Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Once the excitement of the call faded, Aila’s bureaucratic nightmare began.
She sat through hour-long lunches with Director Hawthorn, reviewing protocol binders Aila could already recite verbatim. Conference calls with IMWS facilitators, walk-throughs for the San Tamculo Police Department, an assigned watchlist of Silimalo phoenix documentaries that were outdated by fifteen years and why had no one made a new Silimalo phoenix documentary in fifteen years ? Aila added that to her list of offenses she’d have to right one day.
And paperwork. Skies and seas, the paperwork . Aila’s eyes turned fuzzy the moment she looked at a protocol confirmation, breeding registry, endangered wildlife transportation passport. Any break from the drudgery should have come as a joy.
Except when that “break” finally came, it required social interaction. Once the phoenix transfer passed the final stages of IMWS approval, Director Hawthorn insisted on hosting a private celebration at the zoo.
“It will be fun!” he’d said.
“A welcome reward for all your hard work!” he’d said.
Aila would rather celebrate with a pint of ice cream and a carbuncle curled in her lap at home, yet Tanya’s batting eyelashes conned her into agreeing to host the shindig at the renovated phoenix complex.
“A little higher!” Tanya ordered.
Aila groaned from atop her ladder, eyeing the tiles too far below her before risking another step up. She tossed the last string of decorative lights atop the wooden pagoda on their patio. Without waiting for Tanya’s approval, she hurried back down to solid ground, then huffed a warm breath into her hands.
The dead of winter had arrived. At least, as wintery as San Tamculo got. Movas had an arid coast, a desert interior, but the low mountains in between were dusted with snow, crowns of white overlooking the city. This month’s zoo celebration was a manzanita festival, the red-barked shrubs some of the first to bloom in the surrounding hillsides and the zoo’s manicured plant beds. The string lights on the patio mimicked the bell-shaped flowers in white and pink.
Tanya plugged in the last string, a dainty glow as the sun sank behind trees.
“What did I tell you?” Tanya beamed. “Fancy patio for fancy folks.”
Aila couldn’t argue with that. Beyond the lights, they’d dressed the patio with tables draped in crimson cloth, catered by the zoo’s best kitchen. Cubed cheeses. Sliced meats. Crackers shaped like phoenix feathers, coated with cayenne sesame seeds. Fancier hors d’oeuvres included dragon-shaped puff pastries coiled around a hoard of Vjari mushroom stuffing, fruit arranged like peacock griffin feathers, a coffee-flavored Silimalo layer cake, cookies shaped like flowers and coated in rich Ziclexian chocolate. More than once, Tanya smacked Aila’s hand to keep her from raiding the food before their guests arrived.
“Just one?” Aila complained. “I’ll rearrange them so no one notices!”
“Ailes.” Tanya straightened a vase of fragrant sage and white lilac flowers. “Why have you got to act like a gremlin at your own party?”
“It is not my party!”
Tanya’s brow lifted.
OK, maybe it was a little bit Aila’s party. That made things worse. She’d have to stay and talk to people instead of piling a plate full of food, then absconding to a corner. The strategy had helped her survive every party she’d ever attended. Dread for social interaction rattled in her head, squeaking like rusty wheels on a—
Oh, wait. No. That was just Teddy pushing along a metal trolley cart.
He eased the old contraption over the doorjamb and onto the patio, double tiers piled not with the usual bowls of food pellets and chopped vegetables, but bottled water and soda cans dropped off by the caterers. Tanya had invited her beau to enjoy the fancy food, a thank you for his patience through several dozen hours of overtime and at least one interrupted date night, when Aila had called Tanya in a panic about ordering the proper thread count of dish towels.
In light of the classy decorations, he’d swapped faded work jeans for less faded formal jeans, had thrown his Humane Society T-shirt beneath Tanya’s desk in favor of a plum button-down that pudged a little at his rounded middle.
“Hey, Tani,” he said over the creaking trolley, “where do you want these?
“On that end of the table. Thanks so much.” Tanya pecked a kiss down to his cheek, then zipped inside like a jeweled hummingbird, arms piled with trash wrappers to throw away.
Always so easy, the two of them.
