“I know we’ve just had a bit of bad news,” the photographer said to us, “but let’s try to pretend like nothing’s wrong so we can get the photos and be done, shall we?”
“Of course.” I nodded as Spencer walked across the stage to stand near me. “Where would you like us?”
“How about by the fireplace?”
We did as he asked, and I finally met Spencer’s gaze as we faced one another.
“Just chat casually,” the photographer said as he lifted his camera. “But make sure you smile.”
What in the world could we talk about that would look casual?
Neither of us spoke for a moment, and then Spencer said, “How have you been, Ally?”
The truth was, I had been through a horrible experience in 1849 with the fire, but I could never tell him that. Instead, I said, “I’m fine.”
He waited for me to continue, but when I didn’t, he asked, “Anything new?”
I almost told him I was married, but he would never understand, so I simply said, “No.”
“Don’t forget to smile, Miss Bennett,” the photographer said.
I forced myself to smile.
“You’re not making this very easy,” Spencer tried to tease, but I saw discomfort in his eyes.
Thankfully, the photographer was far enough away, he wouldn’t be able to hear us as we spoke under our breath.
“I’m not going to apologize for being upset, Spencer. What you did to me was unacceptable.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You should have thought of that before you put me in such a dangerous situation. What if I had been there when the party was raided?”
“I would have explained to the feds why you were with me.” He studied me for a moment. “I warned you I end up hurting anyone who gets close to me.”
I frowned. “Is that supposed to excuse your poor behavior?”
“Miss Bennett...” the photographer warned.
I put the smile back on my face.
“No,” Spencer said, a mask of indifference rising like it had when I first met him. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone knows I’m no good.” He turned to the photographer. “Are we finished?”
The man sighed. “I suppose so.”
“See you around, Ally.” Without a backward glance, Spencer left the stage.
Tears stung my eyes again, but I couldn’t let him get to me. I had to focus my energy and attention on other things.
We were only five days away from my birthday, and I was no closer to knowing how things would play out. IfThe Annals of San Franciscowasn’t back at the library in the next couple of days, I would have no choice but to drive to San Francisco and see if I could learn the truth about what would happen to me and Sam on November 3rd, 1849.
25
October 30, 1849
San Francisco, California
News of the stock market crash and all its implications followed me into1849. I woke up the next morning at Bess’s Place, and it was the first thing on my mind.
