I’d bought the damn donuts just to make myself feel a little better. On the ride over, I’d been trying to come to grips—again—with the difference in prices with everything from my time to things in 1962.

It was…unreal.

The money Florence was paying me seemed like a pittance, but she’d seemed so proud to be able to offer me a whole three dollars an hour.

But those checks, three dollars an hour, amounting to a whopping $120 a week, stretched pretty damn far when things like donuts cost seventy cents a dozen.

The yeasty, sugary smell promised all sorts of ways to eat my feelings as the driver drove through the gates to the studio.

But then he stopped and I climbed out—I never waited for him to open the door—and I stupidly glanced around.

And there they were.

Glenn and Florence, caught in a lip lock that hit me like a fist straight to the gut.

Even though I had encouraged Glenn to pay more attention to Florence, even arranged it so they would spend time alone together this morning, I wanted to throw my seventy-cent bag of donuts at them. I wanted to grab her and push her away. I wanted to hit him.

Instead, I took a slow, deep breath and turned on my heel, pausing just long enough to look at the driver. “Thanks…ah, it’s Calvin, right?”

The man with the bright red hair and soft brown eyes smiled at me shyly. “Yes, ma’am.” Then he held up the bag of donuts I’d bought for him—a dozen, another seventy cents. “Thanks for the donuts, Miss Cruz.”

Nodding, I continued inside, not once looking back, even though I heard Florence calling my name.

I just kept on walking, as if I hadn’t heard her.

She didn’t say it again, which saved me the guilt from doing it a second time. But it would have been hard explaining to either of them why I looked like I was about to cry.

* * *

“You aren’t going to believe this!”

Florence had ended up dragging me into her dressing room nearly two hours after we’d arrived at the studio. It would have been sooner — numerous people had told me she was looking for me – but I’d worked very hard to be where she wasn’t until I had composed myself.

I knew it was for the best, her being with Glenn, but at the same time, it hurt like hell, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.

Now, as stable as I was going to be, I gave her a curious look and offered my best smile. Maybe her acting talents were wearing off on me. “Yes?”

“I think Glenn is going to propose!”

I felt lightheaded all of a sudden. Reaching up, I touched the necklace I’d taken to wearing, just making sure it stayed hidden under my sweater or blouse. It pulsed and burned. My stomach pitched and hurled.

I thought I was going to be sick.

Seriously sick.

“You…I…what?”

“I know!” She bounced on her toes and clasped her hands just above her heart. With a heavy sigh, she dropped down into the chair. “He’s taking me out to dinner tonight. And he said he had something he’d been wanting to talk to me about. I think he’s going to propose!”

A sound behind me had me turning around.

Florence looked as well.

She hadn’t shut the door and now, filling the doorway, Glenn loomed, eyes burning as he stared at her.

Florence said, “Oops.”

I just gawped at him.

“I guess it was supposed to be a surprise,” she said softly.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t get the words out. Instead, I just nodded and strode to the door. When he didn’t move out of my way, I pushed at him until he did.

I had to get out of here.

I had to.

Turning my back on them, I walked briskly down the hall as if nothing was wrong.

Of course, everything was.

Absolutely everything.

Hearing Glenn call my name, I ducked into the first open doorway I saw. It was a long corridor, so I slid inside a door at random and hid behind it, breath held until I heard his footsteps go by, then fade into nothing.

I couldn’t talk to him right now. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to talk to him again. I’d have to, though. I’d have to talk to both of them.

Or would I?

Hadn’t I done what I needed to do? Maybe now, I could go home. Desperately, I closed my eyes with the hope that when I opened them, I would be back down in that dusty little room and my uncle would be frantically searching for me.

But no.

I was still exactly where I had been twenty seconds ago. And I wasn’t sure where that was.

It looked like a small, cramped office.

There were more filing cabinets than space, it seemed. A tiny little desk was pressed up against the wall, and there was just enough room for a chair. I eased the door closed behind me and went over to it, dropping into a chair that squeaked so loud, I worried Glenn might hear.

Holding my breath, I waited what felt like a lifetime.

But it remained quiet.

Burying my face in my hand, I tried to figure some way out of this mess. How could I do my job and still stay out of Glenn’s path?

“But it’s not really your job,” I whispered. “It belongs to the other Miss Cruz.”

Still feeling desperate, I considered tracking her down and telling her that she could have the job back. I didn’t want to be here anymore.

I’d go back tomorrow, assuming I could figure out how to get back. Hell, I’d go back now if I could.

Glenn called my name again, his voice faint, but clearly, he was still looking for me. Moments passed and once more, his footsteps faded.

Now, I felt even more despondent.

I was such a mess.

I had known what I was getting into from the moment I had met him. I’d figured out why I was here, that I needed to help Florence, and I’d done everything I could to resist my attraction to him.

The ache in my chest didn’t care, but I couldn’t let that matter. I’d done what I needed to do—right?

The golden locked pulsed once, hotter than normal and I reached up, grabbing it.

I’d get through this. Sometime soon, I’d figure out how to go back to my own time.

Then it would be over.

Florence would be okay, and I’d be home.