Good morning friends and readers! Today I have a special post for you- the third episode of my new Story Orgy story! Just one more "catch up" post this week, and I'll be on track next Monday. Now that we've met both Izzy and Owen, it's time to meet the professor.
Mum's the Word
Chapter Three
Aug 17: The setting sun was blood red.
When Dr. Gamez advised students from this office, the first thing visitors saw as they walked through the door was a full wall mural of a blood red setting sun behind a giant red-gold pyramid. Some previous lover, some art student decades earlier, had painted the dazzling artwork. Ernesto kept the mural after the art student wandered off never to be heard from again because he liked the way it looked behind his mahogany desk in photos.
Izzy stumbled to a halt a foot inside the doorway, jaw hanging open like a fourteen year old at at One Direction concert. For a moment, despite the sexy accent that had intrigued him, all he could take in was the absence of that mural and its vibrant colors. The new occupant had painted the office a pristine, sterling white.
It was a declaration of change.
Of…
Conformity.
That expanse of white was somehow offensive and creepy. As though Ernesto Gamez had been wiped instantly from existence by the obliteration of the mural. For the first time Izzy felt like a creep for even trying to keep this job after Ernesto’s resignation. Maybe he was more like his father than he thought.
“Ahem.”
The discreet cough came at the same time as Owen’s sharp elbow jab and Izzy jerked his gaze from the wall to the man at the desk. Forcing his jaw shut, he took a minute to survey their new boss. Generations of archaeology students had grown up with images of a whip wielding Harrison Ford as their idol. Certainly he had. This man… Micahn Gregoire according to his name plate, took whip wielding to an all new level.
He was dark, swarthy, lean and firm, handsome features. Probably at least twenty years older than Izzy if the crows feet at the corners of his eyes were anything to judge by. Those crows feet owed nothing to humor- not if the foreboding expression in the dark depths of his eyes was perpetual. He looked like danger. A dark shadow of man, like one of those vampires in an old fashioned movie that exuded sex appeal and used his powers of mersmerization to compel people to do his bidding. He was definitely not easy going and jovial Professor Gamez.
And despite this… Gregoire had a dark appeal that made Izzy nervous in a way he hadn’t been since he was a teenager. “I’m Izzy,” he announced, blatantly staring. Ernesto had been a well educated man with brilliant theories, but he hadn’t spent a lot of time in the field. He preferred classrooms. This man… it was hard to imagine him standing in front of a whiteboard lecturing.
“Good morning Professor.” Owen jabbed him sharply again, and Izzy winced. “We’re pleased to meet you.”
The dark gaze transferred from Izzy to Owen, and Izzy released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. It at least explained the ache in his chest that he’d begun to feel. Striving to regain his composure, he watched the two quietly.
“You are highly recommended by the staff.”
Oh God… that accent… It was as intriguing as he’d thought. A shiver threatened but Izzy bit his lip and braced his knees.
“We’ve been here for a while now. Professor Ernesto was our advisor. We were looking forward to working for him.” Owen didn’t appear intimidated by the man, but Izzy had caught something… derogatory in the way he said highly recommended that made him think Gregoire wasn’t so impressed by their credentials.
Owen it seemed wasn’t as impressed by Gregoire’s dark gaze and sneer. Good. Life was always better when they weren’t interested in the same men. Interested? In your boss? Grow up.
“I am keeping you on because I have an urgent project that needs to be completed before the annual alumni ball after homecoming. If your work is up to par, then you can consider yourselves employed for the year.”
Right. Boss. Don’t forget that. This guy held their future in his hands. He willed away the tingle of arousal, but couldn’t fight the awkward awareness. At least awareness wasn’t visible. No one could see the prickle of hair on his nape or the rush of blood in his veins or hear the hum.
“We were hired to be TA’s. Teach freshman level courses, grade papers, and work on our dissertations. Maybe do some field work with the professor.” Owen squared his
“That is still possible. You’ll have ample time for your dissertations, but as for teaching and grading, we shall see. This special project takes precedence.”
“So what’s this project?” Izzy forestalled the challenge he could practically see Owen was about to make.
“The museum. The board of directors wants to re-open it. The exhibits are date and old. There are dozens of rooms full of donated material that need to be cataloged and the displays updated.”
“They want us to create museum displays?” Now Owen sounded excited. Izzy got that too. After field work, actually digging in the earth and uncovering artifacts, creating ways for other people to share in discoveries was a glamorous aspect of archaeology.
It was almost as good as authoring a paper or discovering a missing link.
“They want me to create displays, yes. Given the time restraints, that means you’ll be assisting.”
“When do we start?” Izzy finally found his ability to speak.
“Be at the back entrance to the museum dressed to work, not to teach.” He gave each of them a faintly derisive glance, as though he himself weren’t standing there in a thousand dollar suit. “At seven-thirty tomorrow morning.”
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