Chapter 6 #2
Aida decided to use Trista’s tactic and not respond. Instead, she held his gaze until he finally threw his hands in the air
and backed up.
“Fine. Fine. You’re lucky I like you. And that you are doing work MODA needs done.
I’ll let the transgression slide.” He blew a kiss in the air toward them.
“Ta-ta, Trista dear. I look forward to your next report. And you,” he said, pointing at Aida, “don’t forget to record your amusement about Goethe’s two left feet. ”
Mo gave them a little wave, then strolled out of the room.
When she saw him turn the corner toward the elevator, Aida sat down at the table with Trista. “Are you all right?”
Trista looked at her. The emotionless stare had returned.
“I’m fine, Miss Reale. I appreciate you standing up for me, but I assure you, it was unnecessary. Mo is mostly harmless.”
She seemed to stumble on the word mostly.
“Are you sure, Trista? He seemed like he could turn dangerous pretty quickly.”
Trista’s eyes grew wide. “No, I assure you, he is nothing to worry about.”
Aida was a little skeptical, but hearing the assurance in the aide’s voice calmed her nerves a bit.
“What is Mo’s role at MODA? Besides harassing his employees?”
Trista shrugged. “I don’t really know. It’s not my place to ask. He checks in on our work from time to time.”
Aida thought that odd. Well, she certainly would have no problem asking the next time she saw him.
“Is he always like that?”
Trista’s eyes told her that he was. “He can be very sharp.”
“Sharp?” Aida had to laugh. “Bitter and caustic would be more apt terms.”
“That’s what I said,” Trista responded. “Sharp.” She looked at her watch. “He wasted a fair amount of your time.”
Aida caught the hint. But on her way back into the main museum rooms, she paused. “Does Mo have a last name?”
“No. He’s just Mo.”
“Of course.” She let the library door shut behind her. Like Fran and Disa. It rankled Aida to have such strict formality on so much of what she did and yet she didn’t even know the last names of the people she reported to.
Much to her relief, Mo didn’t return during Aida’s time at the museum. She spent hours engaging with the curator, delving
into every aspect of the artwork, the extensive book collection, and even the curator’s personal impressions. They discussed
his favorite pieces, the reasons behind his preferences, the art that captivated the museumgoers, and any noteworthy reactions
to the exhibits. On her final day, Friday, when the museum opened its doors to the public, Aida planned to observe the guests
and interview them about their favorite aspects of the museum.
After the second day, Trista stepped back, leaving Aida to finish the research on her own. That was always the plan, she said,
to make sure Aida had everything she needed to be productive. Trista explained that she would occasionally accompany her on
location, but there was no real reason for her to spend hours waiting around for Aida to finish her work.
Lost in the sanctuary of the library, Aida was particularly drawn to Goethe’s deep appreciation for ancient Greek culture.
His journey to Italy was fueled by a desire to grasp Hellenism, and he intriguingly merged his reverence for both ancient
Greece and Rome. During his second Roman sojourn in 1788, Goethe set aside many of his Christian beliefs to explore Greek
morality and religion. As a historian who had always been captivated by Greek and Roman myths, Aida found this aspect of Goethe’s
life intensely fascinating. She was especially interested in the myth of Faust that Goethe had made so popular, and why people
reveled in the downfall of Mephistopheles.
By Thursday, Aida was confident enough that MODA wasn’t monitoring her, so she powered down her MODA equipment on her walk home and tried calling Yumi on her personal device.
Aida’s conversations with both her fiancé and best friend were constrained to superficial topics due to the restrictions on using the MODA phone at the palazzo.
They’d discussed the wedding plans, Yumi’s house renovations, regional news, and the general sights Aida had encountered in Italy, avoiding any mention of their jobs.
Trista’s caution after Aida’s meeting with Felix had heightened her wariness, making her doubt whether she was ever truly alone.
Yumi’s role in software security naturally limited what she could share about her work, mirroring Aida’s own reticence.
Still, it left a strange void between them, this unsaid part of Aida’s life, which she desperately wished she could share with both Yumi and especially Graham.
“I think I’m alone now . . .” Aida said in a singsong voice when Yumi picked up the call.
“For reals?”
Aida laughed. “For reals.”
