The New Exhibit
Lori rode the express train uptown in silence, studiously looking nowhere and at no one while Skillet blasted through her cheap ear buds. If the volume bothered any of the commuters around her, no one said anything. She didn't really expect anyone to as most people were too busy listening to their own music this early in the morning.
The thought of heading to work today killed the small ray of light that had blossomed inside her upon feeling the fall air when she'd initally left her apartment. All she really wanted to do was spend one of the last few glorious days of fall hanging around Central park, eating a hot dog and maybe catching a good movie at the two dollar (which was now five!) theater.
But rent was due next week and if she missed another day's pay she'd really be screwed. She would have to work every single waking moment if she was going to pay her bills, while hopefully managing to net a few bucks leftover for a book or two from the Strand. It was always a sad day when she couldn't scrounge up enough loose change to buy a used book from the legendary book retailer.
The garbled voice of the conductor interrupted her dismal thoughts, "Next stop...86th street."
She rose along with a significant portion of other commuters as they all made their way to the train doors. She didn't pay much attention to the people around her, much more focused on her upcoming stop. Perhaps if she'd been more attentive she would have noticed a beautiful, well-tailored man standing among the normal throng of commuters. He looked about as out of place as a Botticelli at a swap meet. As it was, she simply waited for the subway doors to open and effectively pushed her way out against the wave of incoming passengers.
Following the crowd, Lori headed for the nearest exit, emerging outside into the light of day. Once again, she was struck by the crisp feel of such a beautiful fall morning. There really wasn't anything like autumn in New York. There was a certain smell to it that she'd adored for as long as she could remember - it was a cross between warm bread, roasting peanuts, autumn leaves on asphalt, and sunshine reflecting off glass. No matter how bad things got for her, days like today seemed to shine just a little bit brighter.
Lori stopped at the first coffee truck she saw parked at the corner and ordered a large black coffee. She took her time as she sipped the strong brew, enjoying a leisurely pace as she made her way down 86th street. However, instead of heading over to 81st street where she worked, she walked three blocks west to Fifth Avenue, then four blocks down until she was in front of her favorite place in the whole city: the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Standing across the street, the stranger from the train observed Lori in silence. A small smile curved his lips as he sent a silent command to the woman who was next on his list.
It was time for a formal introduction.
* * *
Lori craned her neck and looked at the colorful exhibit banners flapping gently in the autumn breeze. It really was a gorgeous day; it would be such a waste to spend it locked up in a penthouse apartment trying to outwit and outlast two bratty kids that were hell-bent on getting rid of her. So what if she was late? It would just mean the kids had more time to set-up whatever disgusting new trap they'd planned on laying out for her. The day before she'd been egged in the private elevator, which was still better than last week when they'd assaulted her with super-soakers filled with bleach.
What could it hurt to take a minute to look around and enjoy the day before it was totally ruined?
She shook her head, attempting to clear those crazy thoughts from her brain. What on earth was she thinking? She couldn't afford to hang around the museum and be late again. Rent. Food. Electricity. Every single one of those things cost money, and the last time she checked none of those bills could be paid with an IOU.
Lori turned to start her trek back east but her feet had other ideas; they took her up the wide stone steps of the MET. This particular museum was one of her favorite places in the whole world. She could spend hours among the works of the masters, making sure to cover every square inch of the multiple wings and featured exhibits, running out to grab a hotdog whenever she got hungry. She loved to spend hours walking through the maze of galleries and period rooms; from the American Wing displaying some of the best American art in the world through the Robert Lehman collection where she was dazzled by the works of Goya, Matisse and Van Gogh. Each work by Titian, Degas, Da Vinci, and Michelangelo were reminders of a better time; a time when her brother had still been alive and part of her life.
Now Lori felt its pull like a siren's song; she felt almost helpless against the urge to head inside and look around.
The woman behind the ticket booth gazed over her black horn-rimmed glasses at Lori, a hawk like expression on her sharp face. She passed the irate looking cashier a ten-dollar bill and flashed her student ID. The woman sniffed but reluctantly gave her the M pin she needed to wear while touring the museum. As was her and Michael's tradition, Lori started from the top floor of the museum and made her way down.
Michael had loved the museum even more than she did. He'd earned his degree in Art History and Appreciation at NYU. Through his school connections he even managed to get an internship at the MET his last year of undergraduate study. She'd been so excited for him. It was almost as good as getting a job there herself. She'd still been in high school at the time, struggling with grades and her own part-time job at a Starbucks, but whenever Lori could pull herself away, she'd made sure to visit her brother at work.
