Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
The next morning, I’m surprised to discover I arrive at work before Will.
“Come in,” the director calls.
With trepidation, I open the door. I’ve never been in the director’s office before.
He’s sitting at his round table to the side of his room, away from his desk, with Lily.
The director, Miguel Simonsson, is silver-haired, an elegant man with black-rimmed glasses and a suit to match the look, though the jacket is on the back of his chair.
“Please, sit down.” The director gestures at one of the two empty chairs at the table.
I slip inside, leaving the door open a crack for Will. And I sit, doing my best to keep composed despite freaking out inside. They’re both solemn.
At precisely 9:00 a.m., Will shows up, also in a suit, no tie, looking amazing in terms of wardrobe, but absolutely wrecked otherwise. And he’s wearing his glasses instead of his contacts. He looks bleary-eyed, glassy like when we were stranded with his migraine. I blink in alarm.
“Please, Will.” The director nods at the remaining empty chair.
“Thank you.” Will shuts the door, and he sits down too, not looking at me.
The usual urge to fidget comes. It’s all I can do to keep from sitting on my hands. Or staring at the side of Will’s head as I wish he’d look over.
The director looks from Will to me and back again. “I am very sorry to hear about the loss of the Vivienne Westwood exhibits. I understand that Lily, the Security team, and the technicians made an extensive search yesterday and into the evening to locate the missing collection.”
I gulp.
“Unfortunately, they weren’t successful. The lender is a big supporter of the museum, and this is a significant problem. I understand you both have made efforts to locate the collection. And that you both delayed in telling Lily what had happened.”
We’re deathly quiet.
I can’t even hear the sound of anyone breathing because we’re all holding our breath. The only sound is the ticking of the premium clock on the wall behind Miguel’s desk, its red hands carving out each second of time we spend in the hot seat.
“I’m very disappointed with the loss and in the delay about telling me what happened,” Lily tells us. “Time is of the essence when any exhibit is considered lost. It’s vital for our security procedures.”
There’s a long moment of silence. I give Will a sidelong glance, but he’s frozen in place.
“I’m very sorry,” I offer into the quiet. “We both are.”
“Yes,” Will agrees instantly. “Very.”
Pretending to have more courage than I’m feeling at the moment, I continue.
“We didn’t realize. We wanted to come to you with a solution rather than a problem.
We hoped it was only a momentary mix-up between the paperwork and the spreadsheet.
We didn’t intend to be deceitful. Far from it, I promise.
We knew how busy you were, Lily, and we wanted to take care of things for you. ”
Lily, for her part, looks weary.
I glance at Will as he removes his glasses enough to rub his eyes. He nods, looking positively green.
“We need to advise the lender of the loss today and follow up with our insurance providers. And of course, the show installation must continue. We are now behind schedule with yesterday’s extra work. However, I understand the deliveries proceeded without incident, thanks to your efforts, Dylan.”
I chew my lip.
“That’s enough for the moment.” Miguel looks at Lily and then at us. “Please, continue with your workday.”
Will and I both rise. I’m desperate to talk to him, to get out of the director’s office, to ask him how he’s feeling, aside from crushed like I am. He really looks unwell. All I want to do is take care of him.
“Will, please stay a moment,” Lily tells him.
For a moment, Will looks surprised, but he recovers quickly.
“Actually, I have something to say as well.” Will looks at the director and Lily.
For my part, I look intently at Will. He finally glances at me, looking hollow. He sits.
“Dylan, please keep on top of the deliveries this morning,” Lily tells me pointedly. It’s meant to be Will’s turn to do the deliveries, but obviously, he doesn’t look up for it.
With reluctance, I leave the director’s office, shutting the door after me, wishing it didn’t feel so final. I force myself to walk away, even though it feels like betrayal to leave Will behind. Though obviously, they noticed he looked rough too.
They’re only checking in on him. Then I’ll talk to him after and find out what he had to say.
I take a moment in the boardroom to compose myself, to finish my coffee when I quickly check the messages and the day’s schedule for both Will and me to come up to speed. We’ll make a plan.
Soon, I’m back to the loading bay with my clipboard, ready for action with two of the techs for the first delivery of the morning, which comes as scheduled, and I’m busy checking crates and filling out paperwork. The morning passes quickly, even though I feel entirely out of sorts.
