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Vanessa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she glanced up from the chocolate pot toward Jake.
He had a streak of dirt on his cheek, his hair was windblown, and the sparkle in his eyes made butterflies swoop through her stomach.
“This must be it,” she whispered as she moved closer and reached a hand out to touch the blackened silver.
Jake held up the pot. “Man. You can just feel the history here.”
“Yes,” Vanessa murmured, her voice low, soft. She met his gaze. He did appreciate history, didn’t he? Her heart jumped. He totally got it. Completely. But she couldn’t get carried away. They were filming this, for heaven’s sake. She cleared her throat. “I, um, so, this is definitely the right pot then?”
“I’d say that’s a 99.9 percent yes,” Jake replied. “Rhonda verified this tree was here in the right time period. The carved initials N.W. match the name Nathaniel Wheeler. That letter from 355 is addressed to a Nathaniel, which coincides with what Rhonda told us about 355. Besides, a chocolate pot does seem like a pretty unusual choice to just bury randomly in your yard.”
Vanessa nodded. “It’s as close an explanation as we’re likely to get.”
“Since it’s so tarnished, we know it’s real silver. And it’s heavy. What’re your thoughts?” Jake said.
“I’m not sure. Can I see it?”
Jake handed the tarnished silver pot to her. She opened the hinged lid, which didn’t sit correctly. One of the delicate hinges had broken, and the handle had come unattached from its fittings on the side of the pot.
She peered inside. “Nothing in here.” She angled it so Jake could see.
“Mmm.” He rubbed his jaw, which made another streak of dirt.
Vanessa giggled.
“What?” Jake said.
“Your face...”
He pretended to look horrified. “Am I melting?”
“You have a streak of dirt right...there.” She pointed to her own chin.
He reached a hand up to his face. His brow furrowed.
“No, no, it’s—Here.” She reached out, brushed her fingers against his jaw. His stubble grazed her fingertips and the warmth of his skin made a thrill ripple through her.
She had to resist the urge to keep her hand there, memorize the shape of his face. Instead, she slowly brushed her thumb along his jawline where the dirt stuck, and it fell away.
She heard his breath catch as their eyes met, and the blood pounded in her ears. She forgot everything except the exact shade of his blue-green eyes in that moment, the way that his expression seemed to gauge and comprehend more than she could begin to understand. If she leaned in, put her hands on his broad shoulders, brought her lips to his—
Her stomach tightened. No. They were filming right this second. What was she even thinking? She dropped her hand. Brushed dirt vigorously off her capris. He was just here to shoot this episode. He’d be leaving in a matter of days.
He cleared his throat. After a beat of silence, he said, “Thanks,” and pulled his gaze back to the chocolate pot. “Well, if nothing’s in it, then we need to look on it. Why don’t we take it back to the house, polish it up, see what we can see? I’ll send a message to my boss’s husband Todd and ask his opinion, since he does know about antique silver pieces.”
“Good idea.”
With Rhonda’s permission, they set up an area on the wide farmhouse-style dining table in the kitchen and got to work.
Before long, the pot shone like new. Vanessa snapped some photos. “Might as well document this while we wait for Todd to get back to us,” she commented to Jake, who nodded.
“Could be something the museum could add to its collection,” she said to Rhonda.
“I’m sure I’d be happy to donate it. Your exhibit sounds very interesting.”
“We’d need to get all the paperwork arranged first, though.”
“Of course.” Rhonda waved a hand. “Not a problem.” She took a step over to their work site. “What have you found?”
Vanessa picked up the pot to show Rhonda.
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “We think that’s the maker’s mark—probably a European name—on the bottom.” He pointed.
Enque 7/64
“Interesting. Well, good luck. I’ll leave you two at it.”
Jake’s phone beeped as Vanessa set the pot back on the kitchen table.
Jake read the text. “So Todd said he’s never heard of that maker, but he said it does look like it could possibly be French. Also said it’s not consistent with the other kinds of silversmith’s marks common in the Colonial era.”
Vanessa frowned. “But what else could it be? There are no other distinguishing marks. Just a few dents and dings.”
“Which is kind of odd, right?” Jake said.
Jake’s phone pinged again. “Todd said he’s also asked his former boss at Rick’s Olde Gold in Madison. He’ll let us know when Rick gets back to him.”
“Okay.” Vanessa exhaled slowly. “it’s funny, because normally sterling like this is at least stamped 925.”
“Which indicates....?”
“The percent of silver in the piece,” Vanessa said. “Ninety-two point five percent, to be exact.”
“I thought you didn’t know anything about silver,” Jake teased.
“Oh,” Vanessa waved a hand, “that’s just basic knowledge.”
“Basic for a genius like you.” Jake raised a single eyebrow.
Vanessa laughed.
“So is the 7/64 a percentage or something too?” Jake said.
“Mmm, I don’t think so.” Vanessa pulled up the search engine on her phone. “A lot of times, if an artist, in this case, a silversmith, had been commissioned to create a series of similar works, the number of each piece would be stamped on the bottom.”
“So the seven indicates it’s the seventh of 64 pieces commissioned?” Jake said.
“That’s my educated guess,” Vanessa replied. Just then, her phone dinged. She checked her notifications. “Oh no. How could I’ve completely forgotten?” Her eyes widened and she glanced from her watch back up to Jake.
“What is it?” His brow furrowed.
