Page 126 of Flirting with Forever

Peter blinked, dizzy with the treasure that had just been laid at his feet. “I-I—”

“But you must come tonight.”

“Tonight!” Cam cried. She felt as if she’d spent the evening having chunks of her happiness hacked away with a butcher knife. “No, please.”

Mertons looked down, ashamed. “I’m sorry, Miss Stratford. The Guild insists. The whole affair’s been an embarrassment to them. They want it to end. Peter, you’ll be back in your studio by morning.”

Peter was lost in a world he’d let slip through his fingers. Cam watched him work the emerald signet ring, savoring his first taste of a life free from guilt and pain, a parched man handed water.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Peter, you must,” she said.

He licked his lips, staring far into the snowy night. She touched his hand. He looked surprised, and she directed him to open it. When he did, she pulled a hairpin from her hair and placed it there. “Just think of me every once in a while. That will be all I need.”

“Campbell, I…”

“You know what you must choose. For her. For your son.”

Cam heard a clatter behind her and turned. It was Jeanne, running toward them, looking panicked. “You look different when you’re smiling,” she said to Mertons, and to Cam: “C’mon, Packard wants to see you.”

“Not now.”

“It’s important.”

Peter caught Cam’s hand and squeezed it. “Self-confidence, remember. Go. I’ll wait.”

Cam could barely breathe. “You will?”

“Yes.” His dark eyes affirmed the promise. “I swear it.”

“Peter,” Mertons warned.

But Cam didn’t have to run. Packard strode in, mouth tight. “I need you to convince Ball to let us look at it.”

“Sure,” Cam said. “Where is he?”

“The boardroom.”

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Packard said. “Our curator was overheard saying it was a fake and that you did it. I don’t believe you did it, but I’m in a tough spot, with my key expert having once disputed it.”

Peter made a low growl. “I think you will find proof enough when you examine it.”

* * *

Mertons looked at his watch. “We can’t stay long. A quarter hour at most.”

Peter, awash in a raging sea of emotion, said, “We’ll stay.” He gazed at the Bonnard. He knew exactly why Bonnard had done it. He thought of Ursula and his son and what it means to love someone. He thought of that ring, back on Cam’s finger after she’d removed it this afternoon and placed it in her pocket. He thought of his own ring and the many years it had represented a burden he couldn’t unshoulder. He even thought of Rick and Ilsa. How long he stood there he didn’t know. He knew what he had to do.

“Where did they say they were?”

Mertons looked at his watch. “Peter, you don’t have time.”

“To hell with you and your requirements. I’m saying good-bye.” Peter ran.

Fifty-nine

Ball gazed at his hands on the boardroom table and sighed. Cam said a silent prayer.