Mayhem in May Read online

  "I have... I'm sorry. What?" I blinked, utterly stunned. Did I hear him right? I didn't get the job?

  "You were an excellent applicant and I'm sure the new Manager will be very interested in all your creative ideas for forthcoming exhibitions."

  "The new Manager?" Nausea overwhelmed me, fast and unpleasant. I glanced around the table but no one met my eyes. Even George tried to avoid my gaze. He gulped again and when he looked up, his face was stony. I glanced around the room. Caroline stared at the table as did several other board members. Declan Sommersby was smiling. That was odd. What did Declan have to smile about? As Lance's uncle, he must have received some flak about his nephew's brusque manner.

  George cleared his throat and said, "The board has voted to hire Lance Fleming as Calendar Museum's new Manager. He came up with a range of valuable initiatives including a membership program with benefits. His appointment will officially be announced at the opening of tonight's exhibition."

  Chapter Two

  I staggered into my office, shut the door and leaned against it. I could hardly believe what I just heard. My job, the job that was virtually promised to me, had been given to Lance! Egotistical, smarmy, jerk Lance! I blinked back hot, embarrassed, angry tears, before they spilled down my cheeks. I could hardly glimpse the detail of my office. How on earth did Lance convince the board that he was manager material? And those smart initiatives that apparently landed him my job? Not one of them was originally his!

  Confused thoughts whirled in my head. Nothing made sense. How could this happen?

  Did Artie know?

  Just before I charged into his office at the end of the hallway to demand an answer, I remembered Artie went out for the afternoon and wasn't due back until the exhibition opened. Damn! The exhibition! Guests would start arriving at six. If it weren’t for them, and the fact that it was my exhibition, I might have pulled off my heels, slipped into my flats, grabbed my purse and walked out for the rest of the day. It wouldn't have been professional to walk out of my place of employment but perfectly understandable. Lance Fleming as my boss? Unthinkable!

  I would have to resign!

  My shoulders slumped and I rested against the door. What would I do if I resigned? I needed this job. I had a mortgage and two daughters to support. Plus, after majoring in history at college and only ever working in museums, this was the only job I was qualified for. There weren't any other museums around. If I quit, I might have to leave Calendar and I couldn't do that. I arrived here as an excited newlywed with two baby girls. Even though I was now divorced, and had been for years, I made a life here. The girls loved their school and their friends.

  I would have to work for Lance!

  Just as the awful, demoralizing thought hit me like a cannonball to the stomach, my desk phone rang. I plodded over and saw the button flashing, telling me it was the front desk. "Hello?" I answered.

  "So?" squeaked Karen. "Tell me the good news. I mean, obviously, I know the good news but I want to hear it straight from you!"

  "I... um..." I stammered as I hung my head, unable to enunciate the awful words.

  "Of course you're speechless! It's too exciting! Anyway, I will congratulate you properly when it's public news. Until then, the first guests have arrived early and are gathering in the foyer. Artie isn't back yet. Are you coming down to greet them?"

  I sucked in a breath. I needed to pull myself together if I intended to schmooze the museum's guests. "I'll be right there," I told her. "Keep everyone gathered to build the suspense and when the foyer starts to fill up, I'll open the library doors so they can circulate until we're ready for the big reveal."

  "Gotcha," agreed Karen.

  Now that I had something to distract me from the horrible news, I set about doing what I had to do. I gathered my personal items to put in my purse, ready to retrieve later. I called the girls and told them their dinner was in the crockpot I left to heat earlier. Then, I closed the blinds and shimmied out of my suit into the smart, black cocktail dress I rolled out for several functions. Knee-length with a scoop neck in satin and a draped waist, it was expensive but worth it. Fortunately, my heels complemented it and a rush of renewed annoyance washed over me. I was glad I hadn't sprung for a new dress. All I needed to do was run my fingers through my hair to boost the curls, add another layer of mascara, and a sheen of red lipstick. Thank goodness I hadn't cried and ruined my makeup!

