Chapter 7
By Wednesday, I was feeling much better. I dressed, ready for work, grabbed my laptop and thermos of coffee and headed out, half expecting Sam to honk his horn and offer me a ride,- but I reached the bus stop without distraction. A deep sigh permeated from my very soul. Guilt nearly drowned me on my way to work, the thought of how, from his perspective, I must have seemed cruel and ungrateful. Hell, it seemed like it from my viewpoint too. What had I been thinking? Could I blame the fever? No, that wasn’t true. It was all my doing, me and my scaredy-cat ways, past ruining any chance of happiness in my future. I got off the bus and walked in through the museum entrance.
“Hello dear,” the receptionist called. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“We were all so worried, especially Sam. Bless him, I’ve never seen him panic so much over a woman.” She winked spiritually. A slight blush pinkened my cheeks.
“Jessy, I would like to show Mr Wallace the design I have in mind. I spent all night finishing it.”
She gave me a hard stare. “You should have been resting.”
“Yes, but my job means the word to me. Please, is he in?”
“Yes, yes, dear, go ahead. He’s in the blue room.”
I hurried ahead, desperate to get approvals for my ideas, but as I turned the handle the door swung open and I came face to face with Sam. I stared, stunned, my heart felt like it was beating again. The butterflies in my stomach raised their wings and just as I was about to offer a good morning he slipped past, no eye contact, no brush of skin, just a resigned slouch that had my brows furrowing in confusion as I watched him slink away into the shadows of the museum.
“Sir?” I looked to Mr Wallace.
“Come in, come in, sit down.” He waved me in, a sad but kind smile on his face.
“Sam’s acting so strange,” I comment freely as I prepare my laptop designs for his inspection.
“Yes, they’ve assigned him to night shifts until the new exhibit is complete.” He chewed his lip, his thick white moustache bobbing. “Can I ask you what happened, Frigga? Sam is usually such a cheerful man, so positive and since you fell sick he has become distant, illusive. He asked for night shifts, suggesting that it would make you feel more comfortable. Did something happen? I promise you if he’s hurt you, I will be on your side no matter how long he’s worked for me. I won’t allow bullying or… other things.”
“No, no, sir. Please don’t get the wrong idea. Sam has been a complete gentleman. I just might have been a little insensitive to our age difference when he…”
“Ahh. The guy has had a spark in his eyes since he met you. I’m guessing he asked you out? He doesn’t handle rejection well, never has, not since his last girlfriend of five years dumped him via a text message. Pretty cruel, if you ask me.”
“Uh, yeah. I'd never do that. Not that we are dating, cause we’re not.” A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of Sam morphing into my ex. “No, no, we’re just friends.”
“Hmm. We shall see. But for now, show me the plan, I've been waiting.”
“Yes sir, sorry about getting sick I…”
He put a hand up to stop me. “Don’t worry, Sam cleared it all. You're not in any trouble.” On one hand, his assurances made my mind clearer, my job feeling secure. But on the other, a deep and restless guilt spread like a stain upon my soul as I thought of how Sam must be feeling. No doubt he felt like his Norse god of the underworld right now, skulking around in the shadows far from the light of the rainbow bridge to Asgard. Sigh .