Page 4

CHAPTER 4

Max

I sling my heavy school bag over my shoulder and high step it toward the entrance to the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County. The iconic building that houses many of humanity’s treasures stands tall and regal against the clear darkening skies. The stone pillars and detailed Beaux-Arts Neoclassical, Romanesque architecture are both impressive and timeless. The building itself is considered a piece of art worthy of the many accolades it has received over the century since it was constructed. There isn’t anything quite like stepping through the doors to this magnificent building that soothes my soul—helps me forget about the crazy shit going on outside.

There isn’t a set time I need to be at work tonight as I normally don’t work overnight unless there’s a new exhibit coming to town. Tonight, it just so happens to be the new King Tutankhamun Exhibition. A year ago, the Cairo Museum had agreed to loan the antiquities to a select few established and vetted museums around the world. LACNHM had been fourth on the list and proud of it. In fact, the museum had put so much money into the advertising, everything had to be perfect, or heads would roll.

As I approach the stone stairway leading to the entrance, I see Bob Garman, a short, bald, heavy-set man in his early sixties. The man is the head of security and a total asshole. I check the time on my watch and breathe a sigh of relief. I have three minutes left before Bob locks up for the evening. As long as I’m there before that, I won’t have to wait for Bob to come unlock the door. When that happens, it always ends with me catching a bunch of shit for getting to the museum after hours and making more work for the lazy head security guard.

I take two steps at a time. “Bob,” I say with as much civility as I can muster. “Nice to see you this evening.”

“Sure.” Bob opens the door and lets me pass. He then follows me inside and slams the door shut, locking it manually before setting the alarm with the electronic keypad near the door. “Some guy came by looking for you today.”

“Really?” Who could that be?

“Yeah,” Bob says and starts walking away.

“Are you going to tell me his name?” God, this guy is such a jerk.

“I didn’t ask for his name. Whatever salacious thing you’re into is none of my business. Just don’t rub it in my face.”

Ah, this is a gay thing. I’ve always known Bob disliked me from the beginning because I’m gay, but I’d hoped to never have to confront him on it. “Dude, I can assure you whoever came to see me has nothing to do with my personal life.” I don’t even have a personal life, not that I wouldn’t love one… maybe Ben would be someone worth my time and effort?

“Sure, whatever you say.” Bob rolls his eyes.

“Did the guy leave a message for me? Give any indication as to who he was?”

“One of your many escapades, I’m sure. But like I said, it’s not my job to keep track of your shit.” Bob walks away and takes out his radio and says, “Bernice, where the hell are you? Over.” His radio crackles to life, but Bernice’s response is inaudible at that distance. I shake my head and sigh. Bernice Bartlett is a lovely woman with a heart of gold and the patience of a saint. How she puts up with that man is beyond me.

For all I know, Bob could be completely making it up to get my goat. He’s been known to harass other employees in the past, but after his last warning from Catherine Nakamura, the chief curator at the museum, he has been keeping much more to himself.

I shrug it off and put it out of my mind. I have to be sharp for the delivery coming up tonight. If anything gets damaged or lost in transit it could be my head. With very little pull and an even smaller title behind my name, it would be really easy to get fired and black-balled from the industry.

Hurrying across the wide main entrance, I push through the door to the back labyrinth of hallways and elevators that go down to underground laboratories but never go above the first floor. It’s a whole other part of the museum I’d never known existed until I started working here.

Before meeting up with my mentor, Doctor Paul Austin, I need to ditch the bag and grab my white lab coat from my employee locker. One of these days when promoted past junior curator, I’ll have an office of my own where I won’t have to worry about finding a safe space for my belongings.

At the end of the hallway, I use an electronic keycard to enter the men’s locker room. The room isn’t well lit but has multiple rows of lockers and benches. I open my locker, shove my bag inside, and then remove the lab coat. As I close the door and turn the combination dial to secure it, I hear a crash come from inside the shower room.

I run into the shower and slide to a stop. Lying on the floor is a naked man, legs in the air. His jiggly bits flop about at will. “Are you okay?” I turn off the shower and offer a hand to help the man stand.

“I… think so,” he says, rubbing the back of his head, still covered with shampoo. He pulls hard on my proffered hand and stands up in front of me. His thick shoulders, trim waist, large… hands. My mouth waters as I tear my gaze from his nakedness.

“Here.” I hand him a towel.

The man takes it and clears away the suds from his face rather than wrapping it around his waist. Well, shit if he doesn’t mind me looking, why should I? “Who would have thought the damn floor would be so slick?”

Wanting to step closer and cradle the man’s head in my hands, I force myself to stay put. “Is that a Texas accent I’m hearing?”

“Yes, sir.” He offers his hand to shake. “The name’s Bretton Wolf.”