Now as she moved through the familiar rooms, Lori felt the same old comfort and sense of peace settle around her. This was what she knew. Even when everything else seemed to be spiraling out of control, she could come here and feel whole again. Sometimes she'd close her eyes and could almost hear Michael's voice explaining an artist's motivation, or what was happening during the time a piece was created.
It was just before noon when Lori finally reached her favorite part of the museum: the reconstructed Temple of Dendur.
As a girl she loved to sneak into the Temple and pretend she'd really gone back in time to Ancient Egypt. She'd stand inside the large exhibit and fantasize about ancient kings and queens. Even now, years later, she still loved to lose herself in the structure, pretending for a minute she was someone else.
"Magical isn't it?" asked a deep, musical voice beside her.
Lori had been so lost in her own world she never felt the stranger's approach. Startled she turned and practically fell over herself when she saw the tall and totally gorgeous man standing next to her.
He was at least six two, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist perfectly set off in a custom-made Italian suit. His chestnut hair was neatly cropped yet stylishly long in the front, and he had eyes the grey of summer storm clouds. His lips were full and plush and seemed made for long, deep kisses. His nose was sharp and aristocratic, set off by a strong chin and high brow.
He had the most perfect face in the history of the male race but it was so much more than that. There was a wild, almost savage quality that just flowed off his entire being. It made her think of a time when men were built more warrior than Wall Street. Even as he stood there, the very image of upper-crust wealth and sophistication in his silk suit and three hundred dollar haircut, he seemed a blend of old world warrior and modern day elegance.
The effect was devastating.
Unable to form the slightest word of agreement she could only nod her head dumbly.
Great Lori. Way to really show off your grasp of the human language.
He smiled at her. If one could call it that; it was more of a sexy curling of the lips. Lori finally understood why women swooned in old movies. For a second she wondered if her knees were going to give out. The man was gorgeous as sin...temptation incarnate...a walking sex scene.
Get a grip girl!
She was acting completely moronic all because he was the best-looking guy she'd ever seen up close. He was probably some male model, all perfect on the outside with the I.Q. of a doorknob.
He laughed, the sound low and husky. It felt like satin across her skin. She was so not ready for a flirtatious assault of such magnitude.
Lori inhaled sharply, taking in his scent and suddenly the room felt too hot. Her stomach did a nice little swan dive to her Nikes and she could feel her heart rate accelerate into the danger zone. There was no denying the fact that he was absolutely the most stunning man she'd ever seen. Something about him made her want to throw him down to the ground and demand he make wild monkey love to her.
As she stood drooling, Lori slowly registered the fact that he'd asked a question and was expecting some form of coherent answer back.
"Um...what?" Lori asked a little short of breath. When had breathing become so difficult? She'd only been doing it since birth.
"I asked if you agreed?"
"With what?"
"With me," he said, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
Lori didn't get the feeling he was laughing at her as much as enjoying her reaction to him. Perhaps it should've bothered her, but for the life of her she couldn't bring herself to be bothered about anything this man was doing or saying. Then she realized she had no idea what they were talking about.
"About what now?" God, what the hell was wrong with her? All she could do was stand around and ask questions like the town idiot.
"About the temple, Lori."
Through her raging hormones and self flagellation she realized the good-looking stranger had called her by name. "Wait, do I know you? Have we met before?"
There was no way for her to take back the lame come-on that escaped her lips. Groaning inwardly, Lori was horrified to realize it sounded every bit as awful coming from her as it did coming from a married loser at a singles bar.
Please let the floor open up and swallow me whole she wished desperately.
But he only smiled at her again. Lori suppressed the urge to melt into a pool of goo.
"No beauty, I would remember such a pleasure," he answered, flashing her another winning smile.
"Then how did you know my name?" she asked suspiciously, her single-in-the-city-survival instincts rising instantly. No matter how cute this guy was, this was still New York City and psychos came in the hunky variety too.
"I'm psychic."
"Really?"
"No. Your name is stitched on your bag," he pointed out good naturedly.
"Oh," Lori mumbled feeling foolish. Damn the LL Bean catalog! She never could resist personalized lettering when it was on sale.