Teddy wheeled the trolley beside the banquet table and started setting the soda cans out in neat little lines. “You know, when you two invited me,” he said, light with amusement, “I was told it would be a fun night, not that I’d be conscripted into— Aila, no .”
Aila froze like a racoon caught with its paw in a trashcan, her moderately less grimy hand reaching for a feather-shaped cake pop—one behind the others, less likely for Tanya to miss.
“But she’s not looking,” Aila hissed at Theodore.
“ I’m looking,” he returned.
“You’d betray our friendship so easily?”
“Aila. What’s clause one of the BFF–Boyfriend Contract?”
He spoke like the thing was a physical object.
Because it was, of course. Aila had demanded he sign it before granting her blessing to the relationship. Tanya, the coy pigeon, refused to sign as their witness—in part because she said it was ridiculous, but also she was laughing too hard. Didn’t matter. Aila got a notary in town to take care of it.
Clause one was simple. “Tanya comes first,” Aila grumbled. She scrunched her nose, thwarted by her own paperwork.
Teddy nudged her, armed with a conspiring grin. Clause three: no holding grudges.
“Thanks for letting me steal Tanya so much,” she said, soft and earnest.
“Clause two,” he answered smugly.
Clause two: Tanya makes her own decisions. We the undersigned agree to work in coordination to support those decisions.
“Tanya never would have let you do this alone.” Theodore donned a surprisingly sage air for someone squinting over thick-rimmed glasses, laying out soda cans. “Will be nice to see her with some more free time, though. Needs to work on her own program.”
Aila blinked. “Her own program?”
“Sure. The volunteer keeper program? She’s been working on it most nights, trying to get ready for that big grant deadline. You know.”
Aila nodded like she did know. Like her heart wasn’t climbing to an unhealthy pit-pat .
She combed her thought archives, sifting for any sticky notes of Tanya comments she’d let fall under the cabinets. They’d been so busy getting the phoenix building ready. Sorting the paperwork. Prepping for this celebration.
There’d been no talk of volunteer programs or grant applications.
Tanya had everything under control. She’d snag whatever grant she applied for, would get this program running and have bright-eyed volunteers swarming the zoo in no time. Aila had no doubt of that—though a little twist went through her chest, thinking Tanya hadn’t shared these latest developments with her. Had Aila been too busy? Too sleep deprived?
Then she heard footsteps, and all her side worries scattered like tadpoles spooked by a predatory bird.
The first guests stepped onto the patio: a flock of griffin show keepers in their black zoo polos. Normally, Aila gave the crew as wide a berth as she did their wicked queen, but with how much sweat and elbow grease they’d volunteered to get the building ready for inspection, she conceded a smile and a wave as they beelined for the banquet tables. Tanya, the excellent host, ran them through the culinary offerings. With the festivities underway, Aila eyed the spread with renewed hope.
Before she could strike, a sparkling smile snagged her from the doorway.
Connor waved. Directly at her.
Aila waved back, eyes wide. Without the excuse of the renovations, he hadn’t been around the phoenix complex as often. Obviously. That made sense. Connor had his own exhibits to tend to. Why should she expect him to waste time over here? Sure, he’d congratulated her when news of the phoenix transfer came through. Standard workplace behavior.
Connor’s brow tilted.
“Aila,” Teddy whispered, urgent. “Put your hand down.”
Shit. Aila was still waving. Why was she still waving? She lowered her hand, then became utterly flustered as to what to do with it.
“Oh no. Not this again.” Tanya cozied up to Teddy’s side, voice a conspiring hush, keen eyes darting between Connor and Aila as a little pastry dragon perched in her aquamarine nails.
“Should we do something?” Theodore said.
“You’ve got to let those poor, blind-eyed kittens stumble their way to independence at some point,” Tanya said.
“You aren’t helping ,” Aila said.
Tanya pressed a firm hand to her back. “You can do this, Ailes.”
“I absolutely cannot. What in all the skies and seas makes you think—”
Then Tanya gave her a firm push toward the banquet table, her and Teddy hanging back like smug goose parents watching their chick stumble into oncoming traffic.
Aila kept her eyes down. Food. Focus on the food. Intent on stuffing her face with everything in sight, she’d piled her plate several inches high when Connor appeared beside her. He wore his zoo uniform, polo crisp black against his pale skin, the tousled curl of his hair as delicious as anything on the banquet table.
