Perhaps take some measurements.”
“Maybe,” I say, knowing I’m not going to just hand it over.
“That would be wonderful,” Drew says. Briefly, he lets his hand drop to my arm, and I get a quick but immediate sense of loss and longing—emotions I’m sure he’s letting me see. He seems to shudder, coming back to the present, pulling himself away from any memories he’s experiencing. His phone vibrates on the desk, and he glances at it and then back to me.
“You should get that,” Kat says, her voice cold and distant.
“Right,” he says. “I, um, probably should.”
Kat pulls me away from the office and down the hall. “What the hell was that all about?” she demands.
“What was what?” I ask as innocently as I can.
“That whole thing!” she says quietly. “The two of you were staring at each other like you were in a trance.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He just liked the necklace,” I say, hoping that’s enough to get her to drop the subject. “Why do you care so much?”
“Look,” she says, glancing toward the office door and ignoring the question. “I know when something’s going on. Drew and Francesca are practically engaged, and if you so much as think of coming between them, you’re insane.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I say, following her down the stairs. “You were the one who dragged me all the way over here.”
“I’m not stupid,” she whispers to me. “Bye, Francesca!” she calls as we walk through the shop, her voice light and happy. Kat glares at me as Francesca waves back. I’m
Drew catches up with us as we head out the back door. “Thanks again for showing me the pendant,” he says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card for me. “Here’s my number if you need to get hold of me. Call me anytime. That necklace is truly one of a kind. I haven’t seen one like that in a long time.” His eyes hold mine so steady that I can’t look away. “A
Veronique stands at the bottom of the Pacific Coast Club steps, linking her arm through mine like we’re old friends.
“Why here?” I ask, looking up at the dimly lit windows. When I called Veronique from home, she suggested we meet here, saying it wouldn’t be very busy on a Sunday. Now I’m not sure it’s such a great idea.
“Where better to put this whole episode behind us than the place where we last saw each other? What we need is a new start.” Veronique looks at me with a smile so wide she seems almost uncharacteristically giddy. “Definitely, a new start.”
The big brick building seems more menacing now that I know what happened here. My stomach is in knots, and I tie my jacket tighter against the cold spring wind. I put my right hand into the pocket to make sure the newspaper printouts are still there and feel something crumbly at the very bottom. I haven’t worn this jacket since Friday on the beach with Griffon. A lump forms in my throat, and I know what the pieces are before I pull out the broken sand dollar. Like everything associated with him the past few days, this has been destroyed, too.
I start up the front steps, but Veronique stops me.
“Not that way,” she says, walking quickly around the right side of the building. “We have to go in the back way. Last time, when it was someone’s home, things were different, but women have to go through the back now. Sexist bastards.”
I remember the “members only” greeting I got the last time I was there. “Are you a member?”
Veronique glances over her shoulder and laughs. “No.” She slows so that I can catch up with her. “I can’t be. Not being a man and all. But it does help to know people who are.”
We reach the back door and ring the bell. After a few tense seconds, it’s opened by a bored-looking man in a uniform. “Welcome,” he says and stands back to let us through.
“Thank you,” Veronique says briskly as she pushes past him into the back hallway.
I stand for a second, taking in the ornate ceiling and wood trim that seems to cover every surface. The place even smells old, and the combined scent of hair tonic and cigar smoke that has worked its way into the building over the past hundred years triggers a pang of familiarity in my chest. I haven’t seen this part of the building in my memories, but part of me deep inside remembers being here.
“Come on, this way,” Veronique says, and turns down a back hallway. For someone who isn’t a member of the club, she sure seems to know her way around. Somewhere in the distance I can hear soft piano music and the disjointed mumble of several male voices deep in conversation.
“Is there a meeting room or something?” I glance down at the doors that line the hallway and wonder if one of them is where I’d overheard Signore Luisotti seal Alessandra’s fate that long-ago night.
“There are, but that’s so boring,” Veronique says, pulling open a heavy wooden door and gesturing grandly. “We’re going to the roof.”
I stop at the entrance to the stairwell, thinking about what happened the last time I was on the roof of this building. “I don’t think so,” I say
Veronique stops and turns back to me. “Why not?”
“Heights aren’t really my friend.”
“All the more reason you should go. You can’t let one incident rule all of your lifetimes.”
I hesitate. “Can’t I just show you the articles I found down here?”
Veronique’s face droops, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was pouting. “You said that you want to start our relationship over again. The roof is the perfect place to start over.” Without waiting for a reply, Veronique disappears through the door, and facing the choice between being left out here alone and following, I take a deep breath and follow her. I want to get this settled once and for all. It’s only three flights up, and we walk in silence; the only sounds are our footsteps on the old, wooden stair treads. I try to calm the fear that’s rising in my heart by reminding myself that, amid all of the bad things that have happened lately, Veronique has been doing everything she can to help me. I have to believe that, because at this point, I have no other choice.
At the top of the last flight of stairs is another wooden door, much less fancy than the one at the bottom. Veronique twists the knob and pushes the heavy door with her shoulder until it gives, opening onto the gray, overcast sky.
I stand in the doorway, not needing to look over the edge to know how high up we are. My breath begins to come in short bursts as I look around. Where the inside of the building is full of heavy, ornate decorations, the roof is almost bare, with just a few chimneys and a couple of skylights dotting the huge, flat space. In the middle there’s a big open square with light shining up from below and a waist-high stone railing surrounding the roof on all sides.
“Seriously,” I say, “can’t we do all of this on the ground floor?” I cling to the doorway with my right hand, not trusting myself to inch any farther onto the roof. “There’s got to be an empty meeting room down there somewhere.”
“Oh, come on. This is perfect,” Veronique says, throwing her arms to the side as if embracing the San Francisco skyline. “It’s private, so we can talk without thinking that someone’s going to overhear us. You’re not afraid, are you?” She turns back to me. “You don’t trust me. You think I’m out to get you just like Griffon said.” She pauses. “He really messed you up, didn’t he?” I don’t want Veronique to think that Griffon still has any power over me.
“It’s not that. It’s just the last time I was up here, things didn’t go well.”
Veronique drops her arms and looks over at me. “Exactly why you should come away from the doorway and check it out. Only by facing what happened to us in the past can we participate in our future.” She grins. “Okay, I read that in a fortune cookie, but still, it applies.” She holds out her hand, and after a few seconds I take it, allowing her to pull me out of the doorway and onto the roof. I feel nothing from her touch. She seems almost hyper, but it’s as if her essence has shut down. She tilts her head toward the railing on the other side of the roof.
