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“But they pose an uncertain risk to you.”
There he went again, saying romantic lines in complete earnest and making me feel a bit off-balance.
He hadn’t even been here for a day.
“The only risk that will come to me is from fighting you for daring to destroy these,” I muttered, letting go of his hand. “This is your work. How could you destroy it as if it were nothing?”
“You—”
“Regardless of whatever risks it could bring me, aren’t you attached to them?” An artist’s work was like a child, the fact that he could nonchalantly rip them to shreds, even if it were for me, was odd.
“How can I be attached to what I do not remember?” he reminded me. “I’m sure I would not have painted it if it was not important to me, but again, I do not know the connection, and in the meantime, you may be affected by this.”
I was already affected by it. But before I could tell him, I heard voices coming from the top of the stairs. And not just any voices but that of Dr. Lovell and Simone.
“Help me,” I said to him, glancing around the lab at the paintings, and I grabbed one of the white sheets. As he brought the paintings together, taking the other end, we draped and covered them quickly.
“Druella, I’m back. How far have you gotten?” Dr. Lovell questioned as he came into the lab, his arms filled with papers, and his bag was slipping off his shoulder. But he didn’t care. His eyes were on the paintings like he was making sure they were still there. I didn’t think he even noticed Theseus.
“Who is this? How did he get down here?” Simone snapped, now zeroing in on him. Her hazel eyes narrowed, and her arms crossed over her chest as she stared at me like she was the Queen of Africa. Her brown hair stopped at her shoulders. Like me, she usually kept it up, but now that she didn’t need to work in the lab she wasn’t. Nor did she have on our normal lab coat but a fitted pink dress and red bottom tan-colored heels. “You know th
e rules, Druella. It is strictly forbidden for you to bring any friends here. I’m your boss now, too; I can’t let this slide—”
“I beg your pardon, Ms. Ward,” Theseus said, and I wondered how he knew her name but then realized her id badge was hanging around her neck. “I’m Christian de Apollo. My family owns this collection. Apparently, some private work was sent by accident, and I was sent to pick it up.”
But Dr. Lovell and Simone stared at him. Dr. Lovell seemed to just realize Theseus was in his lab without permission. While Simone looked miffed, it was like a robot trying to reprogram themselves to blend in. Her whole demeanor changed, and she unfolded her arms, coming down the stairs.
“Mr. de Apollo,” she said carefully with a softer tone and smile on her face. “Forgive me. I was not aware you were so close by. We’ve been trying to get information on the artwork for hours now, isn’t that right, Druella?”
I smiled back. “I personally haven’t, but I heard you were searching, yes.”
Her jaw clenched ever so slightly, but she focused on Theseus…or Christian. “Mr. de Apollo, forgive me, but I was under the impression that this work was sent by a man named Theseus? There was a note with it.”
“My brother,” he lied.
“Would you happen to have any identification or something I could use to verify your information?” she asked, still in a trained, polite manner, and at that moment, I panicked, turning to look at him; but he was beyond calm and nodded, reaching into his pocket for a…sticky note!
“Here you are,” he said, handing it to her. “As you can see, this is all the identification you will need.”
Was he insane? It wasn’t identification. It was a sticky note, the sticky note I had given him with the directions on how to use my phone. I took a step forward but caught his warning glance.
Helpless, I watched as Simone stared at the yellow square in her hand, and then Dr. Lovell, too, and he nodded like he was reading a sixteenth-century, neo-classical art dissertation and not my morning scribble.
“Wow, you have even more?” he questioned, looking back at Theseus who just nodded.
“Thank you, Mr. de Apollo. You must understand our discretion,” Simone said, handing him back the sticky note, and at this point, I was just lost.
“Of course,” he replied, taking the note back.
“Are these the paintings you have come to retrieve?” Dr. Lovell questioned, placing his papers down on the desk and turning his frantic hand over to the canvas being covered with the white sheet. His curiosity got the best of him.
“Yes,” Theseus said, stepping into Dr. Lovell’s path. The difference between them was like David and Goliath. He towered over Dr. Lovell. “The painting is of a personal nature, and my family member does not wish to display it. It seems I was not in my right frame of mind as I shipped it. But you all are, per the contract, free to display and restore anything else as you see fit.”
“Oh, this is marvelous,” he said excitedly as he moved toward his desk, shuffling papers across it. “I have so many questions. Did your family keep records of purchases? Artist names perhaps or even dates or locations will do.”
“I will do the best I can, though I am not sure if there were records kept about them,” he lied once more, and I noticed, only then the strange look Simone gave him as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle displaced on his face but couldn’t. He must have noticed, but he ignored her and instead walked over to where Dr. Lovell stood, looking over the man’s shoulders to see his work.
“Simone?” I whispered, getting her attention, and her gaze snapped to me like she came out of a trance. “Are you all right?”
