Chapter 23 #3
“Ways you don’t get to worry your pretty little head about.” At this, he did look up, and the stare he gave her was serious. If she hadn’t been under Sophie’s aegis, Aida thought she might have experienced true panic. There was danger in his eyes.
“Jeesh, I’m sorry for asking.” Aida took a seat nearby and picked up one of the puzzle pieces, willing herself to act normal.
“We can barely leave the palazzo without being stopped by the Carabinieri asking for a permission slip and you casually waltz
in. It was a reasonable question.”
“I’m not reasonable.”
“Clearly.” He didn’t respond. She attempted to lock several different pieces together while they sat in silence. The quiet
stretched out, punctuated only by the click of Aida’s nails on the table as she searched for the right fit and Mo shuffling
his feet as he placed his pieces. After it reached the uncomfortable stage, Aida resolved that she wouldn’t be the one to
break the silence.
Finally, after another ten minutes of noiseless puzzling, Mo stood and came around the table to where she sat. He pulled up
a chair alarmingly close to her and sat down. “Here.” He took the puzzle pieces she had been working with, deftly found the
right companions, and slid them into place.
“What a useful skill to have,” she said, marveling.
Mo put his hand on the back of her chair. “I have many useful skills.”
“You’re sitting awfully close. Are you trying to give me coronavirus?”
“I haven’t been around anyone, and I’ve been masked,” he said mildly. Aida didn’t believe him about the mask, but she was
sure he was immune to the virus.
“Then are you trying to seduce me?” she asked, grateful for the aegis miraculously keeping her heart calm.
“Hardly,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to the puzzle, picking up a piece. “What other motive might you have for invading
my space?”
Suddenly, his hands were upon her, twisting her toward him, his fingers gripping her shoulders. His face drew close to hers.
“Maybe I just want to scare the shit out of you,” he growled.
If not for the aegis, and if she didn’t know he couldn’t harm her, she honestly would have been scared shitless. No one had
ever held her in such a way.
“You don’t scare me,” she said. “And you are my employer. What are you doing?”
He abruptly dropped his hands, and to her surprise, he actually looked sheepish. “True,” he said, turning back to the puzzle.
He didn’t move away.
Aida returned to the puzzle, trying to understand what was happening. What did Mo know? If he knew they had found Pandora’s
key, wouldn’t he have done something more drastic—fired her? Arranged for another mortal to harm her directly? She thought
back to the time she saw him alone in London. His behavior then had been strange, and that was before she had known about
Pandora.
“I wanted to see what you would do,” he finally said. “You are unusual, Aida. Unexpected.”
“I’m not sure if that’s good or bad,” she said, setting a puzzle piece in place.
He chuckled. “Neither am I.”
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“I like to periodically check in on Lady Ozie’s interests.”
“Will I ever meet her?” Aida had no desire to meet the goddess of misery, but it seemed like a reasonable question, to meet
the woman who was bankrolling her entire livelihood.
“Trust me, you don’t want to be in her sights. Just keep doing what you are doing.”
This time, it was Aida’s turn to laugh, a rueful one. “A whole lot of nothing? This pandemic doesn’t give me much to do. And
I would really love to be able to find a bit of happiness right now.”
But not if it will entirely disappear.
“Are there places in Rome you want to visit? Maybe we can make happiness happen for you.” His face had softened, and he was looking at her with what she thought might be some sort of actual affection. It struck her that he probably wasn’t someone who had ever had a real friend in his life.
“There are so many,” she said, suddenly at a loss. What places should she name? There was a consequence to her choice. If
she chose the Pantheon, she was sure another earthquake would make it fall. If she chose one of the museums, the doors might
close, or art might be stolen.
“What book are you working on now?”
“I just finished The Botanist’s Muse, but my agent wants to wait till the pandemic cools a bit—or until we figure out what the new normal looks like—before she
starts looking for a home for it. Now I’m starting on a novel about a Baroque-era steward that was orphaned as a child. He
traveled all over Italy and grew to such prominence that the Pope gave him knighthood.”
