Caught In A Lie

2: Museums and Background Checks

     I stayed at the inn for the next few days. The strange experience with Mikhael had shaken me up. I attributed the attraction I felt for him to hormones. I had never had much exposure to people other than sales clerks in shops. That was why I read a lot. Books gave me some idea how to handle myself. Nick had taught me how to fend off unwanted attention. But my social skills needed practice.

    It took me about a week to finish all the books I had brought with me. I’d already read most of them and it didn’t take long for the rest. 

     I was getting restless and I knew it. I had to go out soon, or claustrophobia would take over. I was already feeling boxed in. Push yourself, see how long you can stand it, Nick would say. The only way to conquer your weaknesses is to face them.

     But… Nick’s not here now. The rebel in me said.

     No, I can’t…

     Why not? I make the rules now…

     But what would Nick think?

     NICK’S NOT HERE!

     For the sake of his memory, then.

     Nick’s dead and not coming back. You need to stop playing by his rules. It’s your life.

     The ‘Nick’s girl’ part of me fell silent, while the rebel rejoiced at the thought of freedom. To make your own choices, eat what you want, do what you want to do, see what you want to see. Unexpectedly, Mikhael’s face swam into my mind. Spend time with whoever you want to. It’s a wide world out there, you know, she told me. And you’re a big girl.

     NO.

     I cut short my inner monologue and went to get dressed. Talking to yourself is a dead giveaway that you need more people around.

         ***

     “This particular piece is one of the most beautiful cups we have from the Mycenaean era…” A nearby tour guide was saying.

     I tuned her out and examined the detailing on a jar. The figures seemed graceful even in their fighting stances.

     “So we meet again.”

    I started, even though I wasn’t too surprised. “Mr. Aur- Mikhael.” I corrected myself at the last moment and smiled.

     His lips curved slightly. “Ms. Ewen. How have you been this past week?”

     He remembered. Now why did that make me want to grin like an idiot?

     “Fine, thank you. And you?”

     “Quite well.” He was silent for some time, observing the pot.

     “Enjoying a day at the museum?” I asked finally.

     “You could say that. My uncle is in the administration. I’m his assistant, and I fill in for him every now and then, occasionally even show guests some of our finer collections.”

     What were the odds? One in a million? Maybe even three?

     “Oh.” I noticed he was wearing a well-tailored suit. Dark brown, with an off-white shirt. No tie; and he didn’t seem to need one either. The very way he carried himself spoke of good breeding. “Off-time?”

     “You could say that. I just saw one of our benefactors out. And then I saw you on the way back to my office.”

     “Oh.” I repeated, moving on to the next display.