“Connor! Hello!”
Across the table, a couple of griffin show keepers snickered. They could choke on their puff pastry.
“Long time no see, Aila!” Connor nudged her arm. “Thanks for the invite. And congratulations again on the phoenix transfer! Always seems to be exciting news coming from you these days.”
“Oh. Well.” Aila blushed and shoved a pastry into her mouth, continuing before she’d swallowed. “Thank you. We’ve been pretty busy.”
“I bet. A new Silimalo phoenix, right here in our zoo? That’s huge news.” His eyes lit up as he reached across the table. “No way, are these those spicy phoenix crackers? Catering usually only whips these out for donor dinners.”
“You’ve been to the donor dinners?” Aila had received an invite once or twice, but a crowd that fancy scared her more than the kelpie.
“Of course,” Connor said. “Good food. Classy company.”
Aila chuckled. “Oh yeah. Not exactly the lifestyle of a zookeeper salary.”
“Sure.” Connor gave a theatrical eye roll. “But we all knew that signing up, right?”
OK. This was OK. Aila had made it how many words without messing things up? One… five… ten… twenty…
That didn’t matter.
This was her chance, free of deadlines and obligations for manual labor. Tonight, she could talk to Connor, and not as her usual bumbling self who’d once asked a girl out for candlesticks instead of coffee. She’d be clever. Charming. Watch out, world, Aila had a phoenix coming her way, and she might as well be a new woman.
“Hey,” Connor said. “Is that Director Rivera?”
“ What? ” Aila coughed up a flake of puff pastry. Off to an excellent start.
Maria Rivera stepped onto the patio with a clack of heels, dressed in a black blazer and a pencil skirt printed with crimson phoenix feathers, black bun glinting in the string lights as she tilted her head to admire the decorations. At her side, Giuseppe Garumano sported what could have been the same navy suit he’d worn for the inspection, his mustache gelled into swirls.
“We can catch up later,” Connor said with a wink. “Don’t want to keep you from your important guests.”
“Oh, no, not at all, I’m sure they’re fine on their own.”
The plea fell on empty ears. As Connor left her to talk to the other keepers, Rivera strode toward Aila with a smile. Compared to all the keepers in their work uniforms, the IMWS director’s poise made Aila feel like a child masquerading at the adult table. She clutched her plate, seeking an anchor.
“Aila! So good to see you!”
Rivera shook her hand. Garumano followed. Aila tried to come off as less of a dead fish than last time, though at least she could blame clammy hands on the season.
“Thank you so much for coming, Ms. Rivera. Mr. Garumano. We’re so honored to have been selected for the transfer. It…” Aila chuckled, half nerves, half genuine. “Still feels like a dream.”
Felt like a dream, because it was a dream. How could so much have changed since Aila was a (less?) awkward new keeper meeting Rivera at a zoo gala? Since she’d sent that email on a whim? Since being dragged to the zoo director’s office, certain she’d face her doom?
Rivera’s smile verged on proud. In a weird way, it reminded Aila of her mother.
“A dream?” Rivera chuckled. “I’m glad to hear it. Though don’t discount your hard work, Miss Macbhairan. Giuseppe had the most glowing things to say after his inspection.”
Aila shouldn’t have gawked. “Glowing? Really? ”
Garumano nodded, his expression swathed in mustache. “Intimate knowledge of the species. Detailed contingency plans. The building is old, but brought well up to code.”
Could have mentioned that during the inspection and not given Aila a heart attack. Still, was that a swell of pride in her chest? Maybe just heartburn. She downed another pastry.
“We’re delighted the phoenix will find a good home here,” Rivera said. “And of course, please consider this just the beginning of our relationship. Everyone in the breeding network will be eager to help you succeed.”
Aila shrank at the prospect but managed a nod. Just the entire future of a species resting on her shoulders. No big deal.
“We can only hope,” Garumano added, grim. “After what happened at Jewelport, we could use some good news.”
Aila fought a pull of morbid curiosity. Despite following the news with a fine-toothed comb, few details ever came out of the investigation into the stolen Jewelport phoenixes.
