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Chapter 39

The Atlantic Ocean, 1912

“Do you think I should wear the blue tie or the red one?” Christian asked, holding each choice up to his neck in front of the full-length mirror.

“Hell, I don’t know. Wear them both,” Aaron replied.

“Someone’s a bit touchy tonight,” Christian said, turning to look at him.

“Someone takes forever to get dressed and then still can’t decide what he’s wearing.” Aaron dropped into a chair across the room, hopeful that Christian would get himself together before dinner. He knew he should’ve come at least fifteen minutes after Christian suggested so that he would actually be ready to go.

“Maybe the gray one,” Christian mumbled. “Where is the gray one?” He disappeared, and Aaron eyed the bottle of Scotch sitting on the counter, figuring he probably had time for at least one drink before his partner was ready to go.

A

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