Chapter 3
Carly
Janice and I sat at the front desk. It was late Wednesday morning, and the museum was quiet.
“I can’t believe Desmon actually kissed your hand,” Janice said, rolling her eyes. “I mean, he’s always been a little old-fashioned and eccentric. Filthy rich people usually are, especially if their hobby is collecting rare, ancient artifacts.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yup, I bet money smooths the way.”
If a random dude on the street greeted a woman he’d just met by kissing her hand, he’d be called a creep. But when someone like Desmon does it, it was…eccentric. It helped that he was also ridiculously hot too.
At the thought of Desmon and his low, rumbly voice, the butterflies in my tummy started up again.
Damn it! After the whole incident yesterday, I kept imagining him everywhere as I did my tour, but every time I looked, there was nothing.
“Well, we all have our little things,” I admitted. “Me, I’m a bit of a klutz.”
“Seriously.” Janice squared me a look. “We work at a museum. ‘Nuff said.”
That had me chuckling. She had a point. Many who chose to dedicate their lives to keeping museums running were oddballs, in the best possible way.
The massive man in the guard’s uniform who interviewed me for the job last week approached our desk. I squinted at his name tag. What was his name again? Right, Mateo.
Mateo was huge. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall, and he looked menacing too. Definitely a predator of some sort. If I didn’t know that his job was to protect everyone and everything in the museum, me and Janice included, I would let my instincts rule me and run at the sight of him. But looks in this case were deceiving, and I remembered him being kind and genuine despite looking like he could snap me like a twig.
He wasn’t human, I was sure of that. His light brown eyes looked almost yellow and his sharp features had a bit of a feline look to them. Lion shifter, maybe?
Again, I wasn’t sure if it was considered rude to ask, so I didn’t. Janice had been very open that she was dwarven from day one.
Mateo had his hair tied up today in the world’s most glorious man bun. I bet if he let it down, it would be a certified mane. Yep, I was calling it. Lion shifter.
“Slow day, ladies?” he smiled, showing teeth that were just this side of too sharp. He didn’t have fangs, though, but that could be his glamour spell working.
“It’s a Wednesday,” Janice observed. “That says it all.”
“Has the courier been by yet?” Mateo asked.
“Nope.” Janice held out the bowl of candy we kept behind the counter for him.
“Thanks,” he said, taking one, unwrapping it, and popping it into his mouth. “I’ll check back later.”
He tossed the wrapping into the trash bin as he headed down the hallway to where they’d set up the most recent exhibit. Janice and I had already nicknamed it The Orgy Room because all the statues were naked and some of them were mid-coitus.
“I’m heading out to grab lunch,” Janice said. “I’ll be back in an hour and you can take yours then. You okay holding down the fort?”
“Sure thing.”
And with that, Janice left for lunch. About half an hour later, a courier wearing street clothes and a cap that read Justin Time Delivery arrived with a small brown envelope.
“Why, hello there. You’re a new face. I’m Justin. Where’s Janice?”
“Hi Justin, I’m Carly. Janice just stepped out for lunch. I can take that.” I reached for the envelope. The second my hand touched it, my relatively useless magical talent of getting visions and sounds from random objects decided to spark to life. It wasn’t a full on vision, just a slight tugging and what sounded like a dial tone in my head.
I wasn’t surprised. I’d had this reaction from touching certain objects my entire life. As far as magical talents went, it wasn’t a particularly useful one. But for someone in my field, it was interesting. Considering I was literally surrounded by historical and magical artifacts, I was actually surprised I hadn’t gotten more visions working at the museum yet.
Although it could be because everything in the museum was behind glass, and I hadn’t gotten my hands on any of it. My talent required physical touch to work, though occasionally it worked through thin barriers, like the envelope in my hands. The only one I’d gotten so far at work—and then promptly ignored—was when I touched Desmon’s pants yesterday. I’d gotten a momentary image of an aerial view of the city.
I signed for the thick, bubble-lined envelope and tucked it into the drawer on top of my open purse. I’d been running late again today and had come right here after I swiped in instead of dropping my purse in my locker.
“Let Janice know I said hi,” Justin said with a tip of his cap.
“You got it.”
Alone again and with no sign of museum-goers, I pulled my notebook out of my purse and made a list of all the things I needed to pick up on the way home today. I was on my very last roll of toilet paper. It was one of the few things I splurged on, despite living paycheck to paycheck. Life is too short for scratchy TP! My tushy demands the cushy.
I noticed the envelope and flipped it over. It was addressed to Desmon. I wondered if he was in today. Maybe I could deliver it myself. It was a perfect excuse to go see him.
Okay—so I might have a teeny, tiny crush on the guy. I mean, who wouldn’t? He was perfection. I didn’t even care if it was all just glamour to hide what he really looked like. And I could happily ignore the fact that he was probably a rich snob for a bit of eye candy.