“I need to get back into the city like, right now.” She shoved her phone in her pocket. “I have that final meeting with the event coordinator to go over the seating arrangements for the gala.”
She winced. “And I’m already late.”
Jake put a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll drive you.”
*
AFTER JAKE PULLED THE Land Rover to a stop in front of Vanessa’s museum, he took a deep breath as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Thanks so much, Jake,” Vanessa turned to him. “You didn’t have to drive me all the way back to the museum.”
Jake rubbed a palm against the smooth leather of the steering wheel. “You’re welcome.” He held her gaze. “I wanted to.”
“Well...” She picked up her purse. “I need to run.”
Jake’s heart rate sped up. It was now or never. “Wait. Vanessa?”
She paused, her hand on the door handle as she gave him a questioning look.
He held his breath a moment before he said, “I bought two tickets to the gala—gotta support history.” He cleared his throat. “But uh, would you want to go with me?”
A slow blush crept up Vanessa’s cheeks, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Jake’s heart skipped a beat as the silence stretched. Was she thinking of ways to politely reject him?
He felt his palms begin to sweat.
*
“YOU’RE INVITING ME to my own event?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Hey, any excuse.” Jake fidgeted with the stones on his bracelet. “But seriously.” He leaned forward, rested one forearm on the console. “You need a plus one, right?”
Vanessa’s cheeks heated but she found she couldn’t look away from him. Why was she hesitating? He was right.
Vanessa laughed as her stomach flipped. “Then my answer is yes, I’ll go with you.”
“So I can wear my fedora and leather jacket, then?”
Vanessa’s eyes widened. “It’s black tie.”
Jake chuckled. “You’re so fun to tease.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and poked a finger toward his chest. “It’s on Thursday night, mister. Not long from now, so you’d better be ready.”
*
VANESSA EXHALED LONG and slow in an effort to stop the pounding of her heart. But her pulse jumped anyway when she replayed that look in Jake’s eyes as he asked her to the gala.
She chewed on the inside of her lip. She’d chickened out of her own decision to ask him; he’d beat her to it. But she was more than a little relieved he’d chosen to take the plunge instead. Butterflies swirled through her.
“—have 500 arranged, then, correct?” Kali said.
Oops. Focus. Vanessa brought her attention back to her computer screen and the video call with her boss. “...Uh, yes. That’s correct. There are 500 tickets and all of them have been sold. We’ll have to wait and see what the totals are once the event is over and the proceeds from the silent auction are counted, but according to my preliminary calculations, the ticket sales should cover half of what we need for this fiscal year.”
“Right. Good. I trust the final meeting with the event coordinator went well?”
Vanessa nodded, and decided there was no point in mentioning she’d been late for it. “Everything’s all set and ready to go. All I need to do now is show up.”
“Good. I really wish I could go but I still don’t know how things will turn out with this latest surgery.” Vanessa saw the older woman rub her wedding band.
“Kali, I know you’re stressed, but please try not to worry about everything here. I’ve got it under control. You just focus on your husband, okay?”
Kali exhaled slowly. “I appreciate that.”
“You’re welcome.” Vanessa wished there was something else she could do to help out her boss. But having a successful gala event would be the best thing—for the museum, her boss, and her own job—at the moment.
Unless—a grin flitted across Vanessa’s face—she and Jake actually figured out 355’s identity and found the pearls. That would make Kali ecstatic, since it could save the museum—investor funding for a find that big would surely pour in.
Kali leaned forward. “You’ve gotten a plus one then, right?”
Vanessa fiddled with a strand of her hair as she nodded.
“Well,” Kali sat back. “Everything’s all set then. Good luck with it, and have fun.”
“Thanks.” Vanessa held up crossed fingers.
*
LATE THURSDAY AFTERNOON, the bell over the tiny dry cleaning shop tinkled as Vanessa exited. She threw the plastic garment bag over her arm, and smoothed her hand across the plastic. The sunlight shimmered across the iridescent silver threads in the midnight-blue taffeta.
She checked her watch. She’d made all the rest of the preparations, and the only thing left to do now was get ready. Her heart skipped a beat. The event started at seven o’clock.
She let herself back into her apartment and put the dress down on her bed. Then she texted Melissa. Just got my dress. Can you come down?
Be there in ten!
A little while later, a knock sounded at the door before Melissa let herself in. “Vanessa?” she called.
“In here,” Vanessa stuck her head out of the bathroom as she put the finishing touches on her toenail polish. She always wore this blush pink color for luck at big events. And tonight was definitely not going to be the first exception to her little rule, not when a date with Jake Ford was in the balance.
She wiggled her toes as they air dried, then padded barefoot from the bathroom back into her bedroom. Melissa was already there with her large makeup case. “So I’m thinking a pale shimmery silver would set off the midnight blue nicely,” her friend said as she arranged a set of brushes on the vanity table.
Vanessa nodded. “I totally trust your judgment. I’m hopeless with my own makeup application.”
“Can’t have you looking anything less than your best,” Melissa replied as she pulled out the vanity stool and indicated Vanessa should sit.
Forty minutes later, Vanessa assessed her appearance in the mirror. “You’re right. The silver eye shadow just really compliments this material.” She had a light dusting of blush across her cheekbones, and Melissa had pinned up her dark hair into a smooth French twist. “You’re a wizard with makeup.”
Melissa shrugged. “Just a side hobby.” She checked her watch. “You might want to put on the dress now. Jake should be here soon.”
