When the Walls Fell

by Monique Martin

  She was bound and determined that it wouldn’t keep them apart though. Simon was, deep in his heart, an explorer too. He might have preferred to do it from the safety of a leather wingback chair and risk only paper cuts, but his mind was as inquisitive as hers. She just needed to give it a little nudge.

  And, if she were honest with herself, she liked the feeling of his protective presence. If it could always be like it was now, like the reassuring feeling of his hand lightly holding her arm. Not guiding her, not holding back, just being at her side.

  She and Simon had left Mrs. Eldridge’s to go for a walk and ended up, as apparently did everyone else in the city, on Market Street. As they walked they’d caught each other up on their adventures so far. While his description was concise and on point, very Joe Friday, hers was long, rambling and would have been bound in several volumes.

  The most maddening part was that he didn’t seem to be as worried as she was, or frankly at all, about the consequences if they failed. You’d think not existing would be troubling, but he didn’t seem bothered. That was, she supposed, one of the perks of thinking the Council was full of beans. He considered the whole thing a wild goose chase, but had learned enough not to repeatedly point that out.

  He was quick, however, to point out that getting her face plastered all over the biggest newspaper in San Francisco wasn’t exactly time travel etiquette. Not that he could really be angry with her for it. It was, as he put it, quintessentially Elizabeth, and without it he might not have found her so quickly.

  With only four days until the attempt on Graham’s life, they needed to learn more about who might want him dead. That meant finding out more about the Admiral and the union workers who’d protested his speech. Failing that Elizabeth was going to have herself surgically implanted to Graham’s side.

  A horse cart clattered past followed closely by a buzzing handful of flies and Elizabeth squinted up into the afternoon sun. It was an unseasonably warm spring day. Add to that an endless supply of dust and Elizabeth, as they said back home in Texas, was mighty parched.

  Over the din of the traffic, Elizabeth heard the tempting gurgling sound of water. It appeared to be coming from a large bronze obelisky type thingy. It was a bit like a streetlamp on steroids that had large lion heads growing out of its base. And out of those lion heads streamed fresh, at least she hoped it was fresh, water.

  “Now that’s a drinking fountain,” Elizabeth said as she started to lean over to take a swig.

  “Elizabeth,” Simon said with a scowl and a shake of his head.

  “What? I’m thirsty?”

  “You are also a lady. Theoretically,” he added winning pursed lips from Elizabeth. Simon merely arched an eyebrow in response and continued, “Wouldn’t you rather have a nice cold lemonade or a martini?”

  “Is the Pope Catholic?”

  “Really, Elizabeth.”

  She gave him a cheeky grin.

  He sighed and gestured to an enormous building across the street. “My hotel.”

  “Why, Mr. Cross! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d brought me here on purpose.”

  It was his turn to grin and Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh. How she loved that smile. It made all sorts of promises she couldn’t wait to collect on.

  ***

  “As big as Hell and half of Texas,” Elizabeth whispered to herself as they entered the Palace Hotel’s Grand Court.

  Simon approached the front desk and asked for his room key. The clerk quickly obliged and Simon led Elizabeth to one of the “rising rooms” as they called them. The elevator was a little unsteady as it inched its way up to the sixth floor. It gave one last lurch and bumped to a stop. Elizabeth gripped Simon’s arm.

  He smiled down at her. “You get used to it.”

  When they reached Simon’s room, Elizabeth hesitated. “I’m not sure this is…proper.”

  Simon keyed the door open and turned to her, leaning in close. “I’m sure it isn’t.”

  ***

  The late afternoon sun was just starting to dip behind the buildings and hills of Market Street. In the coming sunset even red brick looked hewn out of gold.

  “It’s incredible,” Elizabeth said as she stood at the window and pulled the sheet tightly around her body. They’d made love and washed away the sins of the past week in the process. “I had no idea the city was so big already.”

