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Wayne shifted his fingers through his dark curls.
He’s more handsome than ever.
I wonder if he feels the slightest bit of the pain that I feel.
But it has to be over. Whatever it is.
“Of course,” Wayne said. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
He nodded a final time toward Elise. “I guess if I don’t see you have a good trip back to California.”
“Thanks,” Elise said.
This is really how it ends.
But I have to protect myself.
“Elise Darby,” Tracey said as she approached, passing by Wayne and sitting at the edge of the little bench. She folded her arms over her chest and beamed up at her. “When I first met you at my boutique, I thought to myself—a more beautiful woman I’ve never seen in my life.”
Elise remembered it. She’d had the biggest friend-crushes on Tracey, on Anna, and the rest of their friend group.
“You were so welcoming to me,” Elise breathed.
“But you must have known that I was a Swartz,” Tracey affirmed. “It’s why you came into the boutique that day.”
Elise shook her head. “I didn’t. There’s no way to prove it, I guess. But I had only just learned Dean Swartz’s name. I...” She pressed her lips together. “Maybe I can just show you.”
Elise led Tracey up to her bedroom, where she removed the old photo of Dean Swartz, on the set ofSomewhere in Time.
Tracey chuckled as she took the photo. “That’s Dad, all right. Look at how handsome he was. It’s almost painful to look at it, you know? Just how youthful he was. Just how hopeful.”
“I found it at the library,” Elise said as she leaned against the desk. “I knew it was him right away because he looks strikingly like my son, Brad.”
Tracey’s eyes turned slowly toward Elise’s. “Alex would kill me if he knew that I was giving you the time of day, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” Elise said. “So, why are you?”
Trace shrugged. “Boredom, maybe. Curiosity. Wayne told me to just give you five minutes of my time. He said, ‘Maybe she’s a con artist, but if she is, she’s one of the better ones in the world.’”
Elise chuckled at that. “As if Wayne has had much interaction with con artists.”
Tracey laughed. “He does think he’s a whole lot smarter than he is, doesn’t he? But he’s handsome. Means he can get away with murder.”
Elise’s smile fell.
“Obviously, you feel the same?”
“Felt, I guess,” Elise said. “But like I said. It doesn’t matter.”
Tracey flipped the photo back and forth absently. “Your mother told you about my father, then?”
Elise shook her head. “She kept him hidden my entire life. I had no idea until now. It was only when she died a few weeks ago that I discovered her diary from that summer.”
Tracey’s face shifted. She fell against the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry to hear that. We lost my mother two years ago. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over that monster-sized hole in my heart. I still have dreams about her. Still make a move to call her in the middle of the day... just about random things. She had really good style, and she helped me with a lot at the boutique.”
Elise closed her eyes for a long time. “I know it must be difficult and strange for you, hearing that I’m accusing your father of what he did.”
Tracey laughed slightly. “It’s not like we had anything to do with all that. They were just kids, right? Twenty-something. Looks like you’re a bit younger than all of us. If it’s all true, then Dad probably wanted to escape the prison he had created for himself. Three kids—a wife who was angry that he worked so often and of course...” Her eyes grew hazy.