  Lance's office was the smallest on our floor. I couldn't help banging my fist on his door as I went past. Taking a cue from his book, I opened it without bothering to wait and stepped inside. As usual, his desk was neat, no evidence of any work having been done. Some framed photos sat on the shelving. Lance at graduation with two people I guessed were his parents. Lance shaking someone's hand, both smiling at the camera. Lance shaking someone else's hand. Lance and his buddies in sports coats and beige slacks, holding up a trophy. A stack of mail in a tray included subscriptions to several journals and… was that envelope addressed to me? I snatched it off his desk and pulled out the letter. So that’s what happened to the reply I expected from a local resident about possibly featuring her large collection of vintage china in a forthcoming display of pottery! I'd written her off as not interested but apparently, she was. I wondered when Lance intended to tell me, or if he planned to finish the deal himself, claiming it his success?

  Without Lance in his office to vent my anger, my fury ebbed just a tiny bit. I would have taken so much pleasure in telling him exactly what I thought of him right now, even if it were unprofessional. Unfortunately, that would have to wait.

  Heading downstairs, I carefully avoided Karen -- I couldn't trust myself not to cry if I had to explain to her what just happened -- and instead circulated amongst the arriving guests. I began making small talk and keeping one eye out for Artie and Lance as the foyer began to fill. I had to find out if Artie knew beforehand and if he did, why didn't he tell me?

  When more than thirty guests began to crowd the foyer, and the noise level rose, I opened the doors to the library and loudly invited them to take a complimentary drink organized by the museum's volunteers on big, linen-covered trestle tables beneath the overhanging mezzanine. Piped music flowed from our stereo system, the classical piano only adding to the elegant ambiance. I shook people’s hands as they passed me and greeted the ones I hadn't yet made small talk with. For a little while, my anger dissipated with the distraction.

  "Tess?" Karen sidled past a pair of ladies in their sixties, both chattering animatedly. I stepped back and smiled.

  "Yes?"

  "Someone to speak to you," she said, nodding towards the man hovering by the reception desk. He looked about my height in heels, which put him around five-feet-ten and had hair so dark, it was almost black. A couple days of stubble covered his jaw in a tidy-but-sexy way and he wore a gray suit with a white shirt open at the neck, smart but relaxed.

  "Who is he?" I asked.

  "Ethan Ray. He says he's the architect for the new wing."

  "Oh, yes. Artie was very impressed with his designs. I forgot we invited him."

  "It must be all the excitement about the promotion." Karen grinned as she popped her shoulders up and nudged me.

  "Hmm. About that..." I stammered, wishing I didn't have to break the bad news. I was sure she would take my lack of promotion a lot better than the news that Lance was about to become her boss as well as mine.

  "No large bags in the museum!" she interrupted, waving to a couple with a suitcase. "Let me help you put that in the cloakroom!" Before I could say anything further, she rushed off to help the pair.

  I nodded to the last set of people passing me as they entered the library and walked over to Ethan. He looked up, watching me as I approached and a little shiver of who-knew-what passed down my spine. What was wrong with me?

  "You must be Tess," said Ethan, holding out a hand and giving mine a firm shake.

  "That's right. I'm glad you could come tonight and I'm sorry I missed your presentati
on. I thought you might like to see the museum in action before you finish drawing up the plans."

  "Very much," he agreed. "I'll get a better idea of the scale you need for foot traffic and flow, and how much space you require for exhibits and elbow room for people pausing to take a look. That's not easy to calculate when I'm just staring at my drawing board."

  "I'll walk you through," I offered, although I wasn't being entirely altruistic. I could do with a break from the crowd before someone inadvertently congratulated, or commiserated, with me. "I know you've already seen the outbuildings we're converting but they're off limits to the public currently."

  "Not a problem. I want to keep the designs as reflective of the museum as possible, although there are limitations. The outbuildings aren't nearly as grand as here." He pointed towards the ornate Victorian crown molding and the elegant wainscoting.