“Does IMWS know what happened?” She realized her inappropriate enthusiasm and reined it back. “I mean, from a learning standpoint. To avoid repeating the same mistakes. Not that I’m saying anyone in Jewelport made a mistake, I’m sure they all did their best.”
Rivera’s smile tightened. “Let’s not talk about such grim things. Tonight is supposed to be about the future.”
“And why not, Maria?” Garumano said. “We need to prepare her, in case it happens again!”
Aila’s stomach sank. As awful as the events at the Jewelport Zoo had been, she hadn’t thought…
It could happen again. The male phoenix was coming to her. She’d be responsible for both of them. The poachers wouldn’t risk nabbing another clutch of chicks, would they?
“That’s why security was so important to the inspection,” Rivera said. “And why we updated our protocols across the board.”
“Jewelport thought they were prepared,” Garumano argued. “Yet the thieves found every blind spot in the security cameras. Phone jammers to keep the police from being called.”
Director Rivera touched Aila’s arm. “We don’t mean to worry you, Aila. For now, all you need to focus on is the birds. We’re sure you’ll do us all proud, and IMWS is here to support you every step of the way.”
Aila’s stomach had turned to a swarm of orchid vipers. She wasn’t good at hiding her unease, judging by Rivera’s worried look.
“I’m sure a lot of information is still confidential,” Aila said. “But did you ever find the phoenixes?”
Rivera and Garumano shared a long look before shaking their heads. Aila’s stomach tied a fresh knot, imagining the poachers making off with the feathers, no need for the beautiful birds they’d been plucked from.
“What about who did it?” Aila asked, harder.
“The thieves, no.” Rivera lowered her voice. “Though the Jewelport police brought one of the zoo’s food workers in for questioning. He confessed to providing advice on how to enter the zoo unnoticed, in return for a handsome monetary reward.”
Garumano’s brow furrowed. “That blasted live camera let the thieves know exactly when to strike, after the female immolated. But to think one of our own opened the door? Unacceptable. And probably not an isolated incident.”
Aila swallowed hard, a bit of pastry stuck in her throat. “What do you mean?”
She knew the answer the moment she asked. The San Tamculo Zoo had endured its own theft, not as sensational in the news as a phoenix nabbing, but the disappearance of those diamondback dragon hatchlings was a sore wound. The shipment should have been discreet, the dates kept quiet. Yet even oblivious Aila had caught the rumors around the zoo. How easy would it have been to slip a tracker in the box when no one was looking, then grab the dragons once they were in transit?
Someone in the zoo. This zoo, maybe. Who could be so heartless they would—
Her thoughts crumbled, scattered like dust to the Movasi desert.
Luciana stepped onto the patio.
Despite Aila’s esteemed company, her mouth hinged open to an unflattering angle. She often attached facetious mental descriptors to the witch—strutting, preening, glowing. Mostly to make herself feel better.
Tonight, Luciana strutted onto the patio in heels she must have changed into after work. She preened in a maroon dress with frilled hem, tasteful enough for a professional function, accentuating every curve and the warm brown of her skin. She glowed in golden eyeshadow and black curls, catching every sparkle of the string lights.
Aila no longer felt the cold of the season. For some reason, she found herself quite warm.
Along with Luciana came Director Hawthorn, both laughing as they entered. Aila had no sooner donned her suspicious squint than the director headed their way.
“Maria!” He greeted her with a kiss to each cheek. “Giuseppe.” A firm handshake. “We’re delighted to have you visiting tonight. Have you had a chance to enjoy the zoo this afternoon? Perhaps I could show you our new pair of orchid vipers in the reptile house? Gorgeous specimens.”
While the visiting dignitaries exchanged pleasantries, Aila squinted her displeasure at Luciana. The witch’s elegant lashes narrowed in return.
“But first, where are my manners?” Director Hawthorn said. “This is Luciana Reyes, head of our griffin show. And recently nominated for a Public Outreach Award by the Movas Society for Science Education. For the second year in a row!”
Aila held back an eye roll.
Luciana put on a dazzling smile. “My pleasure.”
They shook hands. Luciana’s grasp looked obnoxiously firm.
“Miss Reyes and I have been discussing the Silimalo phoenix transfer,” Hawthorn continued. “She’s agreed to join the project as a public relations coordinator.”
