Not even the jazzy rhythm of Louis Armstrong on the Bronco's tape deck
can cut the tension in the car.
"Why, oh why, does this have to happen to me," Odyssey mutters
to the empty vehicle.
"C'mon, c'mon, move it. I've got a 7:50 appointment with the Golden
Avenger," she yells at the car in front of me. If only I had ESP,
this guy would be hearing some choice words from me right now.
Glancing down at her watch, she sees the hands resting on the 7 and
the 6. It's 7:30 p.m. I'm doomed. I'm stuck on the freeway with no chance
of getting off and I have 20 minutes to get home, change and get to PRIMUS
headquarters. How did this happen. I certainly left work early enough....
"Honestly Cassandra, I don't understand how you work in this office,"
Peter Davidson said, peering over the mountain of books still left on the
floor from Knightblade's research Sunday. "And why are you reading
'Lott's Guide to Pagan Rituals in Ancient Cultures?' "
"Oh, that's nothing," she says, easing the book out of his hand
while surreptitiously pushing the rest of those tomes behind the desk.
I should have put those away before I left for lunch with the Avengers.
"Just curiosity with all the museum break-ins."
"And of course my office is small, you took the largest one,"
she says, changing the subject of the conversation. I'm going to have
to be more careful about where I do my work. "I guess that's the
benefit of being the senior assistant curator."
"You bet it is," Peter says, slumping down in the easy chair.
"That and being able to skip work to ask one of my fellow employees
why she gets office calls from superheroes like Knightblade."
Damn Monique. She must have been trying to get Peter's attention. I
think she's attempting to pick him up. Well, she's failed and now it's
made things damn uncomfortable for me.
"I met him at the theater the other night," she says, trying
to convey an image of nonchalance. "He was helping PRIMUS investigate
that singer whose was snatched on-stage during the 'Phantom.' I thought
a picture of him in his armor would make an excellent addition to that
upcoming Arms and Armor exhibit we have. Plus, if we included a mention
of him, it might attract more children, and thus parents, to the museum."
Peter brightens up at this. Lucky for Cassie, one of his great loves is
medieval battle dress. He's been looking forward to this exhibit all year.
Maybe if Monique dressed up in chain mail, she might get his interest.
"That's great," he sputters. "Do you think he'll agree to
it?"
"As long as it's tastefully done, he said it would be OK," she
says, crossing her fingers behind her back.
"Cool!" Peter exclaims, rolling out of the chair. "I'm going
to start doing some research. Maybe I can find some historical armor that
resembles his. It would be great to have it in the exhibit. 14th century
German, perhaps, or French.."
Peter leaves the office mumbling to himself. Whew! That was close. Peter's
a great guy, but I don't think I should even hint that I'm talking to Knightblade
about a case. Peter's not stupid and he has a real hard time keeping things
to himself. I'd better get back to work. Super-heroing has it's
place, but if I don't finish cataloging that Estrucan pottery, the museum's
curator is going to be all over me.
Three hours later, Cassie had finished most of it. Leaving the office,
she's forced to pass through both security checkpoints to get out to the
Bug. Damn these thefts. I hate working in an armed camp.
The Bug turned over on the first try. Yes! Something going her way.
Twenty minutes later she was pulling up in front of the house.
Rushing in, she calls for Tony.
"I'm in here," he yells from the master bedroom. They call it
the master bedroom, but it's really only two feet longer than the other
bedroom. Still, it sounds better calling it the master bedroom. Just like
the pantry is the 'wine cellar' simply because Tony has hidden two boxes
of his great-grandfather's best wine in there. It's one of the things they
both have missed since the family wrote them off - being able to visit
the Salvatore vineyards.
"You are not taking that shirt with you?" Cassie asks, cringing
at the orange stripes.
"Yeah, I thought I'd wear with with the blue pants to the meeting,"
Tony says without even looking up from his place kneeling under the bed.
"Have you seen my black dress shoes?"
"They are in the closet behind your golf clubs and I forbid you to
wear this- this atrocity to the meeting. Do you want to lose this contract?"
"No, but I don't see what the shirt has to do with that," Tony
says, extricating his huge frame from under the bed.
"It has everything to do with it," she says, snatching the orange
shirt out of the garment bag. I swear
I'm going to burn this while he's gone. "One look at that shirt
and they'll think that you're color blind and couldn't build your way out
of an alley. Here, wear this one," she says, stuffing a light tan
dress shirt and a dark chocolate pair of pants in the bag. "They look
wonderful on you. Very professional."
"What would I do without you?" Tony says, planting a kiss on
her nose.
"Probably become a walking fashion disaster. Animals would flee before
you."
After a few breathless minutes, she suddenly hits him in the stomach."As
much as I would love to continue this, you're going to miss your flight
if we don't get going."
"We have plenty of time if you teleport me to the airport," Tony
says patting the bed.
"You are incorrigible and I'm not teleporting you to the airport,"
say Cassie with mock seriousness.
"We are getting there like any other normal San Francisco residents.
I bet you the Golden Avenger doesn't use his jet to hop across town. So
I shouldn't be teleporting."
"How would you know what the Golden Avenger uses for transportation?"
Tony asks, zipping up his bags.
"Well, for one thing I met him today," she says with a smile.
"What!" booms Tony.