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Hannah pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “I thought the ball was supposed to be on our side.”
“It’s on no one’s side,” Piper says. “It is a random probability of answers. It is just as likely to give a yes answer as a no or a maybe one.”
Hannah shoots her a glare. “Well, I feel like going out anyway. Who’s with me?”
Belle and Charlie voice their agreement, but Piper declines, stating she has a ton of work to do for her company. She’s the one who really should be going out. In fact, I haven’t heard her talk about Ian for a while. I wonder briefly if something happened between them, but that is not my problem for tonight. A feeling of relief floods through me as the other girls get ready. Once they leave, perhaps I’ll get that quiet night after all.
* * *
The next morning, I stop at a coffee shop on the way to work. I have no idea what kind of coffee Derek drinks, so I take my chances with a straight black coffee.
“Will there be anything else?” the woman behind the counter, a perky blonde with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, asks as she hands me the cup. The name on her little white tag is Pepper, and I can’t help but smile a little as I wonder if she gets called Peppy Pepper.
I bite the inside of my lip to keep from giggling - I don’t want her to think I’m laughing at her. Then, I shift my eyes to the baked goods. “Yes, what is the safest muffin you have?”
Her smile slips as confusion etches lines on her perfectly heart-shaped face. “Safest?”
“Yeah, like the least likely to send someone into allergic shock.”
“I don’t think any of our muffins do that,” she says with a slow shake of her head.
I am clearly not getting my point across very well. “Look, it’s a muffin for a very structured guy who just found out he has a citrus allergy. It’s an apology for sending him to the ER yesterday.”
She looks at me as if I’ve grown a third eye, but I can’t blame her. I’m not articulating as well as I would like. “I guess our bran muffin would be the best bet. I don’t think it has anything other than gluten in it that someone could be allergic to. Is he allergic to gluten?”
“I honestly have no idea, but I’ll try the bran muffin.”
With a look of relief, she puts it in a bag and takes my money. I grab a few packs of sugar in case Derek likes them in his coffee and continue on to work.
“Good morning,” I say as I approach his desk. “I come bearing gifts. A peace offering if you will.”
He glances up at me and his lips lift the tiniest fraction. “It’s nothing citrus, is it?”
“Ha-ha, you’re funny.” I pull a chair over to sit on the opposite side of his desk. “No, it is coffee - black for you and white chocolate mocha for me. I did grab you some sugars in case you use them.”
“I don’t.” He grabs the coffee. “I do add milk on occasion but only when I can control the amount.” Figures.
“And a bran muffin. The plainest one I could find.” I pull it out and hand it to him.
“Thank you.” He takes it but doesn’t open it. Instead, he pulls open a drawer and drops it inside. “I’ve already had breakfast, but I’ll save it for later. Are you ready for today?”
“The adventure of the Museum of Art? Yeah, I’m psyched.” I can’t keep the sarcasm from my voice because I honestly can’t think of anything more boring, but after yesterday, I’ll put on my excited face for Derek and pretend. “Have you thought of something they can do for the scavenger hunt while there?” I hope he has because I certainly have no idea.
“I have. There are many wonderful exhibits that we could spotlight and encourage them to take a picture with. We could leave a clue each month like information about the artist of that month or an exhibit. That way, patrons absorb magnificent art as well as interact with the app. Plus, I’m hopeful the museum will offer a discount like Pauline did.”
“Well, okay, then, let’s go.” He makes it sound a tiny bit more interesting, but I still have the feeling this is going to be a boring day for me. I don’t even ask to drive. It is clear that not only does he have control issues, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t trust me behind the wheel. I don’t mind though.
The Museum of Art is a large building near the waterfront. While I will admit it has some cool glass sculptures outside, I’ve never been inside. Walking around and looking at paintings sounds about as fun as watching paint dry to me, but this is a partnership and I will go along. At least until the next activity and then I’m asking the eight ball about the escape room.
As we step inside the museum, it feels like the noise has been sucked out like a vacuum. It’s not silent, but there is a definite change from the noise outside to the hushed stillness inside. Even footsteps on the marble floor seem quieter here.
“Where would you like to start?” Derek asks, and this time the smile on his face is noticeable as is the light in his eyes. It’s almost worth being here just to see the change on his face.
He looks like a kid in a candy store, while I probably look like a kid who wishes they were in a candy store but their mother has told them for the hundredth time how much candy will rot their teeth, so I defer to him once again. “I have no idea where we should start, so I’ll leave that up to you.”
“Hmm. This way then.”
I am relieved that he appears to be heading toward the more traditional art and away from the abstract art. With landscapes and people, I can at least appreciate the talent, but with abstract? I feel like it’s something I could have done as a child. Or something I could do now with my eyes closed.