What was that ringing sound in Aila’s ears?
The reactions in the circle could have been night and day. Rivera smiled in delight. Garumano nodded. Aila puckered as if she’d downed a bag of extra sour lemon candies.
“What a wonderful idea!” Rivera said. “After all this terrible news from the Jewelport Zoo, we could use some good press with the transfer.”
“Luciana will see to that,” Hawthorn said. “Since she took over the griffin show, attendance is up sevenfold. We’ve had to look into expanded seating in the amphitheater.”
Garumano’s brows shot up. “Is that so? Most impressive.”
Luciana gave an airy laugh. “Oh, you’re all too kind. I’m delighted to be part of such a momentous occasion for the zoo.”
“But I see you’ve yet to try our fine catering!” Hawthorn ushered them to the banquet tables. “Please, we can chat more with proper accompaniments.”
The three important people shuffled off, gathering plates as Director Hawthorn boasted over every ingredient (all sourced from local San Tamculo farms). Aila was rooted in place, glaring up at her maroon-clad nemesis with the ferocity of a water panther (unfortunately, none of the chameleon-like fur to match). Luciana’s smile dropped.
“The fuck was that about?” Aila hissed.
“Right. Well.” Luciana inspected her ruby nails. “It seems we’ll be working together a while longer. Believe me, I’m not thrilled about it, either. But I suppose there ought to be someone around here who can spin more than two sentences together in front of the press.”
Aila scoffed. “I could memorize two sentences. No problem.”
Luciana lifted an elegant brow.
“ And ,” Aila continued, “I don’t need you hanging around here after you tried to sabotage my inspection.”
“Sabotage? What in all the skies and seas are you talking about?”
“You called me away in the middle of Garumano’s visit!”
“Oh.” Luciana waved a hand. “You mean that part where I dragged you out of what I can only imagine was an awkward conversation so you could demonstrate your animal handling abilities and crisis management in a real-life scenario?”
Aila blinked, speechless. That couldn’t be right. Luciana just happened to be in the World of Birds aviary, even though that wasn’t her department. She’d just happened to be the one to radio for help when Archie stole the ring. She’d just happened to defuse the situation until Aila arrived.
Every second she remained silent was another victory for Luciana.
“You did what?” Smooth, Aila.
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay out of your way.” Luciana clicked her tongue, then her heels, as she joined the dignitaries at the banquet table, stepping into their midst with a smile.
How did she always make it look so effortless?
Suddenly, the patio felt too crowded. Too hostile. Aila retreated, a wave of stress reverting her to typical party gremlin behavior. No one seemed to notice as she slipped away. No one ever did.
Inside, the empty phoenix complex met her with blissful quiet. No judging eyes. Rubra perched in her aviary, dozing with beak tucked under her wing. Just in case anyone wandered in to appreciate the magnificent bird, Aila cloistered herself in the kitchen, safe within four walls and stark overhead lights.
She leaned against the counter and breathed.
Horns and fangs, how had she gotten this far as such a mess of a person?
Luciana saved her ass with the building renovations. That should have been the end of it, one last chink in Aila’s pride, then on their separate ways again. Now, Aila had to deal with her as PR director? The decision made sense. Aila knew her birds, enough to impress Director Garumano. Closet her in a back room, and she’d flourish like a mushroom in a tray of dirt.
Luciana was a sunflower, beautiful and confident. Brilliant with the public. The phoenix program needed someone like her. It deserved someone like her, someone to smile and spin engaging tales of phoenix conservation as cameras snapped. Aila didn’t need to feel intimidated. They each had their own strengths, and there was nothing wrong with hers.
Except sometimes, Aila wished she could be better at talking to people. Even a little bit. Maybe then, Tanya wouldn’t have to babysit her at important parties. Aila could tell people why Rubra was so amazing.
“Hey, Aila?”
She startled at the voice from the door. Usually, Tanya was the first to notice her scamper off at social functions, the one to slip her sweets from the banquet table while Aila built her energy back up.
This time, Connor leaned through the doorway. Aila’s heart flipped.
“Hi, Connor.” She tried to muster enthusiasm. After so much draining interaction that night, a small hello was like squeezing a dead battery.
