Full Boar

Chapter 6: Leslie

Adrianna was halfway through sorting her emails when her phone rang.

It was a right mess they were in. Two of her assistants had promised opposite things for one of their suppliers, and Adrianna had spent the better part of an hour piecing together what each of her two assistants had promised and assured the other museum. Part of her wanted to bash their heads on their desks, just so they remembered for next time.

She stopped typing. She wouldn't do that, she'd never raise her hand against her coworkers, yet now she found herself actively imagining, nay, fantasizing about taking a handful of Dr. Kimber's hair in her hand and—

What was wrong with her?

The violent fantasies abruptly ended when the phone on her desk blared its obnoxious ring. Adrianna stared at the phone, which rang again in case she didn't hear. She snatched it up. "What?" Adrianna snapped, before regretting that tone. "Forgive me, I was in the middle of something stressful."

"Doctor Marcionne," the tinny voice on the other end of the line said, "your niece arrived. She's at the front desk and needs you to sign her in." Adrianna blinked. Niece? She didn't have a niece.

"Um, I'll... I'll be right down." She frowned. What was going on here? Adrianna sent off her email with a few clicks and rose.

She passed by Dr. Kimber in the hallway, the older woman engrossed in some spreadsheet she had printed out. "No, no, ugh," the woman muttered, her red pen scarring the spreadsheet in her hand. Rumors swirled about Dr. Kimber, all orbiting the mysterious period before the Franklin Institute hired her, when she had taught at some private university. Some say that she once failed a student for not showing up for a remedial test when the elevators were down, never bothering to notice that the student was wheelchair-bound. Others say she once sent the dean's email to her warning of her... hostile behavior back to him, covered in red pen, with a large "F" on the front. Either way, Adrianna made sure to stay out of her way, a difficult task seeing as Adrianna was the head of this exhibit and Dr. Kimber was her assistant.

But as Adrianna passed Dr. Kimber, she breathed a sigh of relief; that sudden urge to flatten Dr. Kimber's face into her desk didn't rear its ugly head in her psyche.

She left the office and walked down the large stairs towards the front desk. The echoes of her footsteps faded into the murmur of the crowd below; the lines were long today, which meant a good bit of revenue from the ticket office.

Mark sat at the desk, a bored expression on his face, regarding Adrianna with a gaze of nigh-contempt. That had bothered Adrianna at first, but she soon learned Mark did that to everyone, and ignored him.

It was the figure next to Mark that bothered her. She was young, a college student at most, with hair so black it had to be dyed that shade, cut like a helmet, severe at her jaw. She wore a black leather jacket with enough spikes studded into the shoulders to evoke an iron maiden's envy, and her square purse had been studded with more of the gleaming little points. Dark eyeliner surrounded her dark eyes, and her lips were almost shockingly red.

Her boots thudded against the ground (also spiked) as she tossed the purse aside and rushed to hug Adrianna. "Auntie Adrianna, it's so good to see you!" she said, louder than Adrianna would have liked.

Adrianna opened her mouth, but the girl cut her off. "Oh. Oh crap. Uncle Mason told me he gave you a call. Told me he let you know I was going to show up." Adrianna blinked. "You remember Uncle Mason, right? Big, burly, kinda a bit of a pig?"

"Yeah. I forgot, sorry." She looked to Mark. "She's my niece.

Mark studied the girl's drivers' license. "Miss... Hartman, is it?"