Sip Happens: A Novella by Irene Bahrd

Author:Irene Bahrd [Bahrd, Irene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-29T00:00:00+00:00

8

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I have no business being here in California for the next few days. Meeting Elizabeth, I expected a stuffy curator’s assistant, not the gorgeous prey I’m now completely infatuated with. I never stay the night, never meet the parents… Yet, here I am doing both. I want more with her, even though we’ve only just met.

Leaving her this morning hurt more than I ever thought it would, and I’ve spent the day talking myself out of visiting the museum just to see her. There’s no way I could tell Jack about the real reason why I’m staying. He would understand if it was a random lass, but with her working on his next project, he’d tell me to let her go.

I can’t.

I won’t.

After hours of trying to keep myself busy at the hotel, I finally take a taxi to the museum. Elizabeth is off work in an hour, and to say I’m excited to see her would be the understatement of the century. She’s the sort of woman I would want to settle down with one day—adventurous, feisty, and tastes like heaven on earth. I know we’ve only just met, but I enjoy the fantasy of keeping her when my brother’s project is complete.

I check in at the front desk and am handed a visitor badge that will grant me access to the offices. Before seeing her, I follow the signs to the current exhibition featuring the collection I dropped off on my last trip, pleased to find the new items on display. Pride blooms in my chest at the memory of finding these pieces and having them here for the world to see.

“Dr. Jackson,” my little doe purrs behind me.

I don’t turn. “Miss Alexander.” A small tag at the bottom of the display lists her as the curator of the collection, and I’m unable to hide my smile. “You did a beautiful job.”

Elizabeth stands beside me, adjusts her glasses, and points to one of the smaller, more intricate pendants. “This one is my favourite.”

“That one came from a small jewellery box I found near Swarthmore Castle,” I offer.

She hums in acknowledgment, then asks, “Isn’t that the castle we’re supposed to be preparing?”

“Aye. Barty has been researching the Black family for years, chasing down lost art. There’s a chance this belonged to the family.”

“You never told me why you call Jack ‘Barty,’” she laughs.

“My brother’s the third generation of Bartholomew Jacksons, so he goes by Jack. I’ve always called him Barty because he fucking hates it.”

“I call my sister Harry, but only when I’m mad at her and want to get under her skin.” I reach for her hand, but she pulls away. “Not here.”

“Why not?” While I understand her apprehension to a point, there’s no chance she could lose her job for being seen with me.

“I’m the youngest woman on staff,” she explains. “Even if it wasn’t frowned upon, I want to be Director one day. If I get it, I can’t have anyone thinking I got the position by sleeping with donors.

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