26. ~ Char ~
CHAPTER 26
~ Char ~
I was still fuming over Greg’s dismissive attitude and wondering if I could sic Estelle on him, or maybe one of her demon friends, if she had any. Possibly lure Igor the ogre away from veganism and toward Gregism?
How had I ever thought that man was cute and charming?
It didn’t help that the museum’s cafeteria milkshakes were substandard. It wasn’t even in the running for bumping Peter’s Drive-In off its pedestal. I hadn’t even hesitated to set the cup aside so I could do a quick cruise-by of the latest pottery fragment additions in the gift shop before waiting outside the Staff Only door for James, as instructed.
“We’re closing, Char,” Glenda told me as she walked past the open space that led to the cafeteria and staff area. She was already sliding into her coat as the cafeteria’s folding metal doors clanked shut behind me.
“Okay. Just a sec.” I eyed the door James had asked me to wait outside of and bent, placing my milkshake on the floor while I retied my shoe. I took another pull on my drink as I stood, my cheeks sucking in with the effort of getting the ice cream and strawberry up the too-thin straw and into my bloodstream. She was still waiting for me to leave.
I winced. “Sorry. James asked me to wait a second. He’s grabbing something for me.”
With a heavy sigh, Glenda turned, shaking her head as she left.
“Hey, we’re closing,” a male voice announced behind me and I jumped. Then a hand grabbed my elbow, pulling me backward into the room marked Staff Only. James.
His arms wrapped around me in the warm, dimly lit hallway. His lips landed on my neck and I swivelled in his embrace to face him. He rewarded me with a lingering kiss that sent rockets off behind my eyelids.
“Come on.” He took my hand, pulling me down the corridor, passing several unmarked doors. I’d never been in here, even while working on inventory.
“As good as Peter’s?” he asked, glancing at my milkshake. He knew Peter’s Drive-In milkshakes were my love language.
I made a face, and he chuckled, then gave a farcical grimace, releasing my hand so he could punch a fist into his palm. “Who needs to die for this subpar milkshake recipe?”
I laughed, angling the straw in his direction. He took a pull. “Yeah, not as good. And not just because it’s strawberry.” He stuck out his tongue in disgust.
He pulled me along again. “Come hang out with me.”
“Don’t you have to kick everyone out of the museum?” The glass doors had been opening and closing moments ago, the last few stragglers leaving—like I should be.
“Oscar went home sick, and I need an extra pair of eyes on the monitors.”
Despite my words, my feet were already moving further into the pleasantly dim and cozy cave of the staff area.
“Richard will make a stink,” I warned.
“I can handle Richard.”
“You sure? He looked cranky.”
“I’m planning on quitting soon, anyway.”
“You are? Why? What are you going to do?”
“I thought this job would be more exciting.”
“You mean pulling kids off fake mummies isn’t exciting?”
He rubbed at the side of his face. “Not really. I’ve been learning Spanish when I’m here at night. I was going to go to Buenos Aires for a few months.”
“Really? What changed your mind? All the muggings?” Tamara’s mom had given us a run down when Tamara and I had been talking about a trip to South America a couple of years back. Then again, maybe the city was all cleaned up, or Mrs. Madden had misled us about the dangers. Either were possible.
Although, you’d have to be kinda dumb to try and mug James. His shoulders were powerful, and his flat stomach had the strength to back it up. Add in his beefy quads and you knew the guy would come out on top. Plus, he had this don’t-mess-with-me vibe when someone overstepped.
Sexy, sexy, sexy.
“I decided to go to Corsica instead.”
“Really? Why?”
“I found a great deal.” He cleared his throat as though embarrassed. “I go next week.”
Next week. The suddenness of his trip hit me. We were just getting started, and he was leaving?
“How long?” My voice sounded odd.
“Less than a week.”
I nodded, grateful for the shortness of his trip.
At the same time, I also appreciated the breathing room it would give us. We’d been moving fast and it was scaring me a little. Around him I could lose my grip on reality and almost believe in everlasting love.
I looked at him anew. Who knew James had this sort of spontaneity in him? It was as sexy as his uniform.