Vanessa’s stomach fizzed at her words as she slipped into the low-backed gown.
“Perfect,” Melissa gave her a thumbs up as she helped zip up the dress.
“Thanks so much, Melissa. You’re the best.” She gave her friend a hug.
Melissa wiggled her eyebrows at Vanessa. “You’d better tell me every detail of your evening with Mr. Jake Ford when you get back.”
Vanessa raised her hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“Go on, then,” Melissa said. “Enjoy your evening.”
After Melissa left, Vanessa paced back and forth in her apartment’s foyer by the intercom. She resisted the urge to chew her lip. Couldn’t smear her lipstick. Not that it was something she usually wore. She was more of a low-maintenance kind of—
Buzz-buzz.
Jake.
Vanessa fumbled with her sling-back heels as she put them on then pressed the talk button. “I’m on my way down,” she said.
There was a crackle of static
“I—be wait—” Jake’s voice came through the intercom in a hiss of static. The building manager hadn’t yet got around to replacing the ancient wiring but Vanessa assumed Jake’d said he’d be waiting in the lobby.
Vanessa nearly dropped the keys as she left her apartment and locked it then realized she’d forgotten her wrap and her clutch. She shook her head at herself, darted in to retrieve them, and then re-locked the door.
She made her way down the stairs and rounded the corner to head into the lobby. Jake stood there in the foyer.
He wore a crisp white dress shirt underneath a black tuxedo jacket with a black bowtie, and his hair was carefully styled.
He looked up from his phone and met her gaze. As he put his phone in his jacket pocket, the hematite stones of his bracelet caught the light.
She smiled. You could put the man in a tux but you couldn’t take away his love of adventure.
She opened the interior door.
“...Hi, Vanessa.” Did he sound a little breathless?
She knew the feeling. Vanessa’s smile widened even as her heart sped into triple time. “Hi, yourself,” she replied.
“You look...amazing,” he said quietly, as his gaze took her in. She did a little twirl.
“Thank you.” She straightened her spine and gave him a slow appraisal. “And you look very dashing.”
He made a slight bow and pretended to doff a top hat. “You are too kind, m’lady.” He straightened and extended an elbow. “Shall we?”
She looped her hand over his forearm in response, and they stepped out onto the street together.
“I gave the horses a night off, so this Land Rover will have to do,” Jake said as he opened the passenger door for her. She got in and he shut the door.
She leaned across the console and opened the driver’s door for him from the inside. He chuckled as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Equal opportunity, eh?”
“Always,” she told him.
*
MORRISTOWN, NJ
As purple twilight fell, Jake pulled the Land Rover into a parking spot on the grounds of the Morristown National Historic Park. He turned off the engine, and he and Vanessa got out.
Vanessa’s silver heels clicked on the brick pavers as they made their way over to a white two-story clapboard Georgian-style home, surrounded by lush lawn and large trees.
“The Ford Mansion.” Jake read the sign. “Definitely not a relative of mine—that I know of.”
He caught the low hum of voices mingled with the sound of violins as they got closer to the party.
Strings of soft white outdoor lights were festooned around a wrought iron latticework, and a wooden parquet dance floor had been set up.
“Washington sure knows how to throw a party,” Jake said, in the hope the comment would distract Vanessa’s notice from the slight tremble in his tone. He swallowed. He hadn’t been this nervous—or this dressed up—since senior prom.
He took a deep, steadying breath. He could do this. He was doing this. He’d faced volcanic eruptions, mudslides and long treks through steaming jungles filled with poisonous spiders. He wasn’t going to cave now.
She’d said yes, so really, that was the important thing. He smiled as he watched her look around the outdoor space, an expression of slight awe on her face. A slight breeze came up and she pulled her silvery wrap a bit tighter around her shoulders as they approached the crowd.
“If you get cold, just let me know,” he murmured near her ear as her signature scent of sweet pea drifted to him. He closed his eyes a moment to savor it. “I can give you my jacket.”
She looked up at him, those big green eyes soft with appreciation and kindness. “Thank you,” she murmured back.
He saw her take a breath and hesitate a moment before she took a step away from him. “I need to go say hello to a few museum people.”
“Sure, no problem.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced around at the sea of strangers. “I’ll just...be here.”
He pushed away the brief thought that claimed she was leaving him here on purpose, just like Laura had. No, this wasn’t like that.
This wasn’t his engagement party, after all. He wasn’t being made to look like an idiot. He shook off the thought. Laura had been an entirely different person.
Vanessa put a hand on his arm for a moment and he sucked in a breath at the soft touch of her warm fingers. “Won’t be long.”
He nodded and she walked off. He fiddled with the stones on his bracelet. Should he have asked Bryce and the crew to come along? He winced. There was only about a week and a half to get this episode finished, and in to Sara.
But no, this gala really had no direct connection to what they were looking for. He pushed away the guilt that tried to needle him. Everyone on the team had been working hard. It was better to have a bit of a break. Some time off helped everyone be more productive, in his experience at least. They’d make up the slack tomorrow.
Jake wandered through the guests. Definitely a lot of big money out tonight. He noted the sparkle of diamonds and the glint of gold on more than a few guests.
These grounds were pretty extensive. He wandered in the direction of the house. Hmm. Was this the museum Rhonda had talked about? If they could take a look at Nathaniel’s original papers, that might be a huge help.
