Page 37 of Witches of Dubious Origin
“I don’t think Olive sees it that way.”
His lips curved up. “Perhaps not, but she doesn’t view any of us that way.”
That surprised a huff of amusement out of me.
“Come on.” He patted my arm and stood.
Reluctantly, I followed. I’d sat there for so long my body had gotten stiff and my first few steps were painful as the blood moved back into my limbs.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I fell into step beside him.
“You’ll see.” He headed for the back. It was quiet, as the sounds from the open library below were muffled by the volume of books.
Jasper turned down a narrow passageway and stopped in the corner. The narrow bit of wall that was visible was donein decorative plaster much like the domed ceiling of the upper hallway in the museum above us. The plaster here was shaped to resemble a large pillar with a grapevine twining around it. Jasper stopped in front of it and pressed on one of the grapes. There was a click, and a narrow door swung open and revealed a dimly lit staircase.
I glanced at him in surprise. “Where does it go?”
“Out,” he said. “You didn’t think the main entrance to the BODO is our only way of coming and going, did you?”
“Didn’t really think about it, to be honest.”
Jasper turned sideways to fit his broad shoulders into the narrow passageway. The stairs were steep, almost a vertical climb. I didn’t hesitate as I ducked inside and followed.
My thighs burned from the incline and I recommitted to getting in better shape if I was going to work in this staircase-infested facility. We passed two doors on our ascent, but Jasper didn’t stop until we reached the door at the top. It was plain, with a round brass knob. Jasper turned it and pushed the door open.
Bright sunlight and a cold breeze greeted us. Jasper led the way, stepping outside onto the flat roof of the museum. I gawked. Despite the arrival of autumn, we were standing in what was clearly an immense garden. Most of the raised beds were now barren, but a large greenhouse was on the north side of the roof and I could see that it was full of greenery.
Amid the long raised beds, small café tables and chairs had been scattered, as if inviting visitors to linger. At one of the tables, Miles and Tariq sat with a pot of tea and an empty two-tiered plate between them.
“Glad you could join us, Zoe,” Miles said. He gestured tothe vacant seats at their table in silent invitation. Tariq poured tea into two mugs and pushed them toward us, indicating the little pitcher of milk and the sugar on the table.
“A bit early for tea, isn’t it?” I asked Jasper.
“It’s four o’clock somewhere.” His lips curved up on one side and he winked at me.
We sat down and I gratefully cupped the hot beverage in my hands. A stiff breeze blew across the roof from the reservoir and I shivered. Without saying a word, Jasper shrugged his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders.
“Thank you.” I tried to sound normal, as if hot guys offered me their coats all the time, when I was certain that this had never happened to me—not once—in my thirty-six years of existence. I refused to be weird about it—at least on the outside.
“This is an amazing space,” I said. “It must be beautiful in the spring.”
Tariq beamed. “It was my idea. I take full credit.”
Miles and Jasper sent him amused glances as if they’d heard him say this before.
“What inspired it?” I asked.
“I was homesick.” Tariq’s expression was bleak for just a heartbeat, but then his usual smile appeared, beaming like the sun. “I grew up outside Abuja near Zuma Rock. Nigeria is in a tropical climate, you know, and I missed the vegetation—I use so much of it in my potions—so I asked to put in a greenhouse and Claire agreed.”
“Then other librarians and curators wanted garden beds, and the kitchen staff felt they needed one, too, and the next thing we knew, the rooftop garden came to be.” Miles heldhis arms wide. “It has been a boost for everyone’s mental health to be able to get a little fresh air and take a plant break during the workday.”
“I can see why.” I took a deep breath, and even with all my anxiety about Eloise and the mystery surrounding my mother and grandmother, I felt myself relax a smidge. I glanced at the now-dormant beds and noticed that one of them had a short wrought iron fence around it, and it wasn’t in alignment with the others but rather was off to the side, isolated.
Tariq followed the line of my gaze. “I wouldn’t go near that one. That’s Olive’s poison garden.”
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I turned to confirm that he was teasing me, but he wasn’t smiling and his warm brown eyes were deadly serious.
