asked. “And more importantly, where are our keys?”
“Why don’t you check your pockets?” Harry suggested.
“You’re damn right!” Craig exclaimed, taking out his key ring; a single push made his Ferrari beep. “Not bad. I’ve always wanted a baby like this.” He slid his fingers along the door and then jumped in.
The rest followed his example. They had already started their cars when Ashley shouted, “Guys, hold on! Let’s keep in touch in case…” Her words were swallowed by the roar of starting cars.
“I can’t hear anything, Ash! Don’t worry; everything’s going to be awesome. Yippie!” Wayne cried starting his Porsche. He waved at her and then was gone.
Ashley looked around; she was the only one left. She tentatively came closer to the shining red Rolls-Royce. She liked retro cars and wasn’t surprised she’d bought this one.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
She turned around and saw Harry – he was standing next to her, looking at her with interest.
“On the contrary, I do. Everything seems like a fairy tale come true, but…” She sighed and shook her head. “Don’t mind me, I must still be in shock because of the drastic change in…well, in everything.” She laughed nervously.
“Ashley, I want you to know that you can always, uhh… You can always go back and change your present.”
A faint smile formed on her lips as she entertained the thought that whenever she needed, she could always return to her past and change the present.
Chapter 12
In the early afternoon, Chad’s car stopped at a gorgeous house in Malibu. A huge hedge of carefully cut bushes was hiding the house from the eyes of passers-by. He looked at the sheet of paper Harry had printed for him – the address matched, as did the photo of the house. He couldn’t believe it was true – everything was so fantastical. He opened the door, touching the scanning device with his thumb and the machine read his fingerprint.
“Welcome back, sir,” the gatekeeper greeted him.
The first thing Chad noticed was the small house where the guard most probably lived. Then he turned his eyes to his villa – not very big, and yet an exceptionally impressive two-storied building in the Modernist style. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he saw paintings by his favorite artists hanging on the walls: Andy Warhol, Van Gogh, and Picasso.
“That’s impossible!” he said, touching the canvases with his hand. “Are they real?” he thought, when somebody’s voice made him turn around abruptly.
“You’re finally back.”
Chad saw a tall and attractive blonde coming closer to him with a martini in her hand. Seeing a woman in his house startled him. Had he become straight or something? That would have been ridiculous.
“Who are you?” he asked hesitantly.
“Who am I?” The blonde frowned and sat on the couch. “When are you going to stop mocking me?” He caught an angry note in her voice. “Sometimes I wonder if you despise me.”
“I don’t know why I…”
“I’m your fucking cover!” she snapped.
“My cover?” he asked cautiously. “And what about Martin? Where is he?”
“Martin?” she repeated. “I thought it was Dave; anyway, I don’t keep track of your boyfriends.” She rose and came closer to him. “Kevin called, he said you two had an agreement for a special photo shoot tomorrow. He asked if you could call him back.” She hesitated. “You look good.” She made an unsuccessful attempt to smile and went up the stairs.
Chad took a deep breath when she’d gone away. So this was what his life looked like now? Being a closet gay and having a girlfriend as a cover? And who was Kevin? Chad wondered if he knew Martin at all. There were too many questions he needed to answer. To start somewhere, he decided to read everything he could find about himself on the internet. His girlfriend was called Rebecca George and, according to official information, they’d been
“Why don’t you check your pockets?” Harry suggested.
“You’re damn right!” Craig exclaimed, taking out his key ring; a single push made his Ferrari beep. “Not bad. I’ve always wanted a baby like this.” He slid his fingers along the door and then jumped in.
The rest followed his example. They had already started their cars when Ashley shouted, “Guys, hold on! Let’s keep in touch in case…” Her words were swallowed by the roar of starting cars.
“I can’t hear anything, Ash! Don’t worry; everything’s going to be awesome. Yippie!” Wayne cried starting his Porsche. He waved at her and then was gone.
Ashley looked around; she was the only one left. She tentatively came closer to the shining red Rolls-Royce. She liked retro cars and wasn’t surprised she’d bought this one.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
She turned around and saw Harry – he was standing next to her, looking at her with interest.
“On the contrary, I do. Everything seems like a fairy tale come true, but…” She sighed and shook her head. “Don’t mind me, I must still be in shock because of the drastic change in…well, in everything.” She laughed nervously.
“Ashley, I want you to know that you can always, uhh… You can always go back and change your present.”
A faint smile formed on her lips as she entertained the thought that whenever she needed, she could always return to her past and change the present.
Chapter 12
In the early afternoon, Chad’s car stopped at a gorgeous house in Malibu. A huge hedge of carefully cut bushes was hiding the house from the eyes of passers-by. He looked at the sheet of paper Harry had printed for him – the address matched, as did the photo of the house. He couldn’t believe it was true – everything was so fantastical. He opened the door, touching the scanning device with his thumb and the machine read his fingerprint.
“Welcome back, sir,” the gatekeeper greeted him.
The first thing Chad noticed was the small house where the guard most probably lived. Then he turned his eyes to his villa – not very big, and yet an exceptionally impressive two-storied building in the Modernist style. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he saw paintings by his favorite artists hanging on the walls: Andy Warhol, Van Gogh, and Picasso.
“That’s impossible!” he said, touching the canvases with his hand. “Are they real?” he thought, when somebody’s voice made him turn around abruptly.
“You’re finally back.”
Chad saw a tall and attractive blonde coming closer to him with a martini in her hand. Seeing a woman in his house startled him. Had he become straight or something? That would have been ridiculous.
“Who are you?” he asked hesitantly.
“Who am I?” The blonde frowned and sat on the couch. “When are you going to stop mocking me?” He caught an angry note in her voice. “Sometimes I wonder if you despise me.”
“I don’t know why I…”
“I’m your fucking cover!” she snapped.
“My cover?” he asked cautiously. “And what about Martin? Where is he?”
“Martin?” she repeated. “I thought it was Dave; anyway, I don’t keep track of your boyfriends.” She rose and came closer to him. “Kevin called, he said you two had an agreement for a special photo shoot tomorrow. He asked if you could call him back.” She hesitated. “You look good.” She made an unsuccessful attempt to smile and went up the stairs.
Chad took a deep breath when she’d gone away. So this was what his life looked like now? Being a closet gay and having a girlfriend as a cover? And who was Kevin? Chad wondered if he knew Martin at all. There were too many questions he needed to answer. To start somewhere, he decided to read everything he could find about himself on the internet. His girlfriend was called Rebecca George and, according to official information, they’d been
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