“Max Salgado.” We shake hands, Bretton’s slick with soap, but his grip strong and eager.

Bretton looks down at his waist with a smirk and then slowly wraps himself in the towel. I notice he’s wearing a wedding ring. All the cute ones are married these days.

“Not used to meeting people lying on my back naked.” Bretton’s face turns red, and we both laugh.

“Yeah, me neither.” I feel myself blush too.

“I’d better get back to it.” Bretton gestures to the shower head.

I step back, a piece of me wishing to be invited to stay. “For sure. It was great meeting you.” I turn to walk away but stop and look back. “I’m the junior curator here, by the way.”

“Curator, huh? I wouldn’t have expected one of the bigwigs to be here this late.”

I harrumph. Big wig? Yeah right. “I’m assisting Dr. Austin with a delivery coming in from Chicago tonight. ”

“Makes sense. I don’t actually work here, but The Field Museum asked for me to come and assist Dr. Austin with his research.” He turns the water back on but doesn’t step into the stream. “Delay after delay at the airports turned my quick flight into an all-day affair. Once I got here, my rental car got a flat tire, and I had to change it. Needless to say, my clothes and I were a wreck by the time I got here. Or I wouldn’t be using the museum showers.” He chuckles, still blushing a bit.

“I didn’t realize Dr. Austin was going to need more than me assisting with the exhibition.” I feel hurt at the thought I’m not enough for the job. I’ve been in on multiple exhibitions, each time the assistant to the assistant. Basically, I’m the gofer and I’ve grown tired of it.

“Oh, right,” Bretton says. “From what I’ve been told, he needed an Egyptologist to help with some cartouche translations. I guess this museum is going to highlight some alternative ideas as to who King Tut really was, or something like that.”

I smile. “You’re an Egyptologist? That is so cool. I would love to hear about the pyramids from someone with firsthand knowledge of them. And you read hieroglyphs? Now, that’s badass.”

Bretton smiles and looks away, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. Oh geez, I’m fan-boying all over him and he isn’t even wearing pants . I clear my throat. “Well, I’d better let you get back at it.”

“It was a real pleasure to meet you, Max?” Bretton clarifies my name as he slips off his towel and hangs it on the wall behind the shower spigot.

I pull my obvious stare from between his legs to his eyes and nod, trying desperately not to look back down at Bretton’s well-groomed, thick cock. This is work, not the gym after all. “Yeah, for sure. I’ll see you in the lab later after the exhibit gets delivered. ”

“See you around, Max.” Bretton smiles, making eye contact before he turns to face the wall and wash the soap from his hair. Had he given me the signal? I laugh to myself. I’ve never been good at figuring out if people are interested in me. Probably explains why I’m still single; that and I have trouble trusting anyone.

I reach for the door but look back and catch a glimpse of Bretton’s toned backside—the hot water trailing over his muscular frame. Steam rising from his skin, filling the room around him. Don’t go there, Max . I tear my gaze away and leave the room. The cool, dry air of the locker room chills my skin and causes me to shiver. I check the time on my watch. Dr. Austin wouldn’t be thrilled at how long he’s already waited, so I’d better get going.

I snatch my white lab coat from the bench and make for the exit. The lab is located three floors underground, only accessible by credentialed staff via the employee elevator. It takes less than a minute for me to arrive at a set of double doors. I swipe my keycard. The light changes to green with a beep. I pull the door open and hurry down the hallway to the elevator.

Again, I swipe my keycard, and the doors open. Once inside, I enter my badge number and hit the third button down. I tap my foot as I wait. The doors start to close when Bob peers out from the double doors at the end of the hallway. I stick my foot out to stop them from closing.

“Bob, you okay?”

Bob waves me away, dismissing my inquiry.

“Want me to hold the elevator?”

“If I wanted you to hold it, I would have asked you to.”

“Suit yourself,” I say and let the doors close. What a douchebag. I look up and smile into the camera embedded in the ceiling tile. I’ve met the security guards, decent guys, but definitely not someone I would have hired to keep the world’s greatest treasures safe from possible theft and damage. Although it takes a special kind of person to work for and tolerate Bob.

What the hell is Bob doing? Weirdo . I shrug. Turn off your cop-brain and enjoy this moment. It’s not every day a junior curator gets asked to help with groundbreaking research, or at least that’s how the lead curator, Catherine Nakamura, presented it to me when she asked me to come in and work overnight. Not that I would ever consider saying no to the opportunity, but no one says no to Dr. Nakamura. That woman has her finger on the pulse of the worldwide museum community.

The elevator car stops, and the door slides open. I hurry into the brightly lit laboratory entrance. Through the glass door ahead, Dr. Austin stands hunched over a back-lit examination table.

“Good evening, Doctor,” I say after stepping inside. I wait a second and then move a few feet closer but hang back enough not to startle him.