  She didn’t need to look to know that Simon wasn’t enjoying the view, at least not the same one she was. She could feel him watching her. Finally, she turned to face him. He’d already dressed, mostly. He was barefoot and his starched white shirt was still undone. Her button-down professor was damn sexy when he was unbuttoned. For her part, she was going to enjoy her unfettered, beneath-the-sheet nakedness as long as possible.

  He started to say something, but stopped. Instead, he reached out and caressed the edge of her jaw with back of his fingers. The way he looked at her always made her stomach drop, but this time there was more to it. It was so tender, so happy; it made her heart ache.

  “I missed you too,” she said.

  He nodded and she could see the muscles of his jaw clench briefly. Taking pity on both of them, she stepped into his arms.

  They just held each other for a minute. And in that minute, they could have been anywhere or anywhen and it wouldn’t have mattered as long as they were together. That was a truth Elizabeth clung to.

  Simon eased back a little and looked into her eyes. He held them for a moment before tilting his head down and capturing her mouth in a kiss. It was soft and gentle, like a first kiss.

  It was a tiny spark at first, but it grew quickly. Elizabeth could feel it well up inside of her and she pulled Simon closer as she deepened the kiss. Simon’s arms wound around her waist and pushed her body against his. He sat down in one of the large overstuffed chairs and pulled her down onto his lap.

  She reached behind him to move his jacket from the chair, but it felt oddly heavy. She reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pistol.

  “What’s this?” she said.

  He took it from her hand and placed it on the end table. “A gun,” he said and leaned in to kiss her neck.

  “Simon! You know how I feel about guns.”

  “And you know how I feel about you. And if you don’t, let me show you,” he added as he pulled her closer. “Again.”

  He kissed her soundly and any reply was quickly forgotten. A knock at the door ruined the moment.

  “Bugger.”

  “I’ll get it,” Elizabeth said as she slipped off his lap, picked up her sheet train and started for the door.

  “Very funny.” Simon grabbed her arm and nudged her to the bedroom. With a frown, she hid in the hall and peeked around the corner. The bellboy kept his eyes to himself as he placed their drink tray down on a table. Simon fished into his pocket, tipped the boy and hurried him out.

  “Where were we?” he said.

  “You were going to show me something…again,” Elizabeth said with a wink.

  “That’s right,” Simon said and handed Elizabeth her drink. “Cheers. I could order some food, if you’d like.”

  Elizabeth winced at that. “I’m having dinner with Max later, remember?”

  Simon grunted. “Ah, yes. About your date—”

  “It’s not a date, Simon, and you know it. Max is a nice guy.”

  “Have you forgotten the last time you went out to dinner with a ‘nice’ guy?”

  She hadn’t forgotten. You don’t forget a dinner with a vampire. Ever. But she wasn’t going to rise to the bait. “Max is a nice guy,” she repeated. “And yes, while technically they might be dates, to me their strictly mission-related outings.”

  She raised her chin high and tried to look mighty. It was a bit of stretch to pull off haughty though while wrapped in a king sized bed sheet.

  “I see.”

  She was about to give him what-for when she noticed the edge of his mouth quiver. He was trying not to laugh.
He was toying with her.

  “Very funny,” she said.

  Simon took another sip of his drink. He was maddening when he was calm. “I trust you.”

  “Then you don’t mind?” Elizabeth said skeptically.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Elizabeth huffed out a breath and plopped into a chair. “Simon-”

  “Elizabeth,” Simon said simply. “I trust you. You know that. Harrington is another matter.”

  “He’s not going to try anything tonight.”

  “No, he isn’t.”

  “You sound awfully sure of that,” Elizabeth said.

  “I am.” Simon took another sip of his drink. “I’m going with you.”

  “Oh, Simon. I don’t think--”

  He put his glass down and stood up. “Don’t think,” he said holding his hand out to her and pulling her up and into his arms. He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. “We’ve both done enough thinking.”

  He trailed kisses down her neck and with one fluid movement undid the loose knot she’d used to tie the sheet around her. It fell to the floor at their feet.

