Flirting With Forever by Gwyn Cready (new books to read TXT) 📕

Mertons heaved his chest. “I’m afraid we cannot al ow it.

And as far as going from here to 1673—and don’t look at me like that. I am certainly smart enough to see you are planning to go back to Charles—you may forget it. The Guild has shut down al time tubes indefinitely, except for one, and that one they are monitoring closely.”

If Mertons had wanted to return Peter’s punch, he couldn’t have done better than this. How many times could Peter fail her?

“Furthermore,” Mertons said, “they wil bring you back, forcibly if necessary.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, if the Guild had the power to force me to return, you’d be frog-marching me into their council room as we speak.”

Silence. Mertons looked at his feet.

Peter lifted his mug. “As I thought.”

Mertons dropped his head into his hands, and Peter considered what he could salvage from this adventure. He sensed the smal sketchbook in his pocket, and thought of the letter it held, the letter he would use if al else failed. It shamed him even to consider such an unscrupulous act—a letter that would destroy her career—but he consoled himself with the fact that an alternate plan, a plan with which Mertons might help him, should be enough to render the plan involving the letter unnecessary.

“Don’t despair, my friend,” Peter said after a moment. “I have a deal for you.”

“A deal?” Mertons looked up.

“Aye. You help me. I help you.”

Mertons covered his nose reflexively. “You’re not going to hit me again, are you?”

“No, no. Nothing like it. How would you like to be credited with negotiating my return?”

“Since I’l lose my job if I don’t, I can honestly say I would.”

“Wel , we can’t have you losing your job, now can we?

’Twil require only a few essentials. Nothing the Guild can’t afford.” Peter smiled.

Mertons looked slightly dizzy. “You’re going to blackmail the Guild?”

“Blackmail’s an ugly word. Think of it as facilitating the most efficient return possible.”

“What, pray tel , do you require?”

“You wil want to make a list.”

As the publican placed a steaming mug on the table, Mertons took the pencil and piece of paper Peter offered him, al the while moving his lips silently, as if in prayer, though his expression was far from ecclesiastical.

“I’m ready.”

“Very wel ,” said Peter. “’Tis simple. I want a studio, a dozen bolts of canvas and enough lead white paint to fil the Thames.”

34

“There’s a man upstairs in the loft for you,” Jacket said as he pressed the security button to cal the elevator.

“Real y?” Cam searched his eyes for a hint but found none.

Jacket had taken to greeting her in the lobby each night when she got off her bus, sometimes even with a much-appreciated glass of wine. The 44U entered Mt. Lebanon where the two big churches sat, at the peak of Washington Road. She had exited there and walked the last quarter mile to her building, past the cemetery where her father was buried, past the hardware store, past the Japanese restaurant, whose sushi she and Jacket loved so much. It was a great way to unwind. The last couple weeks before the opening of an exhibition were always hard, and though everything was coming together, she was glad the long workday was over and al she had to worry about was getting Ursula into the sack, creatively speaking, with Peter.

Not that it was al that hard, after al . She knew how persuasive Peter could be when he put his mind to it.

“A man?” she said, juggling the wine and her laptop bag.

“Who?”

“Dunno. Didn’t give his name. Says he’s a friend of yours.”

Her heart did a lurch, and then she remembered Jacket and Peter had already met. Whoever the man upstairs was, it wasn’t Peter.

When the door opened in the penthouse, Cam saw Peter’s nosy apprentice, Mertons, sitting on the edge of her couch. For an instant she didn’t know what to say. She knew he’d arrived shortly after Peter, for Jeanne had told her so. She also knew Jeanne had brought him to Aldo’s.

But that had been a week ago. Where he’d been in the last week, she had no idea. He was dressed in a somber gray suit with a crisp white shirt and a