17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
The Reason by Hoobastank
April 13, 1912
I’m resigned to the fact that Charlie must despise me now, and any feelings I perceived he might have for me, romantic or otherwise, are long gone. How could I even blame him? Not only have I lied to him, but he now also shoulders the burden of knowing what will happen. I feel entirely selfish. I let my feelings cloud my judgment and get the better of me. I’ve sacrificed Charlie’s peace for the sake of my happiness and the joy I found in spending time with him. I’ve also jeopardized our work and the safety of Ben, Sarah, and Eric.
I climb out of bed and put on a pale pink silk tea dress with long lace sleeves and a dark pink accented velvet sash at the waist. The colors make me look far brighter and happier than I am. I wanted to just lie low today, but Ben insisted I have breakfast with him and I promised Violet I’d walk with her while Ben and John play shuffleboard. As much as I’d like to crawl into a hole of self-pity, I want to savor every moment I can with Violet.
I sit with Ben at breakfast in the saloon, hardly noticing plates of food put in front of me. I’m focusing all my effort on appearing perfectly fine, so as not to prompt any questioning from Ben. I’m trying to think of something to say to distract both myself and Ben, hoping I don’t slip up and tell him I’ve potentially ruined our mission, history, and possibly our lives. Luckily for me, Ben cracks the ice first.
“So Edward made a weird comment last night.”
I freeze as I spread jam on my scone. “Weird how?” Please don’t let this be about me.
“Francis was talking about some acquaintance they have. I’m not sure who he was, but his business is likely to go under from financial struggles. I think the guy stands to lose a fair bit of money with the closure. I was only half listening. Normally when they talk about finance and business, it’s so god-awful dull. I rarely have much to offer to the conversation because Edward loves to hear himself talk so much he constantly pivots everything back to himself. But he made a passing comment about how things like that are avoidable with a little strategy and ingenuity. I don’t know. I could be reading into it, but it felt like he was implying something. Maybe it’s just the way he said it. I mean, you know how his tone can be so…”
“Sly? Manipulative? Egotistical?” I rattle off every fault I can think of about the man whose only true love is himself.
“Yes! That’s exactly it. It felt like he was saying something without saying it, you know?”
I nod. I understand him completely. On the surface, Edward seems the pinnacle of wealth and propriety. It’s underneath that you realize he’s a charlatan, merely selling the appearance of a respectable man.
“What do you think, Al?”
I pause for a moment, trying to think before a possibility hits me. History remembers Edward Harrison as an incredibly successful business executive. A superpower within his field, never a misstep or wrong decision, and one of the last great tycoons. But what if the root of that success is manipulation and deceit? There’s no way someone becomes that much of a success without some skeletons in their closet. It seems unlikely that his reputation is so spotless, especially after having met him personally and seen for myself how arrogant he is.
“I have a thought, but I’ll need you to test the theory.”
Ben leans forward with intrigue. “I’m listening.”
“When you’re with him tonight, tell him one of your hotels is underperforming compared to the others. Occupancy is down and the building needs more repairs and upgrades than it is worth. It’s losing you money. Can you do that?”
“Yeah. Where are you going with this?”
“Ben, I need you to sell it, though. Don’t act like you care about the employees. You have to care about money only, and pathways to making the most possible. Make it obvious that it's your only goal and that the ends justify the means. You’re going to need to lay the douchebaggery on pretty thick, but he won’t be able to resist the bait.”
“Douchebaggery.” Ben giggles. “Is that even a word?”
“It is now.”
“I shall put in my best performance, I assure you.” His voice is over the top and theatrical. It’s clear he is going to enjoy this undercover project. “What’s your play here?”
“He’s gotta be doing something shady. I think you were right to be put off by what he said. I know he technically didn’t say anything incriminating, but I think if you hand him the rope, he’ll hang himself with it. If I’m right, and I think I am, I think he’s committing some kind of fraud. There’s no way a jackass like him took the squeaky clean path to success. There’s just no way.”
