Alyssa Schwarz
“Who is responsible for this?” Dr. Swanson waved his arms at one of the museum’s display cases before storming from the room, no doubt in search of one of the interns to rant at about proper cleaning procedures.
Richard chuckled to himself from his desk in the museum’s basement. Poor souls. They didn’t know what they’d gotten themselves into when they’d applied to the summer program. His colleague may have been one of the foremost calceologists, but in his opinion, the man was nothing more than a glorified shoe-enthusiast.
Richard O’Connell pinched the bridge of his nose and tossed his analysis of Hyperspectral Imaging of Ancient Documents on the table. Five drafts, and he still couldn’t get it right. He was supposed to be the keynote speaker at tomorrow’s opening of the new Pharaohs exhibit, and unless the museum’s donors were experts in advanced remote archaeology, he’d put them all into a deep sleep to rival even the mummies before they could open their wallets.
He’d thought a change of scenery would help him concentrate on the numbers, hence why he was holed away in the middle of the Egyptology storeroom. But all he’d accomplished so far were a few pages of edits and a sore back from the stiff seat.
A soft knock on the door peeled his attention away from his dry notes.
“If you’re looking for Dr. Swanson, last I saw him, he was headed toward the digital archives room.” All morning, students and staff had been in and out of the place, prepping for the new exhibition. Why he’d thought this would be a suitable place to work was beyond him, yet here he was.
Absent of the usual rustling of papers or harried footsteps, he risked a glance toward the door and sat upright the moment he spotted the familiar dark curls and green eyes.
“Miss Berline, what brings you down here?” He’d met the new assistant curator a handful of times in passing, but never down here. Standing, he took a moment to brush the creases from his button-down shirt as he tried to think of something else to say.
Dr. Swanson’s voice chose that unfortunate moment to pop into Richard’s mind. “Best to stay focused on fossils and mummies. It’s the live ones you’ve got to watch out for.”
But what did he know? The man was only a few years his senior, yet he’d made a point of avoiding the woman since she’d started there a few months ago. He was the last person Richard should be taking advice from. Even if she was his boss.
Her dress’s pleated skirt swished over her knees as she stepped into the room. The teal color made her eyes more striking than usual. Fluorescent lights or not.
“Dr. O’Connell, how nice to see you again.” She carried herself with a quiet confidence that put him immediately at ease. A rarity, really, when it came to him and women.
“And you as well, Miss Berline. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Oh, call me Evelyn. Everyone does.”
Richard couldn’t help but grin. Rick and Evie. Standing in the middle of the Egypt storeroom.
“My brother talks about this place so much I figured I’d come see what all the excitement was about.”
“Your brother wouldn’t happen to be named Jonathan, would he?” he asked, unable to resist the reference to his favorite movie.
She gave him a curious look, and he suddenly wished he could take back the silly remark before her soft giggle spilled out.
He released a sigh of relief. At least he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself. She’d laughed at his joke, which meant maybe he wasn’t so bad at this as he thought.
Face having turned a pleasant shade of pink, Evelyn calmed her laughter and swiped a tear from her eye. “I’m sure he’d love how you compared him to the comedic relief in The Mummy.”
“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”
She shot him a teasing grin. “Good luck with that. I’m not the one who has to work with him every day.”
Richard frowned in confusion, and her giggles returned.
“Terry—Dr. Swanson—he’s my brother.”
What? He closed his eyes and tried not to groan. Now the man’s earlier comments made sense. He’d thought his colleague had been warning him about women in general, not… this.
She glanced around the shelves, amused, and studied the various sizes of woven reed baskets on display. “Would you mind?”
Despite his colleague’s earlier warnings, he joined her as she walked around the room, talking about the artifacts as they went. “Count yourself lucky that Dr. Swanson… er, your brother, isn’t here. He’d lecture you for twenty minutes about the difference between an Egyptian and Nubian sandal. But of course, you’ve probably already heard that one.”
“And what would you lecture me on, Dr. O’Connell?” she teased.
He hadn’t noticed the dark blue ring around her irises in their earlier encounters, but it reminded him of the painted frescos newly discovered in the Theban Necropolis last month.
That was it.
Richard stopped mid-stride as a new idea for his paper hit him, and Evelyn ran into him from behind. She nearly fell into a display case of mummification jars when he caught her around the waist. Her face was only inches from his, stirring a host of feelings inside him he couldn’t identify.
Footsteps punctuated the silence, followed by Dr. Swanson’s voice.
“Quick, in here.” Evelyn dragged him toward the nearest shelf, and they hid like school children until the man disappeared down another hallway.
Together, they burst out laughing the moment the coast was clear, Evelyn’s smiles melting the last of his concerns.
“Bet you didn’t expect this when you came to work today,” she said between breaths, eyes fixed on him.
No, he hadn’t. And like those newly revealed frescos, it seemed he’d discovered something special as well.
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