Looked like they’d opened it up for the party guests. That was a nice touch, not to mention convenient for him.
“Excuse me,” Jake said to the museum staff member who stood just inside the door. “A woman by the name of Rhonda Miller out on Long Island said she donated some Revolutionary War-era papers to a museum in Morristown. Is this the place where they are?”
The staff member thought a second. “Oh, you’re talking about the Nathaniel Wheeler documents. Yes, we have them.”
“Great.”
“Unfortunately, they’re not on display at the moment. But if you’re interested in things like that, Washington’s writing desk, along with some of his war correspondence, is on display in here,” the staff member said. “People often find that fascinating. Especially with the Culper code book currently on temporary loan from the Library of Congress.”
That’s right. Vanessa had mentioned the code book was on display here. “Thanks. Which direction is that?”
*
VANESSA MANAGED TO excuse herself from the long-winded monolog that one of her acquaintances had just started up. She scanned the crowd but didn’t see Jake anywhere. Where was he?
A momentary panic sidled up to her and whispered that he’d left her by herself because he wanted to only focused on his own personal gain, his own career. She shook off that thought. Jake wasn’t her ex.
She glanced over at the house and saw the golden glow of light from the first floor. Looked like people were coming and going inside, too.
She headed for the house and tried to dislodge the feeling of guilt that surfaced again at his expression when she’d had to step away from him earlier this evening.
She bit her lip but then shrugged. He was a grown man, and could handle himself. She wasn’t responsible for his reactions to her actions. It was her life, after all.
She slipped through the door and noticed the signage pointing to the display on Washington’s war correspondence. Oh, so that’s where they’d put the original Culper codebook, too. Hmm. Maybe Jake was doing a bit of research?
Her heels clicked on the hardwood as she made her way to the room set up with Washington’s correspondence. She saw a table with papers and maps strewn across it, and a set of leather-bound volumes stacked on one side. In the corner stood a Windsor chair with a tricorn hat cocked over one arm.
Jake had his back to her while he looked at a display near the doorway. A glass case to his far right held what looked like some sort of ledger book.
She came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, are you Jake Ford?”
He did a double take then chuckled. “Would you like an autograph?”
Vanessa’s heart skipped a beat at the gleam in his eye. “What were you reading?”
“Oh,” Jake gestured to the placard and then to the display, “What I’ve read so far is talking about Washington’s writing desk here and how he used it during his time as general in the Revolution. He apparently wrote his correspondence to the Culper members on it.”
Vanessa looked at the fold-front writing desk, which had a bottle of ink and a quill pen arranged on it, along with a china teacup and saucer. “Looks like burled maple. Gorgeous.”
Jake rubbed his hand across his jaw. “They certainly don’t make things like they used to, do they?”
“Definitely not.”
“By the way,” Jake said, “didn’t get a chance to ask earlier, but have you got any more leads on the Mason name?”
Vanessa lifted her palms. “It’s a bit muddy. I spent what felt like hours on several genealogy sites. Found an Isaac Mason from that time period but while his wife was listed as Elisabeth, they had no children. At least, none that any descendants had listed. Then when I tried cross-referencing, you know how many hits came back with the last name of Mason? A lot. It’s gonna take way more time than I thought.”
Jake’s jaw tightened for a moment. “If it makes you feel better, my team and I haven’t been able to find anything conclusive, either, and the clock’s ticking.” He drummed his fingers against his thigh. “But,” he straightened the cuffs of his tuxedo jacket, “I’m hoping things will get clearer.”
“You and me both.” Vanessa held up crossed fingers.
They both turned their attention back to the display case. Vanessa found herself standing closer to Jake—so she could read the placard more clearly, of course.
“Do you see that?” She pointed to the bottom half of the sign.
“What? Where?” Jake’s shoulder brushed hers.
“Right here.” Vanessa tapped the placard a bit farther down. “It says something about Agent 355.”
It’s widely known that Paul Revere used the coded signal ‘one if by land, two if by sea,’ and tasked Thomas Newton with hanging a lantern in Boston’s Old North Church to signal that the British were coming. What’s much less well-known is that Agent 355, one of the members of Washington’s Culper spy ring, also used this means of coded communication. Though in her case, it was through a pair of garnet earrings.
Vanessa held her breath as she continued to read.
That pair of garnet earrings have now disappeared into the mists of time. But in the summer of 1780, Agent 355 attended a ball held at the headquarters of the British military stronghold in New York City.
She purportedly wore that pair of earrings—for two reasons. The first, in order to warn a man named Nathaniel Wheeler, who worked adjunctly with the Culper ring, that a cache of pearls from France, shipped to the Colonies aboard the frigate Cignet, had ended up in the hands of the British.
[The cache, originally intended to be delivered to General Washington, was apparently awaiting transport by the British from New York to a more secure location in Newport, RI, once they headed off the French fleet set to land there. But the Culpers, who wanted to intercept the cache, didn’t know how the British would transport the pearls to Rhode Island.]
For the second reason, it is described that 355 used a pre-arranged code: one tier on her garnet earrings if the British went by land, two tiers if the British went by sea.
At the ball, she wore two tiers on her garnet earrings, thus letting the Patriots know that the British would transport the pearl cache by sea.
—original source from the papers of Nathaniel Wheeler,
donated by Mrs. R. Miller
––––––––
“BUT THE PEARLS NEVER made it to Newport,” Jake murmured.