Giving him a quick once over she noticed the small museum ID he wore. Dr. Desmond Amore. Feeling a little better knowing he actually worked at the museum and wasn't some strange guy that picked up women in front of Egyptian temples she relaxed a bit.
He watched her expectantly, as if waiting for her to say something witty and charming.
"Er...what was the question again?" she asked lamely.
One side of Dr. Amore's lip curled up in a slight smirk. It was like he knew the effect he was having on her and was just asking questions to keep throwing her off. Lori knew she was being paranoid, but she was never this idiotic with men. Not even the super hot variety.
"I asked if you liked the Temple," he repeated his question yet again.
"Oh!" she said a bit loudly, "Yes. It's one of my favorites."
"Ah, of course," he nodded as if he'd already known that would be her answer. Lori figured it was probably one of the more popular exhibits in the whole museum, so that wasn't too surprising.
"So, you work here then Dr. Amore? I mean, I haven't seen you here before. Do you run a new exhibit or something?" she asked, trying her best to show she wasn't a total idiot.
"Yes you could say that," he answered turning his gaze back to the temple. The sun was bright inside the museum as it shone through the glass wall that faced Central Park. It set off the exhibit amazingly well.
Lori found she did better breathing when he wasn't looking directly at her. Taking advantage of the momentary break she inhaled deeply, giving her brain some much needed oxygen.
"Really? Which wing? Or are you in charge of a particular exhibit at the museum?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. She was relieved that her voice sounded close to normal. It helped that she was breathing through her nose instead of through her mouth now.
"Have you had the opportunity to visit the Lover's Archway exhibit?" he asked turning back to face her.
"No, not yet," she admitted. The archway was etched on one of the flags she'd noticed outside. It was hard to miss since it was a deep red banner with the arch depicted in bright gold.
"Well, if you like the Temple Dendur you might enjoy the Archway. It's quite similar in size and can be toured up close," he replied smoothly.
"Is that one of your exhibits then, Dr. Amore?"
"Please call me Desmond." He bowed from the waist. Lori was charmed by the old fashion quality of the gesture. It was refreshing to meet someone with such impeccable manners. Plus he smelled great and he had a job, so far that made him a winner in her book.
"Alright," she smiled, "So, is the Lover's Archway yours, Desmond?"
"Yes." The tone of his voice held a slightly possessive quality to it.
For a moment Lori thought his eyes flashed a deep teal before returning to their normal shade. Shaking her head she asked, "Is it part of the new Legends of Love exhibit? I saw the banner for it hanging outside."
"Yes it is. It's my particular specialty. Well, more like a life's quest really."
"What, love?" she asked, her eyebrows quirking up in interest.
"Yes." He seemed thoughtful for a moment before continuing, "Throughout history that is. Would you care to see the Archway, Lori? I could give you a personal tour." Then, like something out of an old movie he offered her the crook of his arm.
Lori stared at Desmond's arm for a second. She wasn't sure if she should accept or decline his offer. Why was this guy talking to her? People were crazy. He could be a good looking psychopath. Why couldn't she think straight around him? And when did breathing become so damn difficult? But she knew the answers to all those questions already. Never in her life had she met someone so overwhelming, someone who overloaded her senses and made her want to do things she hadn't thought about in years.
And for a split second she had a distinctly clear moment of foreboding. It was like her inner spider-sense was going haywire. Her instincts seemed to be telling her that accepting his invitation could be very dangerous.
Don't do it. You don't know this guy. He's trouble. Danger Will Robinson. Danger!
Then another voice spoke up. One she hadn't heard in a long time - it sounded oddly like the voice of her sixteen year old self.
Lori Elizabeth Mayer! This guy is totally hot and probably loaded by the looks of him! He's probably great in bed too! Don't be such a wuss!
Good God she was tired of being a wuss. Being a wuss is what got her into a relationship with Jerry the Jerk. Taking a quick tour of a new exhibit was hardly a long term commitment or anything. Why shouldn't she spend some time with a hot stranger? Besides, it was the MET. How many psycho killers toured museums for victims? Well, she wasn't going to count that one episode of Law and Order.
Smiling she hooked her arm into his and asked him to lead the way. It wouldn't be long before she realized her spider sense had been totally right.
Her sixteen year old self was still an idiot.
*
*
*
*
A/N: The image is of the reconstructed Temple of Dendur at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City (still one of my favorites!).
Song credit: The Great Escape - Boys Like Girls