I actually had done a bit of online snooping about him last night. Every article I found referred to him as the “Dragon” of Darlington, but none actually confirmed if he was an actual dragon or if it was just a turn of phrase. That had led me down a rabbithole searching for proof of dragons.
If werewolves and minotaurs were real, then dragons could be real too, right? But every image or video I found had naysayers claiming it was all A.I. and reminding everyone that most myths and legends about dragons came from people finding fossils of dinosaurs.
Then again, dragons wouldn’t fit into buildings, glamour spell or no glamour spell. Desmon, on the other hand, fit perfectly into his dress shirt and pants. I suddenly found myself wondering how he looked without them.
An elderly couple interrupted the totally inappropriate thoughts about my boss, and I quickly stashed my notebook away before taking their payment, stamping their hands, and handing them each a map of the building.
Janice returned shortly thereafter so I could take my break. I’d packed a lunch, but it was a beautiful fall day, and I wanted to enjoy it before it got too cold to sit out on a park bench.
It wasn’t until I finished my sandwich and opened my purse to tuck my water bottle back inside that I realized I’d taken the envelope with Desmon’s delivery right out of the museum.
Oops! I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to do that. I took one last big lungful of crisp autumn air before hurrying back across the street and into the museum.
I waved to the janitor who was standing by the front desk. Janice wasn’t there. She must be in the ladies’ room. But it was so quiet today that I doubted anyone would miss her.
I went to the staff room to drop off my bag. Envelope in hand, I considered looking for Mateo so he could deliver it to Desmon, but hesitated. I could just do it myself, if he was in.
I doubt that he’d want me to actually cover the dry cleaning, considering he was worth a fortune, but I still felt bad about yesterday. I sighed. Who was I kidding? This was a thinly veiled attempt to see him again.
I wasn’t delusional. I knew he probably wouldn’t be interested in someone like me: too young, too inexperienced, too chubby, and frankly too much of a nobody. That didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy some eye candy. Right?
I made my way up the central staircase to the top floor of the building. Compared to the American Natural Museum of History in New York, where I’d done my internship, which boasted a whopping twenty-one interconnected buildings, the Museum of Darlington was tiny, despite its imposing foyer, opulent décor, and unique offerings.
It had only one large building with three floors, a gorgeous rooftop garden, and a giant planted wrap-around balcony. Honestly, this smaller museum was much more to my liking. Fossils were cool and all, but I was much more interested in crazy battles and fantastic lore. Also, things like old jewelry and weapons were much more likely to give me visions than old bones that had been trapped first behind flesh and then under sediment for thousands of years.
Since the fall of The Wall, I’d done a deep dive into magical artifacts. Okay, deep dive was putting it mildly. I was obsessed with the subject for years, researching everything I could. My professor, who was the only forest nymph in academia, ever, had encouraged me to explore my talent, working with me to see what it could uncover. We’d learned that what was important to inanimate objects usually wasn’t that important historically.
Naturally, when Darlington Museum posted their job opening, I jumped on the chance to work there. My old job didn’t pay me enough to live in New York. Museum jobs, in general, didn’t pay well. They were more a labor of love. But love didn’t pay the bills, and I had student loans up the wazoo.
I paused in front of the double doors leading to Desmon’s office. Like the rest of the building, the doors were ornate: there was even a plaque on it bordered in gold filigree with his name. There was also a camera above the door.
My hands were sweaty as I knocked, which was silly because he was just a guy. A very gorgeous, mega-wealthy guy who could possibly be a dragon, but still.
I waved at the camera and ventured a small smile as I waited for a response. None came.
Sigh. I guess he wasn’t in today. Admittedly Janice had been surprised to see him yesterday, so maybe he didn’t come in that often.
I was just about to slip the envelope through the mail slot when the door opened, and a very big and imposing Desmon greeted me. The top few buttons of his silky shirt were unbuttoned, giving me a glimpse of his tanned and well-defined pecs.
My mouth went dry, and all I could do was hold the envelope out to him like a idiot.
Great. What a wonderful second impression.
I wasn’t usually like this around men, I swear. Though there had never been anyone I wanted to impress before. I’d only ever had one boyfriend, but I’d ended things with him when I realized I’d rather be single than be stuck with a man-child.
Desmon took the envelope from me, looking just as grumpy as he had been yesterday before doing a one-eighty and pouring on the charm for the introductions. “I was waiting for that,” he grunted.
I gathered my wits about me enough to say, “You’re welcome, then.”
I was about to turn to leave when he reached out to touch my arm. The touch was sizzling, despite the fabric between us.
“Carly, wait.”
He remembered my name?
“Come in.” He guided me into his office and closed the door behind us. “Sit.” He took a seat in his leather chair, leaned back, and placed his hands casually behind his head.
Ugh! Could the guy be any sexier?
And that was how I found myself alone with the Dragon of Darlington.