  "Even the chandeliers are original. The family who bequeathed it to the town insisted that everything in the main house remain preserved for future generations," I explained. "We're fortunate the beautiful features weren't stripped and sold off."

  "You've done a great job of preserving it so far."

  "Thank you but the praise isn't for me. Our manager, Artie, is the one to thank. He's been custodian for three decades." I paused as Ethan whistled. "Have you designed a museum wing before?" I asked.

  "No, but my firm developed a lot of commercial properties including galleries so I have some familiarity with the requirements. I'm very excited to take on this project. It's a dream for me."

  "I'm glad you feel that way," I said, warming to him. He was friendly and interested, his eyes taking in every feature I pointed out. I had a feeling he was a man in his element inside older buildings. "I expect we'll see plenty of you over the next few weeks?"

  "I hope so," he said, smiling now. As I smiled back, I noticed his eyes sparkled. He must really like the museum! And, it surprised me to think, he was very easy on the eyes too. I had no doubt Karen and the other employees would soon be gossiping about our handsome new colleague. "Wine?" he asked, indicating the tables.

  Just as I was about to say yes, I caught sight of Lance walking along the upper gallery. So that's where the little snake was hiding! Of course it all made sense now. He knew all along that he had the job and his pretense at appearing congratulatory in my office was just that: a pretense. In reality, he came to gloat, secure in the knowledge I was still unaware of. I wouldn't have been at all surprised if he'd gone into hiding the moment I went into the boardroom and remained hidden until the guests began to arrive, just to avoid any confrontation with me. I savored the small, unusual, dig of pleasure that he might be scared of me.

  "Please excuse me. I have to go see a colleague," I said apologetically. I would much rather have stayed to talk with Ethan. "Please help yourself and I'll come find you later for that tour."

  "Nice to meet you, Tess, and I look forward to it."

  I edged my way through the new arrivals entering the library, plastering a smile on my face and greeting everyone before I could dart to the side and unhook the velvet "Employees Only" rope that cut off access to the mezzanine floor. I followed the oak staircase up and stepped onto the mezzanine. This room was the original family's library and hundreds of their old books still stuffed the bookcases. Now it operated as the main entry into the museum since the room also had doorways leading into other rooms, making it possible to manage the flow of visitors. For private events, like tonight, it doubled as a lovely welcoming room. The mezzanine had been off limits for a few years since we discovered some issues with the balustrade. It wasn't likely to collapse any moment but the board worried about someone falling through or over it accidentally, which was understandable. However, it made a great shortcut for employees who were aware of the risks, as the doorway at one end opened onto the second floor.

  Lance paused by the door at the far end, and half-turned away from me. I hurried along, sure he was about to disappear through the doorway and lose himself in the upper level. There he could easily slip into any number of rooms or even jog to the main staircase and descend, leading me on a goose chase I didn't want to participate in. Thankfully, he didn't do that. Instead, he dropped to his knees, traced his finger across several of the books and pulled a slim volume out. As I watched, he tucked it inside his jacket.

  "Lance!" I called.

  He shot upright, a rush of color rising to his cheeks. "Tess. Come to congratulate me?" he asked, pushing his shoulders back and puffing out his chest like a peacock about to display its feathers.

  I forgot all about the book in his jacket. "Congratulate you? You stole my job!" I hissed.

  "Your job?" he scoffed. "Oh, you mean, the Manager job? I think you'll find it's my job now."

  "You don't deserve it!"

  "The board disagrees. They were very pleased with my ideas and vision for the museum."

  "Your ideas? Not one of those ideas was yours. You stole most of them from me!"

  "Sour grapes, Tess?" Lance shook his head slowly, clicking his tongue. He didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed.

  "Do you really think you can run a museum by stealing someone else's ideas? C'mon, Lance! That's not vision. That's stealing intellectual property."

  "I think you'll find that any idea you come up with relating to the museum, belongs to the museum. It's probably clearly stated in your contract," he sniffed haughtily.