“Then you should go to Palazzo Barberini. I’ll work with Trista to make it happen.”
A shiver ran up Aida’s spine. The steward she was writing about had spent some time working at Palazzo Barberini early in
his career. Visiting it would help her research, but then it would disappear. What would happen to what she was writing if
that was the case?
“That would be wonderful,” she managed. “But I’m sure the museum is closed. I wouldn’t want to put anyone at risk to open
it just for me.”
“There will be no risk, I assure you.” He stood but did not step back from the table. He gazed down at the disarray of pieces
before him. “You’re quite the enigma, Aida. A woman with secrets.”
Aida did not look up. She wasn’t sure she could maintain her composure even with the aegis. Terror filled her at the idea
that he might know she had figured MODA out. After a brief pause, she finally spoke. “Every woman has secrets. You should
know that by now.”
He huffed. “Touché. But you jest, and I do not.”
“Ah. I see how this is. You can tease me, but I cannot tease you? Fine. What do you want to know?”
Mo paused, as though weighing his next words carefully. He leaned back slightly, hands stilling, and for a moment, Aida thought
she saw something unfamiliar in his eyes—not the usual sharpness or sarcasm, but curiosity.
“What is it like, spending time with someone without an angle?” he asked.
Aida glanced up, surprised. “Are you saying you usually have an angle?”
His lips quirked into a smirk. “Let’s just say I’m not used to idle company.”
“And I’m idle company?”
He shrugged, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “What other sort of company is there in the middle of a pandemic?”
Aida sighed. “I wish you weren’t right.”
Mo tapped a puzzle piece on the table, turning it in his fingers. “Do you find the company of other people enjoyable? When
there’s no . . . expectation. Just . . . talking?”
“Well, yes. Don’t you?”
He chuckled, but it was soft, almost self-conscious. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just . . . not very good at this.”
“This?”
He met her eyes, and for a second, the air between them felt different—not charged with tension, but something closer to vulnerability.
“This. Talking. Being . . . friendly.”
Aida picked up another piece and turned it over in her hand.
“I get the sense that maybe you don’t have many friends.” Aida knew it was bold, but being bold had always been the best tactic
with him.
“I have always found friends to be overrated. Few conversations ever take place where someone doesn’t need something from
the other person.”
“That’s true. But that’s not always a bad thing. Conversations with my friends always have two underlying needs: curiosity and respect.”
Mo tilted his head. “And what is it you’re curious about?”
“In general? Life, people, how things work. But with you . . . ?” She glanced up, meeting his gaze. “I’m curious why you’re
here.”
His brow furrowed, but he didn’t look away. “I already told you. I’m checking in on Lady Ozie’s interests.”
“Yes, but why are you really here? This isn’t exactly a check-in sort of visit.” She searched the puzzle, looking for the right spot for the piece in her hand. “You’re not the type to sit
around for hours doing jigsaw puzzles with someone just because of a job.”
“Maybe I’m the curious one. Or perhaps I’m trying to see what it’s like to have a conversation where I don’t need something
from the other person.”
She smiled. “Well, so far, you’re doing okay. No major social blunders. Well, except the attempt to choke me.”
He laughed, and it was a different laugh, at least for him—a genuine, happy sort of laugh. “I shouldn’t have done that. It
belied—” he faltered, as if not sure he should say the words “—the respect I might have for you.” He turned toward the door
but paused, glancing back at the puzzle pieces scattered on the table. “Palazzo Barberini. You said you wanted to go?”
Aida hesitated, her heart speeding up as she considered the outcome of the offer. But to say no would bring questions that
she couldn’t answer. “You really don’t have to go through the trouble.”
“Consider it a favor,” he said with a small smile. “Friends do that, right?” He gave her a final look, one that was more curious
than anything else, before sauntering toward the door.
When the calm from the aegis dissipated and the throbbing of her heart rose to take its place, she took a deep breath, trying
to puzzle out what had just happened.
What did it mean to be friends with a god like Momus?