work—she’d written more successful grant proposals than any other staff member in years—but academically she couldn’t compete with the other employees of the Institute. In the current climate there were Ph. D.’s working as exhibit technicians; her measly B.A. shouldn’t even get her in the door. When she’d announced her engagement everyone assumed she’d be leaving so her position could be filled by a real anthropologist. Honestly, she almost had. A shiver ran through her at the thought. Thankfully she’d been unwilling to take that last step, or now she’d be alone and unemployed. With all that confusing the issue, the last thing she wanted was for her mentor to think she wasn’t taking her work seriously enough.
Apparently, that wasn’t the problem.
“Such modesty!” Andrew’s expression cleared and he turned a paternal smile on her, beaming with pride. “The Genovese Collection, of course!” When no one responded he continued. “I know. I know. It isn’t as significant as the Guarnacci collection, but then nothing truly is, is it? And it isn’t entirely Etruscan, either, so we won’t be able to display everything in an appropriately developmental chronology, but some of the pieces have never been exhibited. Never! Those items are probably worthy of an exhibit of their own. And then there are the bronzes! And two cinerary urns! For you to have been able to convince Mr. Genovese to allow the items to be studied and displayed… well, it’s remarkable! Truly remarkable!” The little man positively bubbled with enthusiasm and Mina returned his smile weakly.
The Genovese Collection ? Ivy’s eyes were huge as she mouthed the words and Mina shook her head dumbly. This must be some kind of terrible joke.
“I don’t know what to say.” At least that was the absolute truth. Someone had put her in a terrible position and she had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who it was. The question was why . “Marco and I,” she stopped herself when Ivy’s eyes got even bigger. “ Mr. Genovese and I haven’t exactly discussed any details. I never expected him to contact you,” she swallowed, her mouth dry, “directly.”
You never expected to hear from him at all, you mean. Mina tried to ignore the little voice in her head without success. This is what you get for messing around with a man like Marco Genovese.
She had known better from the beginning, she just hadn’t wanted to accept the truth. Again. She was so stupid about men. She should never have gone home with him. The only place she could expect in Marco Genovese’s life was a temporary position as bed warmer. When dawn came and the alcohol had worn off it was obvious, so, she pretended to be asleep, and when he left for his morning run, she ran too. As far and as fast as she could.
Coward. The little voice in her head refused to shut up.
Yes, I’m a coward but that’s not the point! Mina viciously stomped on the voice in her head. The point is Marco Genovese should be more honorable than this. Dragging her boss into things—endangering what little career she had left—it was unconscionable. Why, this was just bullying! The next time she saw him she’d tell him exactly …
“I’m surprised to hear that, Miss Hemingway.” A dangerous voice cut through the chatter in her head and sent a chill down her spine. “I thought when I spoke to you Friday I made it very clear that we’d address these things… again… later.”
Again… later… the words sent a frisson of excitement through Mina’s body as she remembered the last time she’d heard them. Her eyes flew to the door, praying she was wrong, but, no. The world was still out to get her. There, lounging against the doorframe like he owned the place, stood Marco Genovese. His presence dominated the small space and Mina could feel her pulse speed up in response to his
Apparently, that wasn’t the problem.
“Such modesty!” Andrew’s expression cleared and he turned a paternal smile on her, beaming with pride. “The Genovese Collection, of course!” When no one responded he continued. “I know. I know. It isn’t as significant as the Guarnacci collection, but then nothing truly is, is it? And it isn’t entirely Etruscan, either, so we won’t be able to display everything in an appropriately developmental chronology, but some of the pieces have never been exhibited. Never! Those items are probably worthy of an exhibit of their own. And then there are the bronzes! And two cinerary urns! For you to have been able to convince Mr. Genovese to allow the items to be studied and displayed… well, it’s remarkable! Truly remarkable!” The little man positively bubbled with enthusiasm and Mina returned his smile weakly.
The Genovese Collection ? Ivy’s eyes were huge as she mouthed the words and Mina shook her head dumbly. This must be some kind of terrible joke.
“I don’t know what to say.” At least that was the absolute truth. Someone had put her in a terrible position and she had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who it was. The question was why . “Marco and I,” she stopped herself when Ivy’s eyes got even bigger. “ Mr. Genovese and I haven’t exactly discussed any details. I never expected him to contact you,” she swallowed, her mouth dry, “directly.”
You never expected to hear from him at all, you mean. Mina tried to ignore the little voice in her head without success. This is what you get for messing around with a man like Marco Genovese.
She had known better from the beginning, she just hadn’t wanted to accept the truth. Again. She was so stupid about men. She should never have gone home with him. The only place she could expect in Marco Genovese’s life was a temporary position as bed warmer. When dawn came and the alcohol had worn off it was obvious, so, she pretended to be asleep, and when he left for his morning run, she ran too. As far and as fast as she could.
Coward. The little voice in her head refused to shut up.
Yes, I’m a coward but that’s not the point! Mina viciously stomped on the voice in her head. The point is Marco Genovese should be more honorable than this. Dragging her boss into things—endangering what little career she had left—it was unconscionable. Why, this was just bullying! The next time she saw him she’d tell him exactly …
“I’m surprised to hear that, Miss Hemingway.” A dangerous voice cut through the chatter in her head and sent a chill down her spine. “I thought when I spoke to you Friday I made it very clear that we’d address these things… again… later.”
Again… later… the words sent a frisson of excitement through Mina’s body as she remembered the last time she’d heard them. Her eyes flew to the door, praying she was wrong, but, no. The world was still out to get her. There, lounging against the doorframe like he owned the place, stood Marco Genovese. His presence dominated the small space and Mina could feel her pulse speed up in response to his
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