Chapter 7 Dallas
SEVEN
DALLAS
“Dallas, you have—oh, sorry to interrupt.”
I glanced up, having been immersed in a book about the conservation history of aging manuscripts, to find my coworker Pete standing at my doorway.
“No problem, what can I do for you?”
Pete cleared his throat. “There’s a visitor here for you.”
A strange lightness filled my chest and my stomach flipped. “Thanks, Pete. Do you mind bringing them back here?”
“Sure thing.” As a junior intern, Pete was eager to be helpful, even when he was tasked with doing things that weren’t directly related to conservation or curation.
“Be right back.” He hurried away and I looked around my office, abruptly nervous, checking for anything that looked out of place or would make me self-conscious while Ace was visiting.
Calm down, I told myself. They’re just returning your sweater. It’s not a date. There’s no need to be nervous. A second later, I realized what I’d just told myself. A date. Where did that come from? Before I had a chance to further analyze my thoughts, I heard footsteps approaching.
“Here we go,” Pete’s voice said from outside my office, in the hallway.
A moment later, there was a soft knock on the door and Ace stepped in, my sweater draped over their arm, followed by Pete. I stood, giving Ace a small smile.
“Hi there,” they said, returning my smile with a bright one of their own.
“Come on in.” I gestured to one of the chairs in front of my desk and gave Pete a nod before he hurried away.
Ace took a seat before looking around and then returning their gaze to meet mine. “Thanks again for the loan.”
“It’s the least I could do, considering.”
A soft chuckle escaped them and they shook their head. “I told you, it wasn't your fault. But I appreciate it anyway.”
“We’ll call it nobody’s fault then.”
We sat in silence for a few seconds before Ace spoke again. “Are you—I mean, can I take you to lunch? As a thank-you?”
I checked the time. It was nearly noon, and I considered the offer. I could say no. I could wave away the offer and let Ace leave, knowing I’d probably never see them again. Was that what I wanted? Somehow, no, it wasn’t. “That would be nice. Thank you.”
Their smile grew bigger. “Awesome. I know this great place, a little hole in the wall right around the corner. You’re going to love it.”
About fifteen minutes later, we were walking into what was indeed a little hole in the wall, a tiny sandwich shop in the basement of a three-story building that held a hair salon on the first floor and apartments on the second and third.
“I’ve never even seen this place before,” I said as I followed Ace inside.
“You’re going to love it,” they repeated, leading me to a booth near the back of the room. Once we were seated, I opened the menu, but Ace put their hand on it and stopped me. “Let me order for you.”
I frowned. “What?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Should I?”
They laughed, a bright sound that made the back of my neck heat. “You should.”
I wasn’t adventurous. I liked predictable things. The idea of letting Ace order for me gave me nerves of a whole different kind.
“Come on,” they said. Before I could respond, Ace put their hand on mine. “Trust me.” Their tone was soft but insistent.
My body heated at the touch. I swallowed hard, my heart rate speeding up, and gave them a small nod. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”
A server, a person with a shaved head and a chain that crossed the bridge of their nose, connecting two nostril piercings, stopped by a few minutes later and greeted Ace by name. “Hi, Ace. Back again? What can I get you two?”
They laughed again, soft and light, and gave the server a wide grin. “Hi, Paloma. Let’s go with a couple of sinkers.”
“You bet.”
With that, Paloma hurried away and I was left sitting with Ace, just the two of us at our quiet booth in the back of the crowded restaurant.
“A sinker?” I asked when the server was gone.
Ace gave me a sly smile. “Trust me.”
We were both quiet for a moment before I cleared my throat. “How did your meeting go?”
“Meeting?” They frowned for a moment. “Oh, with the dean? That meeting? It was really good. I proposed a new class for next semester and I’m pretty sure it’s going to get approved.”
“What’s the class?”
That was all it took to get Ace talking.
They told me all about their research into gender roles and identities in the Viking Age.
It was fascinating, and coincided with some of my research on oral history.
I’d been working on a special exhibit for the museum and had just started my work on the Viking Age the week before the conference.
I found myself leaning forward, listening intently, nodding along and interjecting whenever I had something relevant to say.
Eventually, our food came, Paloma delivering two prime rib sandwiches stuffed with meat and with a side of au jus to dip them in. It wasn't something I would’ve ordered for myself, but as I took the first bite, I let out a soft groan. It was good.
“Okay,” I said once I’d chewed and swallowed. “You were right.”
“Told you so.”
As we ate, we continued to chat. “How did you get into museum curation?” Ace asked.
“It’s not an interesting story.”
They shrugged. “Let me be the judge of that.”
“It’s probably a very similar path to yours.
I got a degree in history and decided I liked it enough to pursue a master’s degree.
In the interim, I managed to score an internship here, changed my postgraduate major to museum studies, and the rest is history.
Once I graduated, they hired me full time here. I’ve never looked back.”
“You’re right,” they said. “Not that different at all.” A beat passed. “Did you know I was arrested for stealing a painting at a museum once?”
I furrowed my brow. “Sorry—you were what?”
“It’s weird, though, right? I asked the guard if I could take a picture and he said yes!”
It took me a few seconds to process what they’d said, and when it hit me, I chuckled softly and shook my head. “Okay, you got me.”
They shrugged. “That wasn’t good enough. I’ll get you to laugh eventually. Don’t you worry.”
Warmth spread through me at the thought that this person actually wanted to amuse me, not just write me off as too serious. Our meal was coming to a close, but I didn’t want this lunch to end. I gave them a small smile and raised my eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”