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Lana frowned, her dubious expression the same one Beth had seen many times over the years, since they’d been playmates fighting over crayons or dolls. “Right. Now tell me the truth. All of it.”
Beth blew her cousin a raspberry.
“Where do you want me to start? The part where I broke my heel on the way in and was bailed up by the boss? Or the part where I got lost traipsing around that monstrosity? Or the part where I befriended this lovely volunteer in desperate need of a fashion makeover and took her shopping?”
Lana’s loud groan had nothing to do with her ankle. “Tell me I still have a job.”
“You still have a job,” Beth replied, parrot-fashion. “As for your credibility as a curator, that’s highly debatable.”
Lana smacked her head. “Tell me why I let you convince me you needed this job. And why I put in a good word for you. Atmyplace of employment. Where I’ve finally secured my dream job.”
Beth blew her a kiss. “Because you love me. Because this affects my dream too. Because you know I can do it.”
And she would, despite the few hiccups on her first day. Besides, it hadn’t been too bad and surely everyone went through teething problems with a new job?
Lana sighed and sank back against the cushions propping her up on the couch. “I know, I know, but I’m having a coronary over here, worrying about what’s going on over at the museum.” She slapped her injured leg and grimaced. “I hate being this helpless and dependent on other people.”
“You mean me?”
Lana had an independent streak a mile long. Guess it came with the territory of losing both parents early. In a way, her cousin’s tragedy had bonded them in a way nothing else could’ve. Considering Beth had lost her mom in the same car accident, the two of them had clung to each other, a pair of devastated six year olds with their worlds turned upside down. And hers had never righted.
“I know you’re doing your best.” Lana’s grim expression implied her best wasn’t good enough. “It’s just that I don’t think I can last three months sitting around here doing nothing but paperwork.”
“You don’t exactly have a choice.”
A bit like herself, actually. She owed Lana, and if her cousin had asked her to walk on water she would’ve. Doing the physical side of Lana’s job for a few months was small payback for everything her cousin had done for her. Not to mention the added bonus that she really needed this job.
Her muse had gone AWOL along with her latest boyfriend, taking her chance of having a display in his gallery along with him. Though she should be grateful. The rat’s actions had prompted her to finally follow her dream and lease her own space. If the powers that be at the stuffy bank ever let her sign the paperwork, that is.
“Good point. So tell me about the boss. What’s Abe Voss’s son like? I’ve heard on the grapevine he’s a gun.”
Son of a gun, more like it,Beth thought, remembering those slate grey eyes and their calculating expression as they sized her up.
“He’s quite impressive.”
An unexpected quiver of excitement skittered down her spine as she contemplated exactly how impressive Aidan Voss was.
“His credentials, you mean?”
“I mean the whole package.”
Oops. Beth mentally slapped herself for putting together ‘impressive’ and ‘package’ in her imaginative mind.
A furrow appeared on her cousin’s brow. “I don’t like that gleam in your eye.”
“What gleam?”
Beth tried her best innocent look and knew it came up lacking when Lana groaned and shook her head.
“The gleam you get whenever any male under thirty-five and halfway good looking enters your sphere.”
Tilting her nose in the air like she didn’t give a damn, Beth said, “I have no idea of his age. From how tense he appears, he’s probably ancient.”
“And the good-looking part?”
Trust Lana not to back down. Damn it, she was like a dog with the proverbial bone. Or in this case, the curator with a dinosaur bone.
“He’s not bad for an uptight older dude who likes fossicking for boring old artefacts.”