Dr. Austin says nothing but keeps peering through a large magnifier attached to the table with a long flexible arm. I stand on my tiptoes trying to see what he has on the table. The room is filled with these large examination tables. It’s where artifacts are taken and with the greatest of care– examined, catalogued, and researched in an attempt to garner something new from them. To learn more about not only the item itself, but about the world that existed when it was made, used, or discarded. After a few moments of silence, Dr. Austin straightens up and turns.

“Come over here.” He waves me over to him. “Look through here and tell me what you see.”

I hurry over and clear my throat. I know this little test is important to our working relationship moving forward. Pushing back my mounting nerves, I adjust the magnifier and look through it.

“Bone,” I say. “Definitely non-human.”

“Be more specific if you can, Doctor.”

I retrieve the pair of latex gloves sitting on the table and don them. Without taking my eyes off the specimen, I pick up the bone and turn it over in my hand. “Felidae, Smilodon… metatarsal.”

“What else can you tell me?”

“Taking into account the discoloration—” I pull the magnifier closer to my face, “—Saber-toothed cat. I’d date it between fifteen and twenty thousand years old.”

“Showboating is not something to be admired, Doctor Salgado.” Hearing him refer to me as a doctor sends giddy little grin to my face I want to hide. Being a PhD has always been something I felt was out of reach for me, but here I am. Doctor Salgado.

I meet Dr. Austin’s gaze. “I would never presume to showboat. I based my findings on the examination. There are minute bits of asphalt seeping from the porous bone… it was no doubt unearthed nearby at the worksite for the future Los Angeles Subway System. As for the age—” I shrug. “I was providing an educated hypothesis to be proven true or false by a simple radiocarbon dating test. I believe we have access to an Accelerator Mass Spectrometer here at the museum?”

Dr. Austin raises an eyebrow, but the half-smile betrays his bemusement. He nods. “Fair enough.”

I take a step back from the table. “I wanted to thank you, Doctor Austin. I know you took a chance on me… being a junior curator and all that.”

“You’ve already proven yourself worthy of my time and attention. We have all started off our careers in the junior position. I find that in many ways, it’s those who still feel they have much to learn that perform the best and work the hardest. ”

“I will definitely do that, sir.”

“Great.” He checks his watch. “Shall we welcome the exhibit?”

I smile. “Most definitely, Doctor.”

“Great, let’s get going.” Dr. Austin turns on his heel and marches out of the lab toward the elevators.

I can’t unscrew my smile if I tried. I hurry to catch up, and then we walk together to the elevator. Paul pushes the button and crosses his arms. “Damn thing takes forever.” He taps his toe in annoyance.

“It is rather slow.” Tearing my gaze away from my mentor’s shoes and up to the numbers as they scroll by impossibly slow, I hope we get to the floor we need soon.

“From what I understand, the Chicago Field Museum sent an expert to help us with some research.” He reaches for the button and pushes it another five times with a huff.

Silently praying the doctor’s impatience doesn’t cause the elevator to stop altogether, trapping us inside this ever-shrinking box, I say, “I believe I met him this evening. Originally from Texas, but an expert in Ancient Linguistics.”

“A hick from what I understand.” The disgust in Paul’s voice surprises me.

Bretton didn’t seem like a hick to me, but I’d better play this right if I want to stay on the doctor’s good side.

“So, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting him?” The door finally slides open, and we work our way down the hallway toward the back entrance where we will receive the delivery.

Leaving out the part where he was lying on the floor completely nude in the shower, I nod. “Briefly.”

“Keep him out of my way, would you, Salgado? Other than when we need him, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Good. Now let’s receive this treasure trove of history.” He checks his watch again. “They should be pulling up within the hour.”

We reach the shipping and receiving dock. Austin types in his security code and pushes the large door open wide.

“Watch what you’re fucking doing!” Bob yells as he dodges the door.

I put my hand to my mouth and look from Bob to Dr. Austin. The two men are having a silent standoff. Dr. Paul Austin is one step down from Dr. Nakamura here at the museum. If Bob doesn’t back down, he can kiss his career goodbye.

Bob puts his hands on his hips and doesn’t look away.

“My apologies,” Austin says. “Oh, look.” He points to the delivery truck approaching.

Bob walks away with a silent glare exchanged between them. What the hell was that all about, and why did Dr. Austin not verbally kick his ass? I watch as Bob reaches the far corner of the building where he turns around and stares for an uncomfortably long time. I look away as the truck backs in and stops. The little hairs on the back of my neck tingle. I turn to see if Bob is still there, but he’s gone.

“Salgado, pull the truck ramp out and secure it to the landing.”

I do as I’m told, but I can’t shake my unease. After a quick glance over my shoulder, I shrug and get to work.