Page 5 of Blue Embers
“I did, but obviously it didn’t work out,” she smiled, gesturing with the items in both of her coffeeless hands.
“I haven’t had my coffee this morning either,” I fibbed. “Would you care to accompany me? I’d like to get caught up on everything.”
“Uh,” she hesitated, glancing up at the office as if she had other things to do. “Sure. Of course I can put aside a few moments for you. You’re my boss, after all.”
Slipping her tablet into her satchel, she removed her glasses, tucked them away, and pivoted gracefully on her toes to start back toward the entrance. As we walked, I realized how quickly she was moving, each long-legged stride carrying her farther than the average woman. She paced with a decisive strut, shoulders back, chin high. I couldn’t help observing her in my peripheral as we moved to the lobby and out the doors into the partially cloudy day. She was unique in her physique and the way she moved with purpose. Saying I was intrigued was hardly enough to describe my reaction to her.
Down the street from the museum was a small coffee shop with a garden in the back where outdoor chairs were set up on a shaded patio. Neither of us had verbally decided to go there, but somehow we both headed in that direction without the need to confirm a destination.
Passing people on the street, I was drawing eyes from all sides. I greeted any eye contact with a polite grin and most everyone who caught it smiled back but followed the exchange with a swift lowering of their gaze. It didn’t take long for Persephone to notice. I could tell she had by the subtle clearing of her throat about halfway to the cafe, but she didn’t comment. I was a bit curious as to why, but the questions were part of the fun, so I didn’t poke. Not yet.
Turning into the coffee shop, we both walked up to the bar and put in our orders. I listened as Persephone ordered a hot, hazelnut latte with honey before I requested an espresso for myself. Once we’d gotten our drinks, the two of us headed out back to the patio, finding a pair of white, antique chairs in a corner that sat around a small, Victorian bistro table.
“So,” Persephone started, crossing her long legs and turning them slightly to the side so she wouldn’t bump mine under the table. “Any critiques, Mr. Valentyne? On the exhibit, I mean.”
I took a glance down at the white, four-inch pumps on her feet and wanted to shoot her an inviting glance, but refrained. This woman didn’t seem the type to play around.
“Please,” I inclined my head, taking a sip of my espresso. “Call me Killian. And I love what you’ve done. It’s almost everything I’d imagined.”
“Almost?”
“I did say I had something to add, didn’t I?” I smirked at her.
“Right. What is it then?”
“You first.”
Persephone paused, her eyes narrowing again in such a slight manner that anyone could have missed it, but not me. She knew I was eager to toy with her. She didn’t strike me as someone naive or inexperienced with flirtation and I suspected she wouldn’t have it. The idea of a challenge, however, was just as attractive as the woman herself.
I watched Persephone reach around for the satchel beside her and pull a small leather pouch out of the inside pocket. Loosening the drawstring, she carefully dumped a piece of jewelry into her palm. It was nothing too impressive at first glance. Just a little metal pendant on a leather string. She placed it in the center of the table in offering. Reaching over, I picked up the pendant, looking over the intricacy of the small dragon etched into the rare, silvery-green metal, which was shaped like a teardrop with a rigid edge on one side.
“This is Draakamir metal,” I said. “You don’t see this kind of craftsmanship often. How’d you get this?”
“A Draak from a long time ago,” she said. “Someone that made a big difference in my life and then disappeared.”
“Really? Color me intrigued.” I sat back to get comfortable. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story,” she said with a sigh. “One I don’t even know the details of, to be honest. I never met the Draak. He was really more a part of my sister’s life than mine and my sister remained very secretive about him, but he gave her this before he disappeared. It took her fourteen years, but she finally gave up on him and gave this to me. So...” she stopped.
“And you want to put it in a museum?”
She held my gaze, her expression as flat as a placid lake.
“The pendant either gathers dust on my dresser or it gets put into a display that I’ve become very passionate about over the months,” she said.
“Passionate? It pleases me to hear that.”
“Mr. Valentyne--”
“Killian,” I insisted.
“Killian,” she corrected herself, her tongue sounding reluctant to say my first name. “I’ve studied your people all my life for personal and professional reasons. I didn’t apply for this job because I needed the work. I did it because this is something I love to do. To be completely honest, I was a bit disappointed at how many times I’ve tried to get you more involved. You seem a bit disconnected from it. I thought since you’re funding it that it might be something you really wanted as well. And I know you were involved with the attack in Nytho. I can’t imagine what kinds of things you’ve been having to take care of since then, but it’s been three months. Now the exhibit is almost complete and I was eager to know if you still thought it was important.”
“It is,” I said, dismissing the mention of the gala attack. “But I see the end result to be the most important part. I needed someone who enjoyed the hunt for artifacts and art to curate the exhibit.”
“You don’t enjoy the hunt?”
“While it might interest someone like you, all those things are things from our past. We’ve all seen them before,” I shrugged. “The idea was to let the rest of the world see it as well. I believe a stronger understanding of each other might ease some resilient tension between our races.”
