“Of course.”
He smiled. “Thank you. I’ll call them now and arrange it. Do you think you can be ready in about an hour?”
“Yes.”
“Great.”
I watched him jog off the set, hoping and praying I wouldn’t regret going with him. I had to remind myself that his mother wasn’t a gangster—at least, I hoped she wasn’t—and she was just as innocent in all of this as me. She deserved a little happiness once in a while, because her son had given her a fair share of heartache, I was certain.
“You’re going to continue seeing Spencer?” Vicky asked as she approached.
“He asked me to meet his mother and aunt.”
“Is this all part of the ruse?”
I was thankful that everyone was distracted in conversations and not paying attention to us. “His mother has been reading the magazines, and she thinks it’s all true. I agreed to meet with her as a favor to Spencer.”
“For what purpose? To break her heart further when you two call it quits?”
“I’m just agreeing to meet with her. Nothing more. Whatever happens later is something Spencer will need to deal with.” I put my hands on her upper arms, needing her to understand the truth about him. “Once the movie premieres, we all need to put Spencer Hayes out of our lives.”
She frowned but didn’t pull away.
“He’s not who we think he is,” I whispered. “I’m afraid he’s mixed up with the wrong people. Dangerous people. I’m only agreeing to meet his mother as a favor. Please believe me, Vicky. We both need to let him go.”
She studied me for a heartbeat, confusion and suspicion in her eyes, and then tore herself from my hands and walked off the set.
I didn’t know how I would convince her, but I had to.
Spencer and I were quiet an hour later as we rode in his Rolls-Royce toward the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. Darkness had fallen over Hollywood, and the lights on Sunset Boulevard highlighted the palm trees lining the street. I had put on an evening gown, nothing too formal, but something a little special to mark the occasion. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this meeting, but I wanted to at least pretend to make an effort for his mother’s sake.
It was strange that we were done filming and would go from working almost nonstop to having hours of free time on our hands. It would give me a lot of time to contemplate what I wanted to do on my birthday, because I could no longer ignore the impending decision. What complicated it was knowing that Sam was supposed to die in a fire the day after my final decision, which meant that I really didn’t have much choice. If I wanted to ensure that he lived, I had to tell him—before my birthday, because I would have to forfeit my life in 1849 and stay in 1929.
Why didn’t that idea fill me with peace?
“I’m sorry things have been so strange between us,” Spencer said, breaking the silence. “I never intended for you to learn anything about my other work.”
I didn’t say anything for a few moments, and then I finally sighed. “Why don’t you quit?”
“It’s not that easy. There would be serious consequences.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
He gave me a strange look. “Enjoy it? What do you think I’m doing, Ally?”
I stared back at him. “You’re a gangster.”
For a second, he just looked at me, and then he began to laugh as he shook his head. “You seriously think I’m working for Al Capone? That would be more lucrative.”
It was my turn to look confused. “Aren’t you?”
He let out a sigh. “No.”
“Then what are you doing that’s so dangerous?”
“You want to know the truth?”
“Yes.”
