Page 21 of Possession Under the Southern Stars

I clear my throat. “Whina told me last week I need to stop tilting at windmills.”

“I think you’d make a great Don Quixote,” she says.

“He wasn’t known for his practical abilities,” I remind her, “and that’s what the museum needs right now.”

“Okay yes, that’s true, but this museum is your vision, Fraser. You’ve done amazing things by dreaming big and bringing your fantasies to life.” Her big brown eyes glow with admiration. She’s wearing a pink lip gloss today, and her lips shine. I bet they’d be slightly sticky if I kissed her.

If only I could bring my fantasies to life. I’d pin her up against the wall. Press my body up against her. Crush my lips to hers, and wipe that lip gloss right off.

She blinks a few times. She looks confused. Clearly, some of what I was imagining is showing in my eyes, but she can’t bring herself to believe it.

God, I want to kiss those doubts right out of her. I want to make love to her until she’s left in no doubt how gorgeous she is, and how much I want her.

“So,” I say, reluctant to leave but knowing I have to, “we’ll leave here t-tomorrow at one, okay?”

Her eyebrows lift slightly at the stutter, but she doesn’t comment on it. “Yes, no worries. I’ll bring my case with me.” She watches me get up. Her eyes are expressive, as if they’re made of glass and I can see straight past them into her thoughts. They’re filled with longing and a kind of sultry curiosity.

“You have to stop looking at me like that,” I tell her helplessly, “or we’re going to get in all kinds of trouble.”

Her eyes flare and her face flushes again, but she doesn’t look away. Her lips part a little, as if she’s thinking about me kissing her. Her bottom lip is slightly plumper than her top lip, and it looks soft as velvet.

“K-Kit Kats,” I mumble, resigned to the stutter. Ks are always the hardest letter.

“Sorry?”

“I can’t resist them either.” Huffing a sigh, I turn on my heel and walk out of the room.

I make sure to stay away from the conservation office for the rest of the day.

*

On Tuesday, I also make sure I’m busy all morning. I send Louise down to make sure Hallie is ready for the flight, and she returns and says that Hallie has been out and bought her dress for the ball and is all ready to go. I curse silently as I return to my reports. I’d half hoped she’d announce she couldn’t go for some reason.

But no, she’s going, and we’re going to be stuck together for forty-eight hours.

We’ve never spent that much time together without someone else present before. Usually Elora and Zoe are also in the conservation room when I go down, and whenever Joel’s in town and we all meet socially it’s rare that we get a moment alone.

Maybe it’s the best way to get her out of my system, though. It’s easy to put someone on a pedestal when you’re fantasizing about them. To imagine the conversation flowing, and to pretend you have lots in common. It’s possible that when we spend some significant time together, we won’t be compatible at all.

I look out of the window at the seagulls. Let’s face it, I tell myself, it wouldn’t be a big surprise, would it? There’s a reason I’m thirty and still single. Women don’t tend to get me. I don’t have any trouble finding dates, when I do make myself available. But it’s rare that I click with a girl. When I was younger, my love life consisted of a succession of short, intense relationships. Sex was never a problem, but out of the bedroom, it just didn’t work. Girls never understood my passion for history and archaeology, and I struggled to understand their excitement about things that baffled me, like celebrities, clothes, or Taylor Swift—I’ve nothing against the singer, but if it’s not blues, I’m not interested.

Occasionally, I did find one who was interested in history, maybe who’d taken a paper or two at university, like Ginger. But even in Ginger’s case, her range of knowledge was narrow, restricted to New Zealand twentieth century history, and she had little interest in broadening it, whereas I enjoy reading and discussing everything from prehistoric cave paintings to the Chinese Terracotta Warriors to Machu Picchu. Ginger quickly grew bored whenever I tried to discuss anything like that with her. That was when I knew that what we had would never be long term.

Of course, Hallie is an archaeologist, so she has a much broader interest, and whenever we’ve discussed a topic as a group, she’s always contributed with enthusiasm. But that still doesn’t mean we’re compatible. She’s shy, and maybe when we’re together she’ll be too tongue-tied to contribute much. Plus I’ll be stuttering. It should make for scintillating conversation.

Either way, what does it matter, Fraser? You work together! So it’s not as if you’re trying her on for size, so to speak. Hallie Woodford is strictly out of bounds, and that’s final. You have to remain distant and professional at all times. Even when you go to the ball and she’s dressed to the nines, in a dress thathugs her curves, and wearing strappy sandals that make your knees go weak.

I lower my head to the desk and bang it a few times. There really is no hope for me.

Chapter Six

Hallie

At 12:45 p.m., I tidy up the conservation room, go into our small bathroom, touch up my makeup, and brush my hair. I usually pin it up for work, but today I’m wearing it down. It reaches almost to my breasts, and I’m proud of the fact that it’s sleek and shiny. As I go out and tuck the brush and makeup bag into my suitcase, I wonder whether Fraser likes my hair. It was the one thing Ian would compliment me on.

At five minutes to one, I slip on my jacket and wheel the suitcase out into the foyer. Butterflies danced about in my stomach as if they’re fluttering from flower to flower.

I haven’t traveled much. I was born in Dunedin in the South Island, but although we moved to Wellington when I was eight, that was only because we had help from the authorities. Mum had no money of her own and couldn’t afford to take us on vacation. I went to university in Wellington. Before I started work at the museum, I worked for Archives New Zealand, which involved organizing records and helping people with their research, and as it was an admin job, I was never required to go to other offices or elsewhere in the country. Ian wasn’t fond of traveling, so we only ever went to Fiji for my sister’s wedding. Bearing all that in mind, I’m a little nervous about this trip to Tauranga.

---