I gasped, realizing what was on the beautiful French island of Corsica. “Are you going to the excavation site of the ancient Roman tile workshop?”
“The what?”
“It’s nineteen-hundred years old.”
“Oh. I’ll have to check it out.”
“Take lots of pictures for me.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Are you still quitting, then? Since you’re not going away for months?”
“I got the week off, so I’ll quit some other time.”
“What job do you want—if not this one?”
“Not sure yet. But something fun. Still thinking about it.”
He let us into the security room, and I shivered in delight. This was like being allowed down secret rooms at MI6. And the security office lived up to my expectations. There were a few rolling chairs and tons of monitors streaming images from around the museum. Most frames were empty, but the ones by the gift shop and front doors had activity.
“I’m not allowed in here.” I set down my milkshake and perched in a chair, fascinated by all I could see. It was fabulous. I sucked it all up before someone told me I was breaking some sort of privacy law due to not having the proper clearance to spy on people.
James sat in the chair beside me, pointing to one of the screens in front of me. “You watch the gift shop while I watch a few other key areas to make sure people don’t try to stay in here overnight.”
I gasped in glee, hands coming together. “People do that?” Where would they hide? There were so many locked doors. Would they climb over a rope and crouch behind a large display? The mummies were too narrow to hide behind. Maybe the wooly mammoth? There were so few good places to hide! How would they pull it off?
James was the best for letting me in here with him. This was already the funnest part of my week, second to James’s kisses, of course.
He gave me a look. “You’re plotting how you’d get away with it, aren’t you?”
I felt my face heat, and I crossed my arms. “No.” I relented. “Okay, maybe just a little.”
“If you’re nice, I’ll tell you how I’d do it.”
I grinned at him, loving the fact that he had it all figured out.
If he ever proposed that as a first date, I’d marry him on the spot—my lacking wifey persona be damned.
James flicked a few switches, his eyes tracking across images with a practiced efficiency.
The camera feed from the front lobby zoomed out, showing more of the room as James worked buttons. It had been zoomed in where I’d been standing just minutes ago, waiting for him. A patter of tiny bootied feet of happiness stormed through my stomach.
My voice lifted as I asked, “Were you spying on me?”
His cheeks pinked ever so slightly and his mouth made a firm line. “No. I was waiting for you.”
“Hm.”
“And so you know, I’m trained to watch for unusual behaviour.”
“Unusual?”
“Yup. Unusual.” He smirked, then moved my abandoned milkshake where it was dribbling condensation over the black plastic console. “Watch your screens. Especially that lady touching everything. Shoplifters do that.”
“What lady?” I leaned forward, studying the screens in front of me before spotting her. “Oh.” I leaned back, no longer concerned. “Those are just repros.”
“In the gift shop? No. Those are all real.”
“I don’t know who’s been telling you that, but they’re reproductions.”
“All of them?” He looked at me as though I’d been the one who’d purposefully scammed him.
“No, not quite. Just the best ones.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah, I hope a collector doesn’t find out you’re ripping people off. They’ll be miffed.”
James nodded, brow furrowed. I could tell it bothered him that pieces were being sold as the real deal when they weren’t.
“But that one I showed you?” He turned from his monitors for a moment. “You said that wasn’t a fake?”
“It was a genuine artifact. It’s gone now though. I didn’t see it in the case.”
He nodded, seemingly relieved.
“You know, there’s a lot of Grecian pottery floating around online right now. I’ve bought a few pieces, and they’re much cheaper than in the gift shop. They’ve been real, too. Some of the descriptions said they were reproductions, but they weren’t. Someone out there is doing a bad job of assessing pieces. Which is weird since it’s not that difficult to figure out what’s real and what isn’t.”
“It’s not?”
“I won’t bore you with the details of it, but yeah. Once you know what to look for and spend some time looking at pieces…” I shrugged, being careful not to bore him.
“Know what’s more fun than talking about pottery?” he asked, flicking through the screens, one by one. They were all empty now. Even Richard was leaving.
“Letting me touch the stuff in the display cases?”
“Even better.” James scooted his chair in my direction. Then, with a tug, he hauled my chair to his. He leaned over and kissed me, sending my heart rate into overdrive and had me forgetting all about pottery.