limo started moving. This was it, our last chance to stop the journal from returning to the future.
Chapter Thirty-Six
We had already done a five-minute test of our new earpieces by the time we reached the corner of Blaine Street. They were even clearer than the ones we’d used in Sacramento, with better micro transmitters. But everything felt different this time. For one, it felt much better not being covered in the uncomfortable camouflage paint. I shifted in my seat, trying to straighten my dress. Our five-hour drive wasn’t the most comfortable.
“Two minutes,” Manuel said through the car’s intercom.
I squeezed my palms together and stared out the window.
“You all right?” Michael said.
I nodded. I actually am. No shakes, nothing. We took another right turn, onto West Olympic Boulevard, before seeing a phalanx of marked and unmarked police cars up and down the street. Michael also pointed out government sedans with tinted windows. A number of men in black suits walked around with hands to their ears, talking.
“Secret service?” I said.
Michael nodded.
“This is more than we thought,” Doug said through the earpiece.
“Well, we’re here now,” Curtis said. “We’ve just got to do it.”
We were all quiet as the limo stopped behind a row of cars pulling up to Carrie’s apartment building. Even more secret service agents and private security personnel filled the street, eyeing every car that went past.
“We’re parked now,” Mandy said through the earpiece a few minutes later.
“Okay,” Michael said. “You ready, Doug?”
I heard Doug sigh. “I guess.”
“Not good enough,” Michael said. “You either do this or we turn around right now. Any bit of doubt could blow our cover.”
Nothing came back, only heavy breathing. “I’ll do my bit,” Doug said finally. We heard him open the door. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” I said, and everyone else followed suit.
“You must maintain radio silence from now until it’s time,” Michael said.
“Then stop talking to me,” Doug snapped.
Michael relaxed in his chair. Our limo had moved to within three cars from the entrance.
“Did you have to be so hard on him?” I said.
Michael gave me a glance and typed into his cell phone. He paused for a moment and looked at me. “I had to. He’s been a broken man since his wife died.”
“And so he should be,” I said. “No one should have to go through that.”
“I can hear you,” Doug said. Michael and I looked at each other. “Look, I said I’ll do it, and I will.”
“Sorry,” Michael said.
The silence returned. We were one car away from the entrance when Michael tapped me on the knee and nodded toward the window. I turned and saw Doug walk past. He nodded at us and continued. We watched him until he reached the sea of security guards and secret service personnel near the entrance. He tipped the badge on the right side of his vest forward and waited. One of the three security guards allowing guests in studied it for a moment and then typed into a tablet. I swallowed and leaned back. I feared they would find out that we had paid the waiter who was supposed to be on duty for his ID badge.
The guard looked at Doug again. Then he stood aside and waved him through. Doug nodded and disappeared from si
ght.
“I’m in,” he said after a minute.
“Yes,” Michael roared. We had reached the front of the line. “Okay, Curtis, you know what to do.”
“Ten minutes and I’ll get into position,” Curtis said.
“Doug, don’t speak. Just listen. Rachel and I are getting out now. Don’t attract any attention to yourself. Double-tap the earpiece if you see the president.”
A security guard tapped on the limo’s window. Michael held his hand up, but the man tapped again, harder this time.
“Hold on, Doug,” Michael said. He wound the window down.
“Are you coming in, sir?” the guard said.
“In a minute,” Michael said.
“I’m afraid we need you in right now. You’re holding up the line.”
Michael held his hands up again.
The man raised his voice. “Sir! I’m afraid I have to insist.”
“The first family are here,” Doug whispered into the earpiece.
Michael sighed and scowled at the man. Just then, a tall man and a stocky man, both in black suits, ran from the front door to the car. The tall man spoke to the irate security guard. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but the guard seemed to be explaining the situation. The tall man walked toward the car and tapped on the window.
Michael held down the driver’s intercom button and wound the window down.
This guard didn’t scowl like the other one. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, “but you’ve—Mr Galloway. I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize you.”
Michael smiled. “That’s fine.”
The tall man spoke into the ear of the previous guard. Then the guard squatted by the window. “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t know who you were.”
Manuel opened the driver’s door and walked beside the apologetic guard, who moved away. He opened the door. Michael stepped out first and held his hand out. “Shall we?”
I looked out. There were tons of people walking in—couples, single men and women—and they all looked fantastic. I fanned my face with my hand. What if the shakes came back? Everyone would stare at me like I was mad.
“You’ll be fine, Rachel,” Mandy said through the earpiece. “Just remember, you’re the most important person in here tonight. Not Carrie but you.”
I looked into Michael’s eyes. He had a warm smile, but my legs still felt like jelly.
“You’ll do great, Rachel,” Doug said. “I believe in you.”
A smile formed on my face and I stared at the ground. I didn’t know why, but Doug’s words always carried more weight than anybody else’s, even Michael’s. I faced my date again, except this time his smile was gone.
“We need to go now,” Michael said.
I smiled at him and grabbed his hand. After placing my right foot outside the limo, I felt like a real woman again, but the anxiety hadn’t gone. All eyes seemed to turn in my direction as I stepped away from the car, side by side with Michael. Strange as it felt, I actually felt attractive, like the guys were staring at me because they saw something they liked and not just because I was walking hand in hand with the billionaire Michael Galloway.