“Are you all right?” Connor asked. “I noticed you’d disappeared.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be right back out.” A smile, half-formed.
Connor’s came out so much better. Softer. “You aren’t great with people, are you?”
“I mean… That’s not…” Even lying was too much effort. She sighed. “No. Not really.”
He joined her in the kitchen, a casual lean against the counter beside her. “You’re fine. Last I checked, Director Hawthorn was still talking about the menu. You know how passionate he gets.”
“They are very nice snacks.”
“Only the best locally sourced ingredients.”
They shared a laugh. Aila sat a little easier. Maybe tonight wasn’t so bad.
“So…” Connor said. “I overheard Luciana…”
Yep . There it was, all that tension back again. “Can we not talk about it?”
“You two have some sort of history?”
That sounded an awful lot like talking about it. “Gee. What gave you that idea?”
“Whenever the two of you are in sight of each other, you both glare as hard as a pair of mating diamondback dragons.”
Not hard enough.
“Well, you know.” Aila sheltered behind crossed arms. “It’s just that she’s better than me at everything and always has been. That’s all.”
“That’s not true.”
Aila made a long, unflattering sound, blowing air over her lips. He didn’t have to say dumb, nice things like that. Not as if they were…
Standing in a room together.
Alone.
So very close. An inch of lean to the side, and Aila’s arm would brush his.
She cleared her throat. “Why would you say that?”
Connor grinned. If not for the counter, jelly legs Aila would have been on the floor.
“Come on, Aila. You’re smart. Determined. You passed that inspection with flying colors, from what I heard.”
Every introverted muscle in Aila’s body screamed at her to look away, to play with her fingers or wiggle her toes. She couldn’t. Not with Connor staring at her like that.
“You helped,” she whispered. Instant regret. Whispering sounded far too… intimate .
“A lot of us helped ,” Connor said. “But you’re the one who convinced IMWS the phoenix will be safe here. Also, Tanya showed me your flashcards. That stack was scary thick.”
Aila couldn’t hold out any longer. Her eyes dropped to the linoleum floor, seeking refuge, a blush burning her cheeks.
She flinched when cool fingers cupped her chin, tilting her face up.
“Why do you always do that?” Connor said, soft.
Aila might have stopped breathing. Her heart might have disintegrated in her chest. All her panicked thoughts could register was the touch of Connor’s fingers. The smell of pine, a sweet vanilla spice. His eyes, clear and blue and inches from hers.
Skies and seas, his face inches from hers.
“Do what?” Aila squeaked.
“Look away, like you have something to hide from. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished.” That grin sliced her heart clean open. “I know I am.”
His gaze drifted, down to her mouth.
“ Would you like to go out for dinner some time ?” Aila blurted, much too loud for two people sitting alone, inches apart. “I mean…” Her blush deepened, threatening to melt her cheeks. “If you’re into that kind of thing.”
Connor’s grin widened. “Yeah. I’m into that kind of thing.”
And then he kissed her.
Fortunately for Aila’s exploding heart, it was a short kiss. A light press of lips as his hand cupped her cheek, scarcely enough to savor the moment, ending with that beautiful ache for more. She sighed low and wistful, something hot in her belly, hand bracing the counter to keep from swooning onto the floor.
Aila hadn’t had many kisses in her life. This… wasn’t a bad one.
Connor pulled back, his fingers slipping off her chin with one parting, shiver-worthy brush. “Dinner, then? Tomorrow at seven?”
Oof. Late dinner. Usually, Aila would be home in pajamas by seven. She could make an exception. “Sure. Sounds like a—”
Her throat closed up. Connor’s brow tilted.
“A date ?” he finished.
“Yes. That.”
“I’ll see you then.”
With a parting grin, Connor disappeared through the door, back to the party.
Aila melted onto the floor, managing to catch her back against the cabinets. Her heart had to be beating a thousand times a minute. Her lips tingled where Connor had kissed her, warmth creeping through her like a spring thaw.
“Skies and seas,” she breathed to herself.
A date with a handsome boy. A new phoenix on the way. Alone in a dim but renovated kitchen, Aila smiled. Luciana could have her precious PR.
For this moment, Aila’s life was perfect.