Page 16 of A Lullaby for Witches

Augusta was about to respond when Jill’s phone rang. “It’s the repair guy calling back,” Jill said, glancing at the screen. “I have to take this, but you guys can get started without me. Hello?”

She left the two of them, and suddenly Augusta felt awkward in the small office alone with a stranger. But Leo didn’t seem to notice. “Should we go down to the ballroom where we can spread out?”

“Let me just grab my notebook,” she said, grateful for the chance to compose herself. As she followed Leo, she instantly felt like a creep for noticing the way the rolled sleeves of his black button-down showed off lean, muscular arms. She also couldn’t help but feel preemptively guilty about being alone with a good-looking guy, like somehow Chris would find out and grill her on every aspect of their interaction. That was silly, though, she reminded herself. She was an adult and she was doing her job. That was all. She had seen attractive people before; this wasn’t some new phenomenon.Professional, Augusta.You’re a professional. And you’re not single.

The ballroom was in between exhibits at the moment, and Jill and Sharon had been busy pinning up photos, trying out paint swatches and all the other things that went into the planning of an exhibit. It looked like Leo had been helping before he’d come up to meet Augusta, and his laptop was open on the floor, books and binders piled up next to it.

“Hold on,” he said, jumping up and pulling out a folding chair from the corner.

“Thanks.” Augusta perched on the chair while Leo grabbed a stool and pulled it up close enough that she could smell the clean scent of his bodywash.

He looked at her with that disarmingly genuine smile again. “So, how are you liking it at Harlowe so far?”

“I love it,” she said, shifting slightly in her seat, aware of how close they were even in the large room. “Everyone has been so welcoming, and the house is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? The Boston office is nice, but I love the days when I get to come to Harlowe. It’s like stepping back in time.”

Leo was one of those charismatic people who probably made every woman in the world feel like she was theonlywoman in the world when she spoke. His frank gaze never left her face, his head tilted in consideration. Why was Augusta so tongue-tied? She was an adult, aprofessionaladult, but she suddenly felt as if she were an awkward teen again, blushing from the attention of one of the popular guys. “I’m glad to be here,” she said weakly.

“So, what do you have for me?”

“Right,” she said, snapping out of it. “Jill told me that they’re exploring ‘personal adornment.’ I wanted to get a good cross section of what people at Harlowe House would have worn, but also other people in the town who weren’t upper class.” She opened her folder and pulled out the catalog listings for the objects she’d chosen and handed them to Leo.

He leafed through them, nodding occasionally. Then he looked up and flashed her a brilliant, lopsided smile. “These are great, really great. I like that you’ve gone outside of just the obvious stuff like jewelry and accessories.”

She didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until she exhaled. She knew that they wouldn’t necessarily incorporate all her choices, but she was proud of the work and thought she had put into it.

The more her excitement about the exhibit grew, the more relaxed she became. “Jill has mentioned that an Irish maid worked here in the 1870s or 1880s—do you think we could find something of hers? It would be cool if we could have some immigrants represented, too.”

Leo nodded, typing something into his laptop without looking up. “Yeah, definitely. I’m not sure if they have anything that belonged to her—that’s more Jill or Sharon’s wheelhouse, but I like the immigration angle. Definitely worth asking about.”

Augusta scribbled some notes down herself, her mind whirring with ideas. Leo was likewise absorbed in typing, so she took advantage of the moment and let herself finally really study him. His face might have been all softly squared angles and gentle demeanor, but there was a hardness, a guardedness that manifested at the corners of his gray eyes. Was there more to the boy next door than just his good looks and easy manner? Well, even if there was, it certainly wasn’t Augusta’s place to investigate it further.

After a few moments of quietly working, Leo suddenly sat back and raked his hands through his hair. “No, no, no,” he muttered, frantically hammering the keys on his laptop. “Oh, fuck me,” he cursed under his breath.

Augusta swallowed. “Sorry?”

“Shit, sorry,” he said, briefly glancing at her before mashing the keys again. “This computer is the bane of my existence. It just crashed on me and I think I lost all my notes.”

“Can I see it?” Augusta asked before she could stop herself.

He looked dubious, but he stood up and handed her the laptop. “Be my guest.”

Augusta forced it to reboot and got it to start up in safe mode. “Can you type in your password?”

He leaned over her shoulder, so close that his sleeve brushed her arm, sending heat racing through her. She looked away while he typed.

When he was done, she quickly scanned his recent documents. “Your files aren’t lost,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief as if they had been hers. “You just have to go into recovery and save them as new files.”

He was looking at her as if she was Prometheus bringing fire to humanity. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you.”

It was a simple fix and she was surprised he didn’t know how to do it, but was pleased with herself all the same. If nothing else, living with Chris and his brother had taught her more than she ever needed to know about computers.

“It’s really nothing, I can show you what to do if it happens again.” In an effort to stop the blush she could feel blooming on her cheeks, she changed the subject. “So how long have you been working at Harlowe?”

“Let’s see, about four years now. I started in education, but then they merged that with public outreach so I’ve been in this role for the last two years. What about you? Where are you coming from?”

She told him about her last job, and how draining it was to give the same tour day after day. He nodded encouragingly when she told him about her goal of someday becoming head curator of a historic house museum. Leo was easy to talk to, and before she knew it, the light was fading outside the windows.

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