Vanessa pulled out her phone. “If we look up the history of what did take place in Newport, that might tell us something.” Her fingers tapped the screen. “Says here that Washington basically decided to bluff the British.”
“Oh?”
“He drew up fake battle plans and got a messenger to deliver them. The messenger told the British the documents must’ve fallen out of a saddlebag, and that he’d found them by the side of the road. The fake documents indicated that the Patriots had planned an attack on New York City. That kept them occupied, so the French fleet could land safely with their troops in Newport.”
“Okay. We know that much anyway.” The sound of violins warming up drifted into the room.
“And we also know how the earrings I have were involved.”
“But that doesn’t tell us what happened after the ball. Or where the pearls ended up.”
Jake met Vanessa’s gaze and grinned. “But if I have anything to do with it, we’re going to find those pearls. First, though—” He extended his hand to Vanessa “—may I have this dance?”
*
JAKE LED VANESSA BACK out onto the lawn. His fingers, interlaced with hers, tightened briefly before he readjusted his grip to pull her into his arms on the parquet dance floor.
He laid one palm against the small of her back, and the heat from his hand seeped through the thin taffeta of her dress.
Tingles zipped up her spine. With such a low-cut back to her dress, if he moved his hand up just a fraction of an inch, his bare skin would be in contact with hers.
Vanessa held her breath as he held her gaze. They began to move in time to the soft violin music.
Her hand rested on his shoulder; she felt the play of muscle under her fingertips as they moved together.
She swayed towards him.
“I never would’ve guessed you knew how to dance,” she blurted out.
He chuckled. “You assumed I’ve only had lessons in treating a snakebite or swinging a machete?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Something like that. You dance well.”
“Thanks. So do you.”
They lapsed into silence for several beats.
“You look lost in thought,” Jake murmured, as he caught her eye amid the swirl of other couples on the floor. “Penny for them?”
“Oh, I...” Vanessa paused. “I was just thinking about travel.”
“Yeah?” He pulled her a little closer, their bodies now only inches apart
“I’d like to do a bit more of it. I’ve been so focused on my career, which I love, that I haven’t done much globetrotting. But you’ve been to...” She waved a hand.
“Too many places for a regular passport.” Jake winked. “Whenever I renew it, I always get the bigger diplomatic one—extra pages.”
“That’s what’s so great about your show. Viewers have a way to experience so many places they’ve never been, understand globally historic artifacts from a new perspective. At least, that’s why I enjoy the series. You must’ve done so many things around the world.” Vanessa paused and studied him. “This might sound cliché, but...why?”
As Jake took a deep breath, Vanessa felt his shoulders rise and fall. “I’ve done a lot of crazy things in my travels, for sure. When you’re high on adrenaline, a tightrope walk across an active volcano or an ice climb down Everest seems like a cake walk. You forget the risks. The danger.” He shook his head. Jake’s gaze focused inward for a moment, and his expression shifted from playful to...something else Vanessa couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I’ve always been a bit of a thrill seeker. My crew is basically the same way.”
Vanessa laughed. “How can you not be, given your occupation?”
“True...” Jake’s thumb absently stroked the back of her hand. A jolt zipped through her and her breath caught.
“Well,” Jake said in a quiet voice, “I have seen a lot of things, done a lot.” But the expression on his face seemed almost...sad?
He continued. “People look at what I do and see all the adventure, all the travel, all the exploration and think wow, that’s great. And don’t get me wrong, it is.” He smiled, his teeth very white in the dim, soft lighting. “I love what I do and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. But...” His thumb stopped stroking the back of her hand and Vanessa wished he hadn’t.
He let out a slow breath, and she felt it slide past her cheek. “What people don’t see are the long hours, the months and months away from friends and family.” He paused, held her gaze. “So that part’s pretty hard, actually.”
He steered them around an older couple who had stopped in the middle of the floor. “I’m gone almost 200 days out of the year. I mean, that’s what the position calls for. But it can take a toll.” He looked away for a moment. Swallowed hard. “On me, on people around me.” His voice grew husky. “On...those I care about.”
“What do you mean?” Vanessa asked quietly.
“My last girlfriend—” He cleared his throat. Blinked a few times. ”I mean, my last relationship ended badly because of the amount of travel I did for my last job...” He didn’t quite meet her gaze.
Vanessa’s heart swelled. “I can see how it would be tricky to balance everything,” she said softly. “Must be hard on your heart.”
Vanessa spread her fingers wide against his shoulder, and moved her hand down to press against the flat of his chest. She could feel his warmth through the crisp cotton, and as his sandalwood scent drifted to her, she found herself blinking back sudden moisture in her eyes. “My last boyfriend gave more significance to his career than to our relationship.”
She melted a little at the compassionate look in his eyes. “I kept thinking that somehow things would be different.” She sighed. “I mean—” She broke off and gave a soft laugh. “I’m sure you don’t want to know that much detail about me and my personal life.”
“I think it’s brave of you to share.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I appreciate your listening.”
“Of course,” he murmured near her ear, as the violin music swelled around them. “And thank you for listening to me. I don’t usually share that much with someone I’ve just met, but you are...” His gaze lingered on her eyes, then slid to her mouth.
Her breath stuck in her throat and her pulse sped up as his long, strong fingers glided up her bare back—
Her eyelids fluttered closed as he leaned close, lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. She moved her free hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him nearer.