“Alright, let’s do it.” Ben laughs to himself. “You know, this might just be the first cigars and brandy session I’m looking forward to.”
I’m thankful Ben presented me with this side project to focus on. I’m hoping it will occupy enough time and space in my mind that I can distract myself from the mess I’ve made with Charlie.
After breakfast, Ben escorts me up to the boat deck to meet Violet before heading off with John.
Her eyes brighten as she notices me approach her. We link arms like two schoolgirls and stroll the deck. We talk about books as though there is no gap between our respective periods.
“I’m surprised Austen is your favorite, Violet.”
Admittedly, Jane Austen is my favorite author as well. The fact that we share the same favorite author makes me feel even more connected to her. I suppose I just never pegged her to be a fan of such romantic novels.
“Name me a character more spirited and headstrong than Elizabeth Bennet, or more gracious and selfless than Elinor Dashwood, or more clever and thoughtful than Anne Eliot. Maybe they are romances, but at their very core, they are stories about strong women.”
Her passion is contagious, and I find myself continuously in awe of this woman. I think she could sell me a used car that doesn’t even work with how easily she speaks from her heart.
I want to know everything about her, her life, her interests, all of it. I know I should focus on Alice Carney, but I just want to know more about Violet.
“Do you like music?” I feel embarrassed subjecting her to a game of twenty questions, but I just want to soak in every moment with her, because soon enough I will be without her again.
“I love music. I actually play piano.”
“Me too.” I suddenly realize that the piano that sits in the formal living room is Violet’s as well. Our hands have grazed the same keys, possibly playing the melodies of the same songs.
“Admittedly, much of what I play now is amusement for the girls,” she laughs, referring to lullabies and children’s nursery rhymes. “What is your favorite song, Alice?”
Shit . Do I even know a song from this time? I’m sure I know many, but I’m not entirely certain of the exact dates they originally came out. I don’t want to name one and find out it came out five years later. I have to take a complete stab in the dark here and hope for the best. I remember a song from when I was a kid watching Anne of Green Gables. Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe danced to it at their wedding. They were the quintessential enemies to friends to lovers trope, and I grew up adoring their slow-burn romance. “Uh, ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart.’”
“Oh, yes. That’s a lovely song.” She smiles at me before tilting her head, as if she’s trying to decide hers. “I think mine is ‘It’s Hard to Kiss Your Sweetheart When the Last Kiss Means Goodbye.’”
“I’m not familiar with that song.”
Violet smiles and quietly begins singing.
It is hard to kiss your sweetheart
When the last kiss means goodbye
You are grieving all the while
No matter how you try
Although your lips are smiling
From your heart there comes a sigh
It is hard to kiss your sweetheart
When the last kiss means goodbye
Her voice is hauntingly beautiful, but this song is an absolute stab to my heart. I can’t help but feel guilty as she sings. She doesn’t know what is coming for her and how quickly it approaches. She doesn’t know that she will lose her sweetheart, that their last kiss will mean goodbye.
Selfishly, I also think of Charlie. Though I have not kissed him, and that’s certainly not for a lack of desire to, our goodbye is also drawing near. He may never speak to me again, and I understand his reasons for that, but I can’t help but grieve what I’ve never had. I will lose him, and Violet, sooner than I am ready for. Sometimes life is unexplainable. You meet people for a reason and a season. Some are temporary and some, if you’re lucky, are permanent. I know in my heart that I met both Violet and Charlie for a reason. And maybe they are temporary, but the lessons they both have taught me are permanent. They have both left handprints on my heart and that is something that time and distance can never take away.
We are interrupted before I can awkwardly ask any more questions. Sarah walks up to Violet and me, and does her best public impression of servitude. “Miss Alice, it’s time to get you ready for dinner. Mr. Turner has already returned to the cabin.” I look beyond Sarah and see John approaching to collect Violet.
Violet looks at the sun settling into golden hour. “Oh goodness, we’ve completely lost track of time.” I was so wrapped up in conversation with her, I never heard the dinner call. “I’ll see you at dinner, Alice.” She smiles and nods to both of us before departing with John.