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Cassie froze on the stairs leading up to the museum’s entrance. She turned her back to the wind and tucked one hand into her jacket pocket. “What do you mean there’s been an issue?”
“It hasn’t left Savannah.”
Cassie didn’t know how to process the information. Her entire job down here was straightforward. Fly to New Orleans. Supervise the NOMA staff as they offloaded the truck full of eighteenth-century furniture. Offer her expertise on how to exhibit and catalog the pieces. Eat an entire pint of ice cream while watching the Food Channel in her hotel room. Return home.
“How is that possible?”
“I put the wrong date down on the paperwork.” Magdalena rushed on, breathless. “I thought I scheduled it to move out at nine this morning, but it’s actually tomorrow. But don’t worry! I’ve already talked to the hotel and extended your stay another night. You won’t have any issues with your room.”
“That’s a relief.” A small one, but it released a little tension between her shoulder blades. Cassie looked at the front entrance, where a guard watched a small family file through the door. “Do the staff already know? I’ve practically got one foot inside the museum.”
“Called them myself to apologize. Make your introductions, then take the rest of the day.” Magdalena’s voice brightened, but it sounded practiced. “Who knows, maybe this is a blessing in disguise. You could do worse than an extra night in New Orleans.”
Cassie frowned. She didn’t know what her friend was up to, but she knew better than to trust the woman didn’t have backup plans for her backup plans. There was no way she got the date wrong for Cassie’s trip. “Mags, what’s really going on?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” The smile was still in her voice. “But I’ve got to go. Busy day today. Eat something yummy for me. Have fun!”
The line went dead before Cassie could say another word.
Magdalena’s intentions were always noble, but that didn’t mean Cassie was in the mood for one of her schemes. The last few days had been hell, and Cassie wanted to do her job and eat her ice cream and forget about the real world for a few hours. But she reminded herself, Magdalena didn’t know David had died, or that Cassie was barely keeping her head above water. She just thought she was doing her friend a favor.
Cassie squared her shoulders and finished her ascent of the stairs. She nodded a hello to the guard, who gestured for her to pass through the door and into one of the most breathtaking foyers she’d ever seen. Everything from the floor to the walls to the columnar supports was a brilliant white. Green garland laced through the bannisters, and a simple red rug led straight to the bottom of an elegant staircase.
For a moment, she forgot her frustration with Magdalena and simply stared in wonder.
As another family bustled through the door with two small children, Cassie beelined for the visitor’s desk, where a young woman had a phone cradled to her ear. Her fingers flew over the keys as she nodded along to whatever the person on the other end of the line was telling her. A smile never left her face.
After a moment, the woman hung up and turned her attention to Cassie. Her hair, cut in a sharp bob, was jet-black against her tawny skin. Her eyes, just as dark as her hair, were wide and excited, and she wore bright pink lipstick that looked a shade too modern for the exquisite museum. “How can I help you?”
“My name is Cassie Quinn, and I’m here to—”
“Oh!” The woman’s eyes grew wider, and her hair swished as she bounced in her chair. “Hello! We’ve been waiting for you. My name is Julie Tanaka, but you can call me Jules. Let me call my co-worker, and I’ll get you set up.”
Before Cassie knew it, someone had replaced Jules at the front desk, and the young woman was leading Cassie through a door to the back. Few people ever saw this side of a museum, which was a shame. It was where the real mysteries were held and where the real magic happened.
“Was your flight okay? Any trouble?”
“No, everything went smoothly.”
“Good, good.” Jules’ twang was subtle, but it deepened when she got excited. Which seemed to be about every other sentence. “Magdalena told us you’d probably show up a day early, and I was hoping I’d be here to show you around.”
“A day early?” Cassie furrowed her brow. “She said the truck was delayed.”
Jules shrugged. “The truck was due to be here tomorrow, but that’s okay. It gives you more time to explore the museum and meet everyone.”
Cassie tried not to grimace. She didn’t mind meeting new people but being the center of attention was never fun. Then she reminded herself that she had at least one thing in common with everyone who worked at the NOMA—they all loved
art.
Still, too many names and faces for her to remember filled the next hour, and certainly too many fake smiles. Jules never lost an ounce of her spark, and even seemed to gain energy the more she paraded Cassie around.
“This is my office.” Jules opened the door wide and let Cassie poke her head in. All the furniture was sleek and modern, either black or white. In fact, the only color came from the paintings hanging on each wall. One featured a silhouette of the Eiffel Tower set against a green, teal, and purple sunset.
“This is gorgeous.” Cassie stepped closer, admiring the texture of the brushstrokes. “Who did this?”
“Oh.” Jules cleared her throat, and when Cassie looked over, she was blushing. “I did.”
Cassie looked around the room at the other paintings, each featuring a different landmark in silhouette against an explosion of colors. Each monument was recognizable and yet otherworldly. Red grass. A yellow ocean. Trees painted all the colors of the rainbow. “They’re fantastic, Jules.” She looked over at the woman and shook her head in disbelief. “Really. They’re beautiful.”
