Making Mina Strings Attached
Chapter One
“That’s it! I’m going to get a pair of cats, some sensible shoes, and dedicate my life to saving the whales.”
Mina shoved a file across her desk, catching the corner of her out-box. A stack of grant proposals on the corner trembled at the violence of her action. She watched for a breathless moment as it shivered, and when it toppled over to explode in a shower of oversized confetti her shoulders slumped in defeat. It was official. The whole world was out to get her.
“Whales aren’t so bad.” Across the room a dark waterfall of hair parted momentarily to show a bird-bright, black eye and a twist of a smile. “And you already wear sensible shoes.”
Chance brought the women together years ago, but friendship kept them close. They were a strange pair—Mina in her flowing dresses and, yes, sensible shoes, and Ivy Fielding, the museum’s resident goth—but from the start they’d understood each other. When Mina appeared on her doorstep in the early hours of Saturday morning Ivy opened her door with no questions and an unlimited supply of Kleenex and ice cream. Today, though, she was enjoying the third day of an “I-told-you-so” binge and Mina was fed up.
“You’re a fine one to talk. You never wear anything but those Frankenstein boots.” Mina glared at her friend and kneeled gingerly to gather up the scattered papers. “And you already have two cats.” She stifled a groan as she stood. She was sore in places she didn’t even know she had. It had been days since she sneaked away from Marco Genovese, but her body complained often enough that the memory of what caused those aches and pains was never far away. It amazed her, after years where sex never crossed her mind, now she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not that she’d ever admit that to anyone.
Ivy opened her mouth but whatever she intended to say was cut off. Both women jumped as the door slammed open, the tiny space suddenly filled with energy radiating from a wiry whip of a man.
Andrew Peabody was the head of the anthropological collections department at the Oppen Institute. The Oppen wasn’t as large as other collections in the area, but it spanned 500 years and four continents and had earned him a reputation as a skilled conservationist. His love of history and culture was infectious and Mina attributed her fascination with the subjects to her years working with him since she’d earned a position as his intern during her sophomore year. At sixty-five he had the energy of a man half his age, racing off to the far corners of the globe at a moment’s notice, but this was unusual even for him. All five feet and six inches of him practically vibrated with excitement.
“Mina! Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded. His fuzzy eyebrows drew together in a ferocious frown and Mina’s stomach dropped. She shot a quick look at Ivy who shook her head and shrugged. Whatever had him worked up was a mystery to her as well. The only thing Mina could think of was her break up with Ethan, but she never expected this kind of response. True, it had taken Andrew months to forgive her for getting engaged—throwing her career away, he called it—but shouldn’t he be happy she wasn’t getting married? And how could he know already? She expected to have at least a week to work up the nerve to break the news. She really needed his support if she was going to get back into the University’s anthropology program, and she’d put up with any lecture he wanted to give her, but she really hoped he wasn’t here to add another voice to the chorus of “Ethan’s a Jolly Good Bastard” that Ivy’d been singing all weekend.
“Tell you what, Dr. Peabody?” Mina tried to smooth the wrinkles out of the grant applications where she’d clutched them in surprise. She piled them neatly on her desk, erasing any evidence of the earlier chaos. She was proud of her work—she’d written more successful grant proposals than any other staff member in years—but academically she couldn’t compete with the other employees of the Institute. In the current climate there were Ph. D.’s working as exhibit technicians; her measly B.A. shouldn’t even get her in the door. When she’d announced her engagement everyone assumed she’d be leaving so her position could be filled by a real anthropologist. Honestly, she almost had. A shiver ran through her at the thought. Thankfully she’d been unwilling to take that last step, or now she’d be alone and unemployed. With all that confusing the issue, the last thing she wanted was for her mentor to think she wasn’t taking her work seriously enough.
Apparently, that wasn’t the problem.
“Such modesty!” Andrew’s expression cleared and he turned a paternal smile on her, beaming with pride. “The Genovese Collection, of course!” When no one responded he continued. “I know. I know. It isn’t as significant as the Guarnacci collection, but then nothing truly is, is it? And it isn’t entirely Etruscan, either, so we won’t be able to display everything in an appropriately developmental chronology, but some of the pieces have never been exhibited. Never! Those items are probably worthy of an exhibit of their own. And then there are the bronzes! And two cinerary urns! For you to have been able to convince Mr. Genovese to allow the items to be studied and displayed… well, it’s remarkable! Truly remarkable!” The little man positively bubbled with enthusiasm and Mina returned his smile weakly.