Sirenz - By Charlotte Bennardo Page 0,21
wondered if Hades had decorated this place too.
“Perfect!” Shar whispered. She pushed her glasses onto her forehead, her hazel eyes glowing with excitement. “Let’s have a look around, and—”
She was interrupted by footfalls in the adjacent hallway; we weren’t the only early risers. If it was Demi, then she’d have to acknowledge that we were eager to please, and maybe that would get us a gold star. Hastily, Shar plunked the sunglasses back down over her nose.
A door opened, and out stepped Jeremy. I caught my breath. His hair was loose and hung over his cheek, brushing his chin and the collar of his slightly rumpled shirt.
He halted at the sight of us. “You two here already?”
Shar beamed. “Yes sir, bright and early and ready to work.”
He looked at his watch, then pulled a band out of a pocket to tie his hair back. “Okay. Actually, this works out great because things will start to get busy fast around here once people start coming in, and that’ll be in about ten minutes. I’ll show you around.”
He winked at me as he opened the door. The other side of the reception area was a different world. It was like stepping into Oz—there was no taupe or tan anywhere. Our feet bounced on a plush royal purple carpet as we walked, and I could see a distorted shadow of myself in the silvery foil pattern of the wallpaper. Every few yards, a glass case stood sentinel against the wall. Inside each one was a Fabergé egg.
“They’re fakes,” Jeremy whispered. “He keeps the real ones locked up somewhere. Hey, I have one of those!” He touched the cat hanging from my purse. “I’m always looking for good luck.” He started down the main hallway.
I nodded and smiled vindictively at Shar, who scowled angrily while I tried not to gloat.
Jeremy walked briskly, speaking rapidly as if there wasn’t enough time to tell us everything we had to know.
“It’s a real hive in here. Mr. Romanov is already in his office and he’s booked with appointments until eight or nine p.m., long after you’re gone.”
Shar piped up. “We want to be as helpful as we can. If you need us to stay late, we’re good with that. Anything we can do for Ark—I mean, Mr. Romanov, we’re there.” Then she tripped over a lump in the fluffy rug and stumbled into the wall. We all stopped.
Jeremy looked back and frowned. “Are you okay? Don’t you want to take your glasses off?”
Shar looked panicked. She didn’t take off her shades—she didn’t dare—and she didn’t offer an explanation.
“Lasik,” I blurted, before I could stop myself. For a few horrible seconds, I mentally searched my body, waiting to feel something sprout or puff … but nothing. Then I calmed down, remembering what Hades had said. I hadn’t given any suggestions or orders, nor wanted to. I’d just offered an explanation. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be mission impossible, just mission very, very, very careful. “Shar had Lasik surgery,” I repeated, in as low and monotone a voice as I could.
“Oh,” he began. I couldn’t tell whether he accepted it or not, but thankfully, Shar joined in.
“Yeah, no more contacts for me. But I have to wear these for a while—inside and out.” She tapped her glasses.
“Just take it slow then, okay? Mr. Romanov doesn’t like to deal with workmen’s comp.” He patted her on the shoulder and I couldn’t help but notice that his hand didn’t linger there. We continued our tour of the office.
“Here’s the Yellow Salon, the Purple Salon, the fitting rooms, and the Gold Salon. Admin is on the other side—Reynaldo, the Collection Coordinator, is there, and so is Callie, our IT person. Mr. Romanov’s office is down the hall to the end, behind the huge double doors. I don’t know if you’ll actually be able to meet him, not many of the staff have. He’s a very private person, and extremely busy.”
Was this another of Hades’ ironic manipulations? We’d be in the same building, on the same floor, and probably within feet of Arkady Romanov, but we’d never get close enough to him to get him to a portal. The nearest one was four blocks away at the city morgue, and I doubted we’d be able to convince him to go there without morphing ourselves into poultry. I nudged Shar hard in the ribs, and she looked at me and glared angrily. She had to be thinking the same thing as I was; that