  "That is not the point and you know it!" I heard my voice rising as he antagonized me.

  "We're going to announce it tonight, you know. A bit of applause for Artie and a retirement gift with a big bow on it, then the announcement for me. I know you'll join the applause." I scoffed, lost for words as Lance continued, "And if you don't like it, Tess, you know where the door is." He nodded towards the library doors but I knew what he meant.

  "Are you threatening me?" My jaw dropped.

  "It's not a threat. It's a promise. If you're going to cause trouble, I'll fire you. I can do that as Manager. I don't even have to check with the board."

  "I'd sooner resign!"

  "Go ahead. I can get a replacement for you within the week. Probably much cheaper too."

  "You wouldn't dare!"

  Lance's mouth curled into a nasty smile. "Wouldn't I? You've just claimed I'm stealing your ideas. Who do you think will believe you? You're just a spiteful, little troublemaker, jealous because you weren't good enough for the job and I am! The truth is, there are going to be some big changes around here! I plan to drag this museum into this century and big changes must be made. You can work for me, and I might even look at one or two of your ideas, or you can get out. You could even save us all the bother of firing you on my first day by resigning."

  "I'd sooner kill you than work for you a single day!" I yelled. Below me, someone gasped. I turned my head slowly and awkwardly as I realized no music was being piped through the stereo and the chatter below had ceased. As I looked down at the beautiful room, concerned and shocked eyes looked back up at me.

  I had no idea how much of our spat was overheard but I knew any word from my last shouted objection was one too many.

  Chapter Three

  By the time I turned back from their appalled stares, Lance was gone, leaving me alone on the mezzanine. I searched out Karen's eyes and indicated for her to do something. She nodded quickly and waved to the volunteers to start serving, then she turned to the stereo, and began fiddling with it. As I hurried off the mezzanine, following Lance, the music sounded again. Unfortunately, it was a few minutes too late to disguise our voices.

  My face was hot and my eyes prickled with embarrassed tears. I wondered if Lance knew we were being observed. His voice remained quiet and steady while mine rose with emotion as he goaded me. I must look crazy to our guests! If I hadn't been so upset, I might have realized the background noise had disappeared.

  On the landing, I leaned against the wall, mercifully out of sight, and dropped my face into my hands. Tonight was suppos
ed to be a crucial evening, both for our donors and supporters, along with the formal introduction of the new exhibition ahead of the opening. Not to mention celebrating Artie! Now this evening would be remembered for all the wrong reasons!

  Lance must have already made his way downstairs. Who knew what lies he would spread to the guests? He probably already worked out his version of our argument: I was jealous of his success and causing trouble. Of course, he had no choice but to let me go, he would tell them. At first, I wanted to rush downstairs and conduct damage control. Then I wanted to grab my jacket and purse from my office and head home, maybe even console my sorrows with a pint of ice cream if there was any left over after the girls attacked it in my absence. Yet, I knew I couldn't leave. I was still Deputy Manager, and if nothing else, I really did want to see Artie celebrated for his loyal years of service to the museum. I had to swallow my pride and stay, no matter how hard it was. I was a professional. Although, right now, professional idiot seemed more appropriate. I could kick myself for falling into Lance's very public trap.

  My mind made up, I raised my head, straightened against the wall and practiced a power pose, one my elder daughter showed me. "I am strong," I told the empty hallway. "I am brave. I can do this." I pulled in a breath, counted, and exhaled on a count. Then I repeated the process a few more times until I felt calm. With one last breath, that came out more as a sigh, I headed for the staircase, arriving in the lobby a moment later. Karen waited anxiously for me. "I thought you'd come down this way," she said, hurrying to my side. "Is it true? Lance got the promotion to Manager?"

  I nodded. "Yes."

  "That's unbelievable!" she gasped. "I don't know what the board were thinking! Why, only a few days ago Caroline Marsh said she thought it would be a unanimous vote for you!"