All I can think of is how imposing the director’s office was, with its sleek black leather and chrome finishes and oak.
Or the look of quiet disappointment on Lily’s face as she gazed at us.
The way the clock sounded or the soft scent of Will’s cologne I could pick up, seated so close beside him.
And then the agony of being sent away and leaving Will behind.
By 11:00 a.m., there’s time for a tea break, and I go up to the gallery to find Will at last or see if he’s been sent out on any errands.
I don’t see him up there, so I make my way downstairs to peek into the tearoom, but there’s no Will.
However, I find Carine. Ever since the first day when I showed up more drowned rat than confidence-inspiring intern, she’s been nice to me.
And if anyone knows where Will is, it’ll be her, since nearly everyone comes and goes from the front door, except for people working out on the loading bay with the back door out to the lane.
“Hey.” I give her a weary smile. “Enough water in there for me too?”
“Of course.”
Carine makes up a pot of tea, and we wait for it to steep in the small tearoom, which is more like a galley kitchen than anything else. I hop up on the counter opposite to sit for a moment.
“How’s the installation going?” she tries, a little too carefully. Like she knows what’s up. She lowers her voice. “There’s a rumor going around that an expensive exhibit’s been lost?”
I groan. “It’s not exactly a rumor.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Oh?”
“It’s, um, kind of true?”
Carine looks too startled for words. “Oh.”
“Obviously an accident,” I tell her quickly. “I’m hoping we can still sort it out by some miracle. I can’t imagine where it’s gone. Everything comes in from the back door to the museum whenever Will and I have gone out together.”
Thinking back, as usual, we’d gone out that day using Will’s Land Rover.
There’s no chance the exhibit’s been lost somewhere else.
We would have unloaded everything into the loading bay, then taken it straight downstairs on a cart.
I’ll have another look around and check my laptop for more notes about that day.
I can’t imagine the exhibits have vanished into thin air.
Or believe that Will’s diabolical enough to actually steal or hide the collections to set me up for an angle into the permanent job. Neither one of us looks good here.
Unless Will makes a miraculous discovery at the eleventh hour, which leaves him looking golden when the collection turns up. Maybe that’s what he’s told them.
I feel like an asshole for even thinking like this. I’ve probably streamed too many true crime stories on art heists back in university.
“Shit.” I screw up my face.
“What’s wrong?” Carine asks.
“Oh, nothing. It’s a lot, you know?”
She makes sympathetic noises and pours tea into the two waiting mugs. “This’ll help,” she says with confidence. “Tea always does.”
If only I felt the same way Carine does about tea and its calming properties.
When I go back to the gallery a little while later, there’s no sign of Will. And later, after I text Will at lunchtime to find out how the last drop-offs are going, there’s no reply from him.
At the end of the day, I check in with Lily in her office before I leave for the day, having stayed till 7:00 p.m. I’ve had no response from Will all day, and I’ve been doing my best to keep super busy, which is easy to do, to keep from thinking about him.
“What time’s Will back from the drop-offs?” I ask her, after I’ve given the latest update on my end with all the other arrivals now in the gallery and staged for the install. “I was hoping to catch him.”
I stop short of saying to debrief, because that makes me think of Will in briefs, and that thought’s way, way too distracting for this moment.
Lily’s quiet for a long moment, considering me. It’s hard to read her expression. She’s partly backlit from the low evening sun behind her through the window, turning the city into an inky silhouette. “Will’s not coming back.”
I blink. And again, for good measure.
“What do you mean he’s not coming back?” I ask blankly. “Today, you mean?”
She clears her throat.
Foreboding grips me.
“The leadership team has decided to let him go.”
I suck in a deep, visceral breath. Or maybe I gasp. It’s like a fist has squeezed around my middle, and I stare at Lily as if everything’s gone upside down—because it has.
“Will’s… fired?”
She gives a small, tight nod, then proceeds to shuffle papers on her desk. “We’ll see you at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow to continue the installation,” she says crisply, clearly meaning this is not up for discussion. Lily looks down at her papers, unable to meet my gaze.
In shock, I leave the museum like a magnetic pole reversal has taken place. And now, everything’s off-kilter.