Her heart swelled. Oh. She melted against him. As the warm softness of their kiss filled her senses, the slight roughness of his stubble grazed her cheek, and shot tingles through her. His hand came up to cup her face while he slid an arm around her waist, and tugged her closer still. She gave a quiet sigh. She felt like a helium balloon released skyward.
But a sudden vibration from his jacket pocket made her startle.
Buzz-buzz.
Jake ignored it.
Good. Because for a second—just one—she was reminded of her ex. He always answered his phone, no matter what was going on around him. But then Jake’s phone buzzed again.
Vanessa tensed. Wait a minute. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be kissing him, no matter how attracted she felt. She was getting too attached. And that meant she couldn’t see Jake’s character clearly. And when that happened, she’d wind up making the same mistake with Jake that she’d made with Eric...
What were they doing? Maybe Jake did like her, but he was leaving once the episode wrapped. This wasn’t a good idea for them to kiss. Let alone at a public event in the middle of a dance floor.
Buzz-buzz.
“Oh, uh, I’m sorry about that,” Jake murmured as he pulled away ever so slightly, his arms still around her. “Must’ve forgotten to put it to silent.”
*
BUT AS JAKE RELEASED her and slipped out his phone to check the screen, he saw something that looked like hurt disappointment in Vanessa’s eyes. She took a step back.
The violins faded and a faster song was struck up by the quartet at the edge of the dance floor.
“That’s all right,” Vanessa said. But Jake could see it clearly wasn’t, though he wasn’t sure why.
He saw her eyes dart from his phone to his face. She lifted her chin. “I—we, um—that was...”
She smoothed down her hair and took a deep breath, her spine straight. “Inappropriate.” She looked away and blinked rapidly.
Jake felt the joy he’d experienced moments before, in kissing her, vanish like invisible ink.
He shouldn’t have been so rash and impulsive. When would he learn? He swore under his breath. “Listen, Vanessa, I—”
She held up a palm. “No need to explain. it’s all right. Mistakes like this happen.”
Jake winced. A mistake? Is that what she thought their kiss had been? He could’ve sworn what they’d shared only a minute before indicated the exact opposite.
His stomach plummeted. He couldn’t help but remember Laura’s face as she broke things off, in front of all their friends. Left him standing there all alone at their engagement party...
His heart tightened. He’d picked up on Laura’s growing unhappiness that he was gone for long stints doing the show. She’d accused him of loving travel and freedom more than her. Ironic, considering she’d left him. But maybe she’d been right...
They were supposed to have gotten married. He clenched his jaw against the old hurt. Didn’t his proposal prove he’d loved her enough? He’d felt guilty about his love of travel and freedom getting in the way and causing the long distance element of their relationship, and wanted to fix things. He’d been so enthusiastically sure she’d been the one.
So he’d told her he would quit at the Travel Channel, and proposed to her. But it hadn’t fixed anything. Before he could quit, the show had been cancelled, and then she’d broken up with him.
Jake crossed his arms as he regarded Vanessa, so close, yet so far away. Maybe he didn’t deserve love in his life. He made himself take a steadying breath, but the pain lingered. He’d done it again: acted over-enthusiastic, made a leap of faith, assumed she’d felt the same...But she hadn’t.
A strange sort of sadness filled him. He obviously didn’t deserve love—people he cared about always left. It was true—with his kind of lifestyle, he didn’t deserve both freedom and love.
“Now,” Vanessa said, her tone much more formal, “I didn’t get a chance to look at the Culper codebook in that display. Did you?”
Jake clenched his fists and attempted to force his mind back to the task at hand. They needed to figure out the mystery of the pearls, and he needed to concentrate on getting one hell of an episode done and in, instead of on how Vanessa made him feel.
Jake took another breath. Maybe Vanessa had done him a favor, acting like this. At least he knew now that she wasn’t, apparently, interested in him.
He gave a brief nod, even as he tried to stem the flow of disappointment that coursed through him. No. Just focus on the mission, he told himself. That’s what mattered here. That’s what’s important.
“I didn’t.” His formal tone matched hers. “After you.”
As Vanessa turned and walked back up to the house, Jake read the message on his phone.
I was going through some of the interview footage to prep for the initial cuts. But I can’t seem to find the Townsend files. After I did the initial upload, you did transfer them to the editing suite, right?
Jake’s brow furrowed and his gut tightened. He swore under his breath as he scrolled through his contacts and hit Bryce’s number. Bryce picked up on the first ring.
“Hey man,” Bryce said. “How’s the party?”
“Oh, it’s fine.”
“That good, huh?”
Jake tamped down irritation at the teasing tone in Bryce’s voice. He didn’t have time for this. He gave a mental sigh. No, he shouldn’t take his frustrations out on his friend just because Vanessa had basically rejected him.
He pushed aside the hurt. They were only colleagues, after all. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to expect anything more.
Jake gave a forced laugh. “Sure is. Got your text. I’m sure I transferred the files to the online editing suite earlier today.”
“Okay, but I actually don’t see them there.”
A knot tightened in Jake’s stomach. “They should be.” That was the only copy of the interview footage they had from Therese Smith. She’d been hard enough to get ahold of in the first place.
If they had to reshoot....it could mean a serious delay in the production schedule. And with the deadline less than two weeks away now, they didn’t have time for this kind of thing.
Jake swore under his breath again.
“I’ve double and triple-checked, Jake. There’s nothing there.”