When we reached the security guards and the secret service agents, they moved aside for us. Some even called Michael “sir.” I felt like I was going to prom with the star quarterback. He was beautiful and charming. But I wished my husband were the one by my side. He would probably have worn his fitted gray suit. He liked wearing it for special occasions. He would have shielded me from all prying eyes if he ever sensed I was uncomfortable. Jenny sometimes thought he was overprotective, but I found it sweet. I wondered what he would think if he were looking down at me at that moment. Would he want me to continue mourning him, or would he want me to move on? And if so, would he approve of Michael or Doug? I could feel the tension between them every time they were around me. They were both attractive in their own way, but I felt guilty whenever I looked at them for more than a second, admiring them physically. Or maybe I just missed my husband.
We walked past a few more guards and secret service agents and down a long corridor until we reached a set of elevators, where we saw even more guards. Other people who lived in the apartment building were directed right, toward the staircase. Party guests were ushered in by the elevator operators, young men in white shirts and vests.
We waited in the line of people waiting to go up for five minutes or so, and as we rode up, a low bell rang when we reached the twenty-sixth floor, the highest. But the door didn’t open. Instead, silence filled the elevator. I could feel the eyes of the couples behind us staring. They either wondered what he was doing with me or thought my dress looked nice. The door opened. Michael stood aside and smiled at me. I lifted the bottom of my dress and stepped out. Michael interlocked his arms with mine and we walked toward two large doors. I couldn’t see any other apartments around. We were definitely in the penthouse. The guards spoke to each guest for a few seconds before allowing them in.
“How are you guys doing?” Mandy said through the earpiece.
“So far so good,” Michael said, looking at me, to make people around us think he was speaking to me. “Curtis?”
“On my way,” Curtis’ voice came back.
“Just be calm. Remember what you have to say.”
Curtis didn’t answer. We stopped a few yards from the doors as the guards stopped a couple from entering.
“Brian Perry,” we heard Curtis say through the earpiece. “I know. I’ve been in bed with the flu all day. Wasn’t gonna make it, but I need this gig.”
He was silent for a while. I guessed the guards had stepped away and were probably talking among themselves or checking out where he was supposed to be.
“The kitchen?” Curtis said again. “Okay. Thank you.” We heard nothing again for a while, but he spoke again after a minute. “I’m in.”
“Yes!” Manuel shouted.
Michael flashed a smile at me. “Okay. You know what to do.”
“On my way,” Curtis said.
“Doug!” Michael said.
“I’ve got this,” Doug said in a less irritated voice.
We had reached the front of the line. The guards and secret service agents looked at me. A bald agent with freckles eyed my dress. After looking at Michael, he tapped his partner on the shoulder and whispered into his ear. The other man looked up and moved to the side. “Please come in, Mr Galloway.”
Michael nodded at them and led me in with a firm grip. I stopped after taking three steps and studied the sprawling lounge we stood in. Pearl-white walls surrounded us. The high ceilings were light gray, with six sets of lamps in each corner, hanging down about five feet in perfect symmetry. Large windows surrounded us, providing a perfect view of downtown L.A. The apartment looked as good as most I’d seen in the future. I guessed the rich had always lived better than regular folk, whether in 2013 or 2043.
A number of waiters and waitresses walked around with trays of pink and normal Champagne. Everyone looked fantastic. The men were dressed in a variety of suit styles, and all had smart bow ties like Michael’s. The women were dazzling. Some wore backless dresses, while others wore typical ballroom gowns. Some revealed too much, and others left everything to the imagination, but everyone looked amazing. The eyes on me became overwhelming after a while, and I wasn’t imagining it this time. They really were looking at me, some even in awe, judging by how long they looked.
Many came and shook Michael’s hand like I’d expected. He introduced me to a few of them. The only person of note, however, was probably James Nielson, a major Hollywood actor with long blond hair. He spoke with both of us for a few minutes about a picture he wanted Michael to produce, just as Michael had predicted he would. He pleaded numerous times for Michael to read the script after the party. Michael gave in after the fifth time, and James gave him a tight hug like they were long-lost brothers. James then darted off after a pretty blond woman in a blue dress. Things continued in the same vein for some time, but I grew frust
rated after a group of older men in suits eased Michael to the side for a chat. After waiting for ten minutes, I continued on my own, drinking Champagne whenever it was offered. I could so get used to this. I approached a bar in the corner of the lounge. Doug was pouring a cocktail for an attractive woman in a white dress. I could see her checking him out even with her husband there. I smiled and continued. Then I bumped into a tall well-built man with a bald head and a large face. He wore a faded tight-fitting blue suit.
“Pardon me, my dear.” He nodded and moved on.
I shrugged it off, but then it hit me. I knew that man, but from 2043. It was one of the men Lorenzo had met outside Suzanna’s building, the same man who’d spoken to Angela just before I made her take me to the portal.
“Oh my God.” I turned around, looking for Michael, but couldn’t see him.
“What is it, Rachel?” I heard Doug say.
I turned toward his bar. He was looking straight at me. I continued searching for Michael.
“Michael,” I whispered. Nothing came back. “Michael.” I turned back around, looking for the large man. I saw him walking toward a corner of the lounge. I grabbed another glass of Champagne from a waitress and headed in his direction, easing people out of the way. The farther I got, the more aggressive I became about it. Some glared at me.
“Rachel,” Doug said, “what’s going on?”
I didn’t answer but kept pushing my way through the crowd. Then I saw the man again. He spoke to two other men. Behind them were a host of secret service agents with bulging pockets and their hands constantly over their ears. One of the men was unfamiliar, but the other was someone I knew very well. It was Jarrod. I stepped back and turned my head away from him. It wasn’t time to meet them yet. Not on my own, anyway. I needed to have Michael with me.
Doug was now serving a man but looked at me every few seconds. I sneaked a peek at the men again. A black woman in a stunning cream dress that reached her ankles joined them. “It’s Carrie,” I said into the earpiece.
The Children Who Time Lost Page 35