“Okay, I have a solution to our 404 error.” Yumi launched into an explanation. “I should have had you do this before you left,
but how could we know they would be so authoritarian about your life? You probably can’t use it at the palazzo, but you should
download Signal on your personal phone. It will encrypt all our conversations—voice, video, or text.”
“Really? You sure it’s safe?”
“Hell, that whistleblower Snowden uses it. We’re good.”
“It feels so strange to sneak around just to have a conversation,” Aida said.
“But do you love the job?”
Aida had to admit that aside from missing her loved ones, even with the secrecy and the strangeness of MODA, the work was
fascinating, and she was enjoying being in Rome.
“Well then, it’s worth it. We can play Secret Agent Man on the side.
Find me on Signal when you’re out and about.
You should be able to sneak a text or voice message to me from a bathroom at some point.
It will be like a game. Where will Aida text me from next?
Ha! Just be careful not to turn your work phone off for too long, and we should still have our regular calls when you’re home .
. . We don’t want them to get suspicious, after all. ”
They talked for a while and Aida filled her in on Mo’s arrival at the museum.
“Wow, sounds like a character out of a novel,” Yumi said when Aida had finished. “Just my type.” Yumi laughed before shifting
the conversation to the wedding. “So, about the bridesmaids . . . Erin’s been ghosting me all week. I’ve tried calling, texting,
everything. We need to finalize the dress orders, and she’s not responding. It’s worrying and, honestly, really frustrating.”
Aida frowned. “That’s not like Erin. Is she okay?”
“She just won’t respond to calls, emails, or texts. I’ve been trying for days to reach her,” Yumi said. “But she’s been posting
on Instagram like everything is hunky-dory.”
“That’s strange,” Aida agreed. “I’ll send her a text. Maybe she’ll respond to me.”
Yumi sighed, her frustration palpable. “Thanks. It’s stressing me out. We’re running out of time.”
Before Aida could respond, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. She glanced at the screen. It was Graham.
“One second, Yumi. It’s Graham.”
Yumi chuckled softly. “Go talk to your man. We can finish up later.”
“Thanks,” Aida said, feeling a little bad for cutting Yumi off but knowing she’d understand. “I’ll text you later about Erin.”
“Talk soon,” Yumi said before Aida switched the call.
She took a breath and answered, seeing Graham’s smiling face appear on the screen. “Hey.”
“Morning from Boston,” Graham replied, his voice warm and familiar. “How’s your day going?”
She smiled, already feeling lighter. “Good. Oh, I miss you. How’s everything back home?”
“I miss you too. Everything’s great, just busy with work. The house feels empty without you though.”
“I’m glad you’re keeping busy,” Aida said. “Hey, Yumi mentioned Erin’s been out of touch lately and hasn’t responded to messages about the bridesmaid dresses. I know you’ve been talking with her. Do you know if anything’s going on?”
Graham’s expression shifted slightly, but he quickly shook his head. “That’s odd. Erin’s been helping me a lot with the invitation
designs. Maybe she’s just caught up in something else? I’m sure she’ll get back to Yumi soon.”
“Could you give her a nudge if you talk to her? Just to let her know Yumi’s trying to reach her,” Aida asked, reassured by
his response.
“Of course. Anything to help keep things on track. Speaking of which, when do we get to do the cake tasting? I’m actually
looking forward to that.”
Aida laughed. “I’ll have Yumi call you to set up a time that works. We found the perfect baker.”
“Great. I can’t wait. And don’t worry about Erin; I’ll see what’s going on.”
“I knew I could count on you,” she said, relieved. “I miss you so much.”
“I miss you too. Can’t wait to have you back,” he replied. “Talk soon?”
“Absolutely,” Aida said, soaking in the familiar warmth of his words. After blowing him a kiss, she ended the call. Then she
downloaded the Signal app and sent Yumi a GIF of Lucille Ball badly pouring champagne. Aida hated GIFs. They drove her mad
with their endless looping, but Yumi loved them, and Aida got a good chuckle when her friend texted back a dozen exclamation
points of surprise.
Afterward, Aida sent Erin a text, but by the time she reached the MODA palazzo, there was still no response, so she turned
off her phone and slipped it into the bottom of her bag. Erin had always been quick to respond, especially when it came to
wedding plans.
So why was she ignoring them now?