Jake rubbed his forehead. “So what do you suggest?”
“I can call the editing suite’s cloud service, see if they somehow misplaced something.”
“Good idea. Let’s get on that. We can’t afford to lose any footage. But especially not that footage.”
Jake hung up the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He surveyed the crowd as his heart squeezed. Had Vanessa changed her mind and left the party? His jaw tightened as he caught a flash of silvery-blue. No, there she was.
Looked like she’d headed back inside without him. Not that he blamed her. He sighed. He should’ve kept his distance to begin with.
A minute later, he stepped back into the exhibit room they’d been in earlier. Vanessa stood in front of a glass case with what looked like a ledger book that lay open on a pedestal.
Vanessa’s gaze flicked over him, her expression cool.
“Hi,” he said quietly, as he ignored the ping of sadness in his heart. But the show must go on—no pun intended. He almost smiled at that thought. Things must not be in dire straights if he still had his sense of humor. Right?
“Find anything?”
“Not yet.”
Jake stepped up to the case. “Hmm.” He glanced at the case and at the book inside. As he took a step closer to examine the book more fully, his thigh bumped the case.
There was a whirring noise, and Jake took a hasty step back. “What was that?”
He and Vanessa looked at each other; then Jake looked around the room. “I hope they’re not gonna throw us in jail for wreck—”
Vanessa clutched his arm suddenly as she pointed to the case. “Look.”
Jake used the excuse to move closer to Vanessa. “What?”
“Whatever you jostled was a mechanism to flip the book’s pages.”
“That’s a relief. I’m not sure how I’d explain this to my insurance company otherwise.”
Jake looked down. “There’s a button here.” He punched it with his finger. The page flipped backward. “It’s a toggle switch.”
He pressed it again and the page moved ahead. He was about to reverse the direction again with the original page showing, when Vanessa’s fingers tightened on his arm. “Wait.”
“What is it?”
Though she’d claimed their kiss was inappropriate, she still seemed comfortable enough around him to touch him. So maybe she’d simply meant the time and place of their kiss was a mistake? A small kernel of hope sprouted. He re-arranged the goofy grin on his face to something more serious and professional.
Vanessa pointed. “See? I never knew that before.”
“Knew what?” Jake read the lines Vanessa indicated. “It looks like a bunch of letters have been scrambled up.”
Vanessa shook her head. “Not scrambled, per se. Rearranged.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Vanessa shot him a look. “It looks as if the Culpers used that...” She scanned the usage notes penned in one column of the ledger. “...on occasion at the very beginning, when they were first figuring out what sort of coding method to use.”
She tapped a finger against her bottom lip. Jake couldn’t help but watch the motion and remember how good she’d felt pressed up against him, her skin warm under his fingers...
He cleared his throat, tore his eyes away from her mouth and back to the page. “That would make sense. They didn’t really know quite how to do the coding in the beginning, and from what my writers found while researching this episode, the masters of encryption at this point in history were the French. So the Patriots looked to them for an effective coding method. But I seem to recall that Benjamin Tallmadge experimented with different sorts of codes. Apparently, so did Washington.”
Vanessa turned to Jake, an excited look in her eyes. Jake’s heart skipped a beat.
“Do you know what this means?”
“Um, no.”
“Okay.” She took a breath. “Let me get this straight in my head. That chocolate pot we found was once in 355’s possession. She was a confirmed Culper ring member who would’ve known about, and been told, most likely, these first experimental codes, since she’d have to know how to use them.”
“I’m with you so far,” Jake said.
“Okay. So, what if,” she took a step closer to Jake, “she used that same encoding method—
“— on the chocolate pot,” Jake finished, as excitement fizzed in his chest.
Vanessa pulled out her phone. Scrolled back to the photo she’d taken of the chocolate pot they’d unearthed.
“We’ve been looking at this too literally,” Jake murmured.
Vanessa nodded. “Too straightforward. What if that Enque isn’t a maker’s mark or name at all? What if...”
“It’s a scrambled word.” Jake felt his phone vibrate.
“An anagram.” Vanessa said, as she looked back at the Culper code book. “Just like the Culper ring initially used.”
*
“BUT AN ANAGRAM OF WHAT?” Vanessa drummed her fingers on her thigh as she looked down at the antique book.
“Jake?”
She tried and failed not to notice how Jake had pulled out his phone and was looking more at it than at her or at the book itself.
A twinge of annoyance filled her. No response from the man.
“Jake.”
“Hmmm?” But he still didn’t look at her. He was concentrating hard on his phone, texting.
She tried and failed to push aside her growing frustration. She crossed her arms. This was a massive discovery. So why was he glued to his phone? Surely he realized by now just how significant this was to her? To them? To history?
But no. Apparently, he didn’t. She shot him a frown, and her frustration sharpened to deeper annoyance. Apparently, he cared way more about whatever was distracting him rather than what he should be focused on, right now.
She made herself take some deep breaths. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe he really did have some important emergency—
She darted a glance at his phone screen, which she could see since they were still standing quite close together.
He was on social media? Of all the times...Her heart clenched.
Yep. It looked like he was focused more on his online presence than this piece of history that was unfolding in front of them.
Typical.
A dart of anger surged through Vanessa. Why had she thought Jake would be different than Eric? She pursed her lips. She’d been fooling herself. She put her hands on her hips. She should’ve known he’d be just like her ex. All these acting types were the same—more concerned about their online image than anything else.
