Paris, July 1906

It started with a wedding.

It had only taken twelve years, but Lillian Holden and James Westcliff were finally husband and wife. Not an ideal timeline, but an ideal result. Anna Reynolds's brother had always been best friends with the groom, so naturally, she had been invited to the affair. Standing on the periphery of the room, Anna was chatting pleasantly with her friends Giselle and Nora, identical twin sisters of the bride.

The two were commenting on the latest developments in Evanna's Secret, the craze that had caught hold of Paris for the past few months. Only this very morning, had the author been revealed to be none other than Anna's new sister-in-law, Julienne Reynolds. Her brother was practically prancing around his wife with the arrogance of ten men. It was a revolting display of affection.

Simon was an insufferable pain in the behind, no matter which way you sliced it. He was bull headed, opinionated, competitive and cocky. Half the time Anna wanted to throttle him. She adored her brother. He was fiercely loyal, caring and more intelligent than most of the men in Paris, working closely with many industrial revolutionists. The new motor cars fascinated him, even though they were still fairly new.

He'd finally given up his absurd skirt chasing ways and had settled down with Julienne Destler, the daughter of a very successful architect. They were newly expecting a child. Anna was terrified to imagine her brother as somebody's father, but Julienne seemed to have him in hand.

"Well, I can never tell with Beau." Giselle was going on about her current suitor of choice. "I keep thinking he's going to offer for my hand and he doesn't." Anna frowned. The conversation had taken a turn that she didn't want to participate in. Once the Holden twins began to chat about love and boys, there was no turning it around.

"You know what you must do, Giselle…make him jealous. Make him think he could lose you. It will make him come around immediately." Nora replied wisely. "Men always want what they can't have."

Anna stared at her friends blankly. She had never been courted seriously. She had been called on a few times since she'd come out into society, but never more than once. She always found the young men somewhat lacking. Anna knew she was naïve. She knew that her standards were impossibly high. She not only wanted someone who was sweet and good, but also who was smart and attractive. She had yet to meet a man who fit all of her criteria.

She realized, starting, that both twins were staring at her with expectant expressions.

"Don't you think?" Nora urged, obviously wanting an opinion on her views. Anna sighed in defeat.

"I'm not sure I'm the best authority on this matter, Nora." She replied, trying her best to sound regretful. "I don't have really any experience."

"Well, that's your own fault." Her friend insisted, giving her a stare. "You're too picky."

"Perhaps." Anna said, feeling the corners of her mouth turn upward. "You know, I think I'm going to go find something sweet to eat. I need some sugar." She quietly retreated, moving through the crowded ballroom to the dessert table. The sight of the beautifully piled éclairs made her heart melt. It was sad when a woman preferred sweets to the company of others.

"Watch out, Miss!" A male voice called out to her just as she had lifted the dessert to her lips. Looking up, Anna had just caught a glimpse of someone flying toward her before she tumbled backward and fell to the floor beneath her attacker. When she opened her eyes again, she was staring into a pair of very light silver gray eyes.

"Are you all right?" The man asked her worriedly, moving off of her to check her for bruises. Anna sat up, unable to speak. She could only stare at the unfamiliar person in front of her. "I'm so sorry, Miss, but the dessert cart went flying when one of the servants slipped on a bit of champagne that had been spilled…it was going to knock you over."

"So you decided to knock me over first?" She replied with a twist of a smirk. The man stared at her as if he couldn't believe what she'd just said for a moment, before bursting into laughter. Anna couldn't help herself; she joined in, laughing so hard her sides hurt. He rose first, holding out a hand to help her to her feet.

"Colin Moreau." He introduced himself. She shook his hand firmly, noting the look of surprise in his eyes.

"Anna Reynolds." She told him, while people moved feverishly around them, trying to clean up the mess created by the runaway cart.

"Simon's sister, right?" Colin said, letting go of her hand. She nodded.

"Yes, and you're Lillian's cousin, aren't you?"

"One of them, yes." He answered wryly. "Well, sorry for knocking you over in the middle of my cousin's wedding. Oh, damn." He cursed, pointing down at her skirt. "I've stained it." Anna followed his eyes to where the éclair she had been holding had fallen from her hand and had left a messy chocolate trail down the fluffy blue tiers of her favorite dress. He pulled from his pocket a card and placed it into her hand. "Please send the bill to me." Anna chuckled, staring down at his card.

"That's unnecessary. Nothing a little soap won't fix." She assured him. A slow, wide smile spread over his face, revealed a row of beautiful white teeth. Anna's eyes widened slightly at the sight, feeling something develop in the pit of her stomach, something she did not recognize.

"Well, just the same, I do apologize." He insisted, taking her gloved hand and pressing a polite kiss to it. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Reynolds."