  He scooped her up and into his arms. “Thinking’s definitely overrated.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Max obviously hadn’t been pleased with the new arrangement for dinner, but he was too much of a gentleman to make a scene. Of course, that didn’t stop him from taking a few corners too sharply and sending Simon sliding dangerously across the back seat of his car. Elizabeth had even seen Max smile to himself when he’d heard Simon’s epithets after they hit a particularly deep pothole.

  It was a hair-raising ride as usual, but they made it to the Poodle Dog restaurant in one piece. As Simon extricated himself from the backseat, his expression signaled that tropical depression Simon had been upgraded to tropical storm.

  Elizabeth patted his arm gently and straightened the collar of his jacket. “Please, Simon,” she whispered.

  No matter how much Simon hated it, they couldn’t afford to alienate someone like Max. He was their golden ticket through just about every door in town.

  Simon grunted, but she could see his eyes soften.

  The Poodle Dog restaurant was housed in a large six-story brick building. On the outside it was non-descript, but inside it was rococo gone loco. The large dining room had dozens of lavishly laid tables. The walls were covered with rich embroidered silks. Venetian glass chandeliers hung low from the gilded ceiling. And the chairs looked like they might get up and walk out on their thick, curved legs. It was wonderfully ridiculous. A lot like her three-way date, thought Elizabeth.

  Both Simon and Max reached to pull her chair out for her. Each man held tightly onto his side of the chair and glared at the other. Elizabeth stood in no-man’s land until the maître d’ came to her rescue, clearing his throat and slipping between the two men.

  “Mademoiselle.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a glance at Simon and Max that held a healthy dose of “snap out of it.”

  Simon grumbled something about the French and Max frowned, but they both released the chair and took their seats with all the grace of two schoolboys who’d just had their knuckles rapped. The maître d’ handed them the menus and when it came to the wine list, he held it out and raised a questioning eyebrow.

  Max snatched it from his hand. “Please,” he said, cutting off Simon’s protest. “You’re my guest.”

  Simon’s manners hadn’t completely dissolved. That and a quick kick in the shin under the table brought a tight smile and deferring nod.

  Max gave the list a quick scan before handing it back. “Château Mouton Rothschild, ’78.”

  Simon gave a quiet, but not too quiet “humph”. If Max heard the disdain in it, he ignored it and turned his attention back to Elizabeth. And the game was on.

  “So, Cross,” Max said with an easygoing smile. “You don’t mind if we dispense with the title, do you? This is America after all.”

  Elizabeth nearly blurted out, “What title?” but managed to stop herself. He would be explaining that later.

  “Of course,” Simon said to Max. “If it makes you uncomfortable.”

  Max’s lips quivered with the strain of keeping his casual smile in place. “I understand you’re here from New York. What brings you to our fair city?”

  Simon cast a quick, but meaningful glance at Elizabeth before answering. “Business.”

  “What sort?”

  Elizabeth had a flash of panic, but Simon answered smoothly. “Lloyds.”

  “Insurance?” Max said with a relieved smile. Any tension he’d had slipped away.

  “And investments,” Simon added.

  Max turned to Elizabeth, effectively dismissing Simon. “I’m sure it’s fascinating.”

  Simon’s expression was enigmatic. “At times. Regardless, I hope to conclude my business here quickly,” he said with a glance at Elizabeth.

  “If there’s anything I can do to hurry it along, old man,” Max added. “Don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Very kind of you,” Simon said flatly.

  “I have to admit I find most business rather tedious,” Max said as the waiter returned with their wine. “Life’s too short to spend it sitting behind a desk. Did you know that there are tribes of Negro half-men, barely the size of a child, in the darkest jungles of Africa. And legends of gold beyond your wildest imaginings in the hidden tombs of the Pharaohs of Egypt.”

  Simon coughed and nearly choked on the wine. They’d both had their share of the “Kings” of Egypt during their last adventure. Elizabeth cast Simon a pleading glance.

  “I’m sure it’s fascinating,” Simon said in a voice so dry it could have been vermouth.

  “It is,” Max said earnestly, missing the barb. “Of course, it’s not for everyone. The world needs bankers and insurance salesmen. No offense, old man. But for some…” he said as he turned to Elizabeth. “That’s not enough, is it?”

