Page 81 of Handle with Care
“I want to talk about what happened with Will.”
“I understand this is difficult to process,” Miguel acknowledges. “It’s difficult for us as well.”
They don’t even know the half of it. The feel of Will in my arms, his breath against my skin. The way he looks at me when he thinks I’m sleeping.
“You can’t only blame Will for this. No matter what he might’ve said or done. Because—” I gulp. “Because this is equally my fault too.”
“Dylan…” Lily tries in a very reasonable tone of voice.
But I’m beyond reason. Call it the lack of sleep for a few nights in a row or the emotion coursing through me all week. I’m raw, exposed, and frankly, lost.
“Please,” I try, doing my best to channel my inner Will, who would act totally convincing as a museum professional, as if he has the degree. “I’ve been trying to understand, but I can’t. We did all the right procedures. We signed in the exhibits. The scan of the receipt is even on the system. It’s a mistake in the location field, which we never filled out. It’s an innocent mistake. Either one of us could have made it.”
Miguel listens attentively.
Lily begins to shake her head. She tries again. “Dylan…”
“I’ve been looking for the collection, too, all week. I haven’t stopped. Because the collection has to be in the museum. It can’t have walked out. I mean, Will doesn’t have it in him to steal. I’d never imagine it in a million years. And I know for a fact we brought the Vivienne Westwood collection inside.”
“We don’t believe Will has stolen anything, contrary to the rumors running rampant around the museum,” Miguel says wryly, peering at me through his glasses like I’m a curious exhibit myself for someone’s cabinet of curiosities from their nineteenth-century Grand Tour of Europe.
My shoulders ease slightly. I reach for my water and take a big swallow, unable to keep from swallowing too much at once. Icough and splutter till my eyes water. Apparently, inhaling water is a bad idea. “Sorry, that went down… the wrong way.”
They wait till I regain my composure.
“Please. You’ll need to rehire him, you see. He’s worked so hard, and he’s made a huge effort to learn the job. He really is the perfect intern.”
They glance at each other with some kind of leadership telepathy, which I don’t share. Miguel turns slightly towards me. His expression softens slightly. “I understand you must have become friends through your close working relationship?—”
It’s everything I can do to keep from turning fuchsia on the spot. How much does he actually know? Nobody can actually know about Will and me. In all the rumors I’ve heard, there’s no hint that anyone thinks we’re more than coworkers in all the spicy gossip running wild around the museum.
“—and that you’re loyal to him?—”
“Please,” I say urgently. “You don’t understand. There’s only one logical solution. If you fire him, you have to fire me too. There’s no way I’ve done anything different. I’m as responsible for losing the collection as Will. You can’t?—”
The words are running out of my mouth now in a wild stream. Wide-eyed, I wish I could slow down, keep the words from tumbling over one another, but I can’t, and I can’t unsay what I did.
Miguel raises his hand.
I at last stop talking.
They do the managerial mind meld again while I watch them. It’s uncanny. Except even they look like they’re at a loss for words. Lily’s eyebrows have shot up as she leans back abruptly in her chair.
For his part, Miguel’s unflappable, which is probably why he’s a director. Calm is his superpower.
“You’ve done excellent work throughout your time here, Dylan. Lily and I have been very pleased with how you’ve taken leadership in your role and have also instructed Will in museum practices, despite that not being in your job description. Your flexibility is commendable as you’ve shown Will the curatorial ropes. We have been very happy with your performance.”
I slump in my seat, quiet.
“That’s why this doesn’t make sense,” I insist. My heart’s somewhere where my stomach should be. “We’ve worked together on everything. There’s no difference in our work, not really. And on that day, we did everything together. And we were together the whole time with the exhibits from Vivienne Westwood till we left that day. There’s the transfer receipt, sure, but there’re also the condition reports. Which we’ve both signed. There’s proof we brought the exhibits here.”
“We believe the exhibits arrived on-site, yes.” Miguel adjusts his shirt collar. “There’re no signs that the collection didn’t arrive safely at the museum. It’s everything after that is of concern. We even have the security camera footage of you both bringing in the collections from that day.”
Holy shit. I didn’t even think of cameras within the museum. Fuck. Do they have one in the prep room? If they saw Will and me from that one Friday night?—
We’d both have been fired right away.
I cough slightly, my voice wavering ever so slightly. “Is there a camera in the prep room, where we receive exhibits and do our condition reporting?”