She tapped her foot. “Jake,” she repeated.
The frown of concentration stayed on Jake’s face even as he finally looked up at her. “Sorry about that. I—” He interrupted himself and put his phone away at Vanessa’s glare. A flicker of annoyance passed across his expression, and his mouth turned down.
Vanessa felt a twinge of guilt, which she pushed aside as she tapped the case with a finger, harder than necessary. “The anagram. Any ideas on what you think it’s of?”
Jake avoided eye contact. He shoved one hand in his pocket and rubbed his other hand across the back of his neck. “I’m not really sure... I mean, well, I guess it’s a matter of eliminating the possibilities.”
Vanessa nodded. “Enque. Well, that’s five letters. So there’s neqeu, euqen...”
Jake frowned up at the ceiling. “Uenqe...”
“Wait.” She smacked her forehead. “It’s so obvious... It’s queen.”
“Given the context of monarchy and rebellion, that makes sense.”
Vanessa hunched her shoulders. “But why not king? George III was on the throne.”
“There must be something we’re missing. But what?”
Vanessa tugged on a strand of her hair as she darted a glance at Jake. “Queen,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s singular. I’m guessing that’s significant, and—”
Jake’s phone rang. He grimaced. “I’m really sorry—gotta take this.”
Vanessa inhaled, about to respond. But he was already stepping away from her, pulling his phone from his pocket.
“There’s been a bit of a blow-up with the major media outlets about the show. It’s—” His phone rang again. “I need to answer this. I’m sorry,” he repeated.
To Vanessa’s eye, though, he didn’t look sorry at all, only relieved to be away from her. Vanessa’s gut tightened as she opened her mouth.
But he answered the call before she could reply. She balled her hands into fists and narrowed her eyes at the ceiling.
“Sara, hi. Yeah, I did. No, it’s not—I just saw.” A pause. “Unfortunately, yes. The Early Morning Show somehow picked it up... From social media, I guess.”
Vanessa clenched her fingers tighter. So this was how it was with him, huh? She tried to take a deep breath. But she couldn’t push aside the fear that began to swirl through her. He cared more about the show’s image and his own reputation than uncovering real history that could possibly change so many things.
Fearful certainty filled her. She’d been used again, gotten caught up in falling in love and hadn’t been able to see the warning signs clearly: his self-centeredness, his neglect and failure to acknowledge her. Why’d she think she’d be any better judge of character now, than she had been with Eric?
“What? We can’t have that happen. No. It’s not.” He turned away from Vanessa and raked a hand through his hair.
Her eyes stung. History was repeating itself. Her stomach dropped as Jake paced farther away from her. No, he wasn’t any different than Eric. She’d been an idiot to give him a chance to prove otherwise.
Jake continued to talk, but she no longer heard his voice. Instead, she saw the night of her very first museum exhibition. Recalled the expression on Eric’s face when she’d confronted him after her showing. Remembered their huge fight in the street.
She’d asked him why he hadn’t shown up, and he’d said he’d gone to an audition for his ‘sure-thing big role.’
She’d tried to get him to see how the showing was her ‘big thing,’ tried to explain how important this was for her.
But he hadn’t listened, had he? Hadn’t acknowledged her then. In fact, he’d never acknowledged her during their whole relationship, really. But she’d been stupid enough to think, to believe, after their big fight, that he still loved her, that he would get that role, so she’d forgiven him. Believed in him.
And then the next day, he’d dumped her. Said she was too obsessed with her work to be a good girlfriend. Told her he’d needed to focus on his career, and claimed that their relationship would only distract him, and get in the way.
Vanessa’s heart squeezed even as she pressed a hand to her chest. Her work was such a part of who she was... But he’d never acknowledged it—or her. Her eyes burned. She looked at Jake again. He didn’t meet her gaze.
“Right, okay. I’ll let you know right away. Bye.” Jake hung up the phone and turned to her, his expression shuttered. “Vanessa.” He glanced at his watch. “I know that I was supposed to be here for the rest of the party but I need to leave now. I’m sorry.”
Vanessa said nothing as her stomach dropped to the floor.
Annoyance flitted across Jake’s expression. “The show is going through a bit of a crisis. I need to do damage control and—”
“Oh, I get it. I do.” Her heart twisted as she struggled to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Your job is important—more important than mine.”
Jake jammed his hands into his pockets and the expression on his face darkened. “Vanessa, I don’t know what your problem is, but this show is important too. My career could be at stake and you’re—”
“—trying to focus on what’s really important.”
“So now you’re prioritizing your career over mine?”
“If we find the pearls, it’ll save the museum.” She put her hands on her hips. “And your show.”
“But we haven’t found the pearls. There’ll be no show to save if I don’t deal with this crisis first.” Jake crossed his arms. “Like I already said, this show, and my career, are important. To me.”
“Exactly,” Vanessa retorted. “To you. But you’re not—”
“Listening to you? That’s right, I’m not. You’re not the host, the producer or a network exec for this television series. You don’t have anything to lose if my show implodes. Which gives you no right to stand there and dismiss it.” Jake ground his teeth and shook his head. “You’re just like my ex. She was never supportive of me either.” He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “I thought—no—hoped, you were different than she was. Guess I was wrong.”
Vanessa opened her mouth to argue.
“Save your breath.” His brows lowered and he turned on his heel. “Because I’m done.” He walked out.