  Elizabeth ignored the question, knowing any answer would lead to a path she’d rather not go down. “Max is planning on racing his car from Paris to…”

  “Peking to Paris, actually.”

  “Right. Peking to Paris. Isn’t that interesting, Simon?”

  “Fascinating.”

  The conversation ground to a fine-grained halt. Apparently, in some cases, silence was more awkward than golden. Simon’s last jab had ended the round and left both men sitting in their corners prepping for the next. Before the bell could ring, Elizabeth jumped into the fray.

  “Simon has travelled quite a bit himself,” Elizabeth said quickly.

  Simon narrowed his eyes, but caught her expression. She wasn’t going to put up with much more. Just a peek of her pique seemed to do the trick and he leaned back in his chair. “Europe and Asia, primarily. Good experience for a boy.”

  Max chuckled at that and leaned back in his chair to mirror Simon.

  Elizabeth sighed quietly. Men. “I haven’t traveled much.”

  It was true enough, a little time travel not withstanding. She’d seen a few states, but had never even left the country. The closest she’d come was a border town in Texas on a prom night best forgotten.

  “You’ve traveled across America. That’s more than most,” Max said. “I’m amazed the men of New York let you leave, actually. However, their loss is my most pleasant gain.”

  Elizabeth blushed and thought she could actually see a puff of steam come out of Simon’s ears.

  The waiter came just in the nick of time to ward off any biting reply Simon might have been about to make. Whatever it was, he washed it down with a half glass of fine wine.

  Once they’d placed their orders, the awkward silence returned.

  “So, Cross,” Max said draining his own glass. “How do you know our dear Elizabeth?”

  “Dear Elizabeth,” he said between clenched teeth and a tight smile. “Old family friend.”

  “Did you go to school with her father?” Max said. Elizabeth saw Simon’s
jaw clench at the dig. “I’d very much like to meet him some day.”

  Elizabeth’s chest tightened the way it always did when someone reminded her that she’d never see her father again. Everyone said the feeling would fade away in time. She was still waiting.

  “I didn’t have the honor of knowing Elizabeth’s father,” Simon said. “I very much wish that I had.”

  That made Elizabeth smile. Her father and Simon couldn’t have been more different. And yet, she knew they would have somehow gotten along. What she wouldn’t give to have seen them meet for the first time.

  “My father passed away,” Elizabeth explained for Max’s benefit.

  “I didn’t realize,” Max said, but she waved away his apology.

  ““It’s all right. Both of my parents are gone. I’m the last of my kind.”

  “A rare and beautiful thing. Just what every adventurer hopes to find,” Max said as took hold of her hand brushed a light kiss across her knuckles. “Treasure.”

  Elizabeth felt a blush steal up her cheeks and took a quick sip of water. “Fool’s gold.”

  “Hardly. Isn’t she lovely when she’s embarrassed?” Max said with a smile. “I think I could grow quite used to seeing that.”

  “Really?” Simon said casually. Or at least it sounded casual to the uninitiated. Elizabeth knew better. And that was definitely steam.

  Oblivious, Max continued on. “What man wouldn’t? Surely, you have no shortage of suitors back home.”

  Elizabeth stole a quick glance at Simon. “It’s complicated.”

  “A beautiful and charming woman like you. How complicated can it be?”

  Elizabeth fiddled with the collar of her blouse and resisted the urge to look at Simon. “You’d be surprised.”

  “New York must be filled with blind men and idiots. Present company excepted, of course,” Max said with a nod toward Simon. “You should be proposed to regularly. In fact, I may take it upon myself to remedy the situation.”

  Elizabeth laughed. Simon did not.

  ***

  The rest of dinner was a mixture of tense and tenser. Max was either unaware, didn’t care or enjoyed discomfiting Simon. Whatever his reason, he continued to court Elizabeth subtly and not so subtly through the entire meal. Maybe Simon was right. It looked like to Max, their outings had been dates.