My attempt at being tactful failed miserably, but he’s been here for nearly two weeks now, and I was expecting him to realise for himself that casual clothes are encouraged and much more fitting for a fairytale museum, but he hasn’t, so it was time to say something.
‘Do you have any other complaints about my conduct, dress sense, or otherwise?’
‘Yes, I do, actually.’ I see an opportunity to bring up something else that’s bothered me this week. ‘Can you please not ignore customers if they speak to you? I know engaging isn’t your strong point, but ignoring people is really rude. I felt so sorry for that little girl yesterday afternoon. Kids don’t understand that not all adults are open to talking to them.’
His face screws up in confusion. ‘What?’
‘Yesterday in the Princess Suite. You were standing there, analysing something or other on your Tablet of Gloom, and that little girl started babbling at you. You glanced down and then point-blank ignored her, until her mum gave you a death glare and moved her away. For as long as you’re here, you’re a member ofmystaff and I will not have anyone treating customers like that. Even if you didn’t know what to say, you could have at least acknowledged her.’
I didn’t have an opportunity to bring it up last night, but now I’m glad to get it off my chest. It bothered me, and it was quite surprising after how unexpectedly nice he was to the boy with the enchanted rose. I assumed he was out of his depth and didn’t know what to say to an excitable little girl, but I can’t have him skulking around, looking like he works here, and then point-blank ignoring any customer who asks him a question.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t ignore anyone.’ He snaps the words out and folds his arms defensively, but his face has gone volcanically red, and I canseehis cheeks prickling with heat.
‘I literally watched you. You need to be more mindful in future, okay?’
He pushes out a long breath and closes his eyes like he’s trying to remember yesterday afternoon and then he shakes his head. ‘It was busy… Noisy… I didn’t… I couldn’t…’
He trails off and looks momentarily flustered, but then, in an instant, his body language becomes closed off and it’s like he shuts down. ‘No one talked to me. If you’re making that up as a way of saying I’m spending too much time down here, just say that. I’d go back to the office if you had one I could use undisturbed. That’s always my choice – undisturbed.’
He grabs his water bottle and stomps back up the stairs, leaving me listening to his irate footsteps across the upper floor, and wondering what button I just unintentionally pushed to get a reaction like that, especially as he seems to have been enjoying getting to know the museum lately, and I haven’t been entirely opposed to having someone to share each working day with. That was a strange reaction. I got a sense of panic rather than anger or taking offence, and although I know he appreciates directness, I wonder if that was a bittoodirect and I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s yet another insight into something much deeper going on with him. There’s more to that man than meets the eye, I’m sure of it.
7
‘You should know that this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done in my life!’
‘Oh, really, I would never have guessed.’ I huff under the weight of the pumpkin carriage, which Warren and I are in the process of rescuing from the riverbank, after it’s gone off on a jolly all by itself.
I got in early this morning, hoping to make it before Warren, but annoyingly he was ahead of me and I caught up to him walking down the road from the car park. When we arrived, there was no sign of forced entry and nothing was out of the ordinary, until I did my usual pre-opening checks and discovered that Cinderella’s life-size pumpkin carriage was missing.
Before we could call the police to report it stolen, Sadie phoned to say that she and Witt could see a pumpkin carriage down by the river.
‘No wonder the Fairy Godmother turned lizards into horses to pull this thing!’ Warren pants through gritted teeth.
‘Mice. She turned lizards into footmen and mice into horses.’
I’d been wondering if Warren’s early arrival this morning was a cover and I’d accidentally caught him on the way back from dumping it by the river, but I’d forgotten how heavy it is.
This is, at best, a two-person job, and even with the two of us, we’re struggling. If I’d caught him in the act, even if he is hiding super-size muscles under those sharp suits, he’d have been sweaty and dishevelled and out of breath.
As sweaty and dishevelled and out of breath as he is now, actually.
‘All right, let’s take a break,’ I say because he lookshot. In both the sweaty sense and the not totally unattractive sense. It’s hard to deny how good-looking he is, even if Iwantto, because I’m fairly sure I shouldn’t be seeing a property developer who’s considering demolishing my museum in that way. Piercingly light-blue eyes, dark stubble tinged with the tiniest hint of grey, wide-set features, and dark bouncy-looking hair that would defy gravity if it wasn’t swept backwards and tamed with product.
We’ve taken a shortcut around the side of the castle and now we’ve reached the edge of Ever After Street and the birch trees give us some shade from the blazing mid-autumn sun before we have to tackle getting the pumpkin carriage up the steps to the museum.
Warren leans against a tree, bending over with his hands on his knees, panting for breath. ‘I always enjoy an opportunity to showcase how unfit I am.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that…’ I clear my throat and tear my eyes away from the way his chest is heaving. ‘I mean, yes, me too, obviously. I don’t have time for… fitness things.’
‘Same. I sit at a desk all day and…’ As he looks up, the wind blows and a snowstorm of yellowing birch leaves float down around us, making him laugh and bat them away from his face. ‘…hadn’t realised how long it’s been since I’ve been outside in nature or doneanythingthat didn’t involve staring at a screen.’
It doesn’t sound like the way he intended to end that sentence, and it’s something I can’t imagine ever finding any joy in. The creative side of the museum is what I love. The fact that it’s varied, that you never know who’s going to turn up next or what you’re going to be faced with on any given day.
He hasn’t mentioned our discussion of his clothing choices again since the other day, but he’s ditched the tie and the suit jacket, and now he’s wearing perfectly pressed suit trousers and a long-sleeve office-type shirt with a button open at the collar, and when we got to the riverbank, he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, putting his forearms onfulldisplay.
And heisknackered. He’s leaning against the tree and we’re both still breathing hard and sweat is glistening on his neck. I thought he was responsible for taking the glass shoes and starting up the spinning wheel the other day, but this is something different.
‘Did you really not do this?’ I didn’t intend to let him in on my train of thought, but I blurt it out anyway.