"Thank you, Monsieur." She managed.

As she watched him walk away, Anna had to suppress the urge to follow him, wanting to pepper him with questions about himself. She had the worst curiosity to know about him – his middle name, his favorite color, whether he was a morning person or a late riser. Did he like his coffee black or with cream and sugar? Or did he prefer tea?

"Goodness, Anna!" Lillian cried, coming to her and checking her over. "Your dress!"

"I know." She sighed, shrugging. Her eyes flitted over to the group of men that Colin Moreau had returned to momentarily, before she smiled up at Lillian. "It's nothing to worry over."

Later that evening, when Anna had settled into her nightclothes and was sitting up in her bed, she found herself staring at the card that Colin Moreau had given her.

Colin A. Moreau

Investor

15A Curzon St.

Mayfair, London

His middle initial was 'A.' She wondered what it stood for and then, wondered why she cared. It wasn't as if she was ever going to speak to him again. He lived in London. She lived in Paris. His father was an aristocrat of some sort, while her father, though a wealthy man, was just a businessman. Not to mention, he probably thought she was an infant. Her birthday was in three months, but he was at least ten years older than she was to start with.

What was she thinking?

Anna Christine Reynolds would never know what had possessed her to do what she did next. She pulled out a piece of parchment and an ink pen and sat at her desk, using the dim light from her lamp to write the letter that would change her life.

Dear Colin,

You don't know who I am, and it's probably better that way. We aren't well acquainted, you see, and I'm sure I will regret this in the morning. My mother says I am far too spontaneous for my own good. I suppose I am sometimes, but what fun would life be if we all did the same thing every day? It's how I earned the nickname Flash from my father as a girl. He always said that I made decisions in a flash and so, it stuck.

You probably think I'm some depraved lunatic with nothing better to occupy her time, and you're probably right. I'm questioning my own sanity. We've barely ever had a conversation, and I find myself wondering what your middle name is. When is your birthday? Mine is in October. I always hated that, having such a late birthday because I was always the youngest of my friends. Always the youngest. I have three older siblings, you see, so I've never really been taken seriously. Thus, this insane need to write to a perfect stranger.

My favorite color is green, which is odd for a girl my sister tells me. I can't imagine why. Green is such a beautiful color. It represents the very basic things: life, nature, fertility. And really, where would we be without those?

Well, I've embarrassed myself enough for one letter. Do try not to judge me too harshly.

Take care.

Flash.

Anna wrote out the envelope and sealed it before she thought better of it and set it aside so that she could decided what to do with it the following day. If she kept her courage, she would run it to the post box in the morning. If not, she would burn it and laugh at herself. No harm done, right?

Wrong.

Anna left on an errand in the morning when her sister, Grace, dropped in and asked her to come help her pick out an anniversary gift for her husband, Christian. She had decided it would be better to get rid of the fool note she had written to Colin Moreau before bed last night, and intended to do just that when she returned home. Grace and Anna had returned home for lunch, after they had found a gift for Chris. Their mother had the food ready, beaming at the girls when they came inside, flushed and still chatting.

"I made your favorite, Annie love." Marguerite Reynolds informed her daughter. "Chicken and dumplings." Anna gave her mother a smile, kissing her cheek affectionately.

"You're wonderful." She told her, sincerely. Meg beamed at her two daughters, ushering them in to sit down. Both girls helped themselves excitedly to their mother's remarkable cooking. Though they had a cook, Meg frequently made the family meals herself. "Oh Anna, I mailed your letter for you." Anna froze with the fork in front of her, looking at her mother.

"Which letter?" She asked cautiously, swallowing the lump of panic in her throat.

"The one you left on your desk." Meg replied, sliding into her seat and dishing her own food. Anna's eyes widened, staring at her mother in choked disbelief.

"I…hadn't intended to send it." She admitted, glancing sideways at Grace, who was staring at her in fascination.

"Who was it for?" Her sister inquired mildly, eating a generous spoonful.

"No one…it doesn't matter. It's just that there were some errors I'd intended to fix." Anna somehow managed to smile reassuringly at their mother, who looked worried. "No problem!" She forced herself to eat the remainder of her lunch, despite the pool of dread that had spread through her body in waves. The only comfort she felt was due to the fact that she had used her private post office box as a return address and therefore, he could not trace the ridiculous note back to her. Colin would simply receive the enigmatic, idiotic letter and perhaps have a laugh at it. Then, he would forget it, and they could all go back to living normally. Anna felt marginally better at the thought, deciding not to worry on it any longer.

Naturally, it was an enormous surprise when she received a response two weeks later.

And...we're off!

Enjoy. I think I'm going to be quite proud of this one.