She’s not giving away whether this is good or bad.
“I was not aware trustees could serve on multiple museum boards,” Phoebe continues. Her voice stays neutral.
“Generally, they can’t,” Harvey says. “She has to be able to fulfill a duty of loyalty to both institutions. In this case, there will be no competing collections since the purpose of each museum is different and each serves different communities. But it does mean that Catherine must avoid the perception of siphoning talent from the Sutton staff.”
“She’ll have no cause for concern,” Phoebe says.
“Good. We’ll go over the other new trustees as well, but it’s your world now, Ms. Hopper, and we’re simply living in it.” Harvey gives an expansive wave of his hand, as if to encompass the entirety of the house and grounds. “Where does Madam Director choose to begin?”
She hitches the laptop bag on her shoulder. “I’d like to deposit my things somewhere, ideally in an appropriate work space.”
So stiff. Wow. It can’t be good to be wound so tight. “Harvey, why don’t I do the tour? No use charging the estate your extortionate hourly billing.”
Harvey chuckles, but Phoebe answers. “That’s considerate of you, Jay, but I’ll need a great deal in the way of technical specs. Plus, I had a tour when I was here before.”
“You’ll want Jay to give you a tour anyway,” Harvey says. “He knows every inch of this property, and he won’t bill you for the tour. Besides, it will give you a chance to get to know the vice chair of the board.”
Phoebe blinks, looks at my flip-flops, and gives me a polite smile. Her mouth says, “That sounds efficient,” but her eyes sayVice chairs don’t wear flip-flops.
“Excellent. I’ll head over to my office and let some other clients overpay me,” he says with a wink. “Phoebe, call me if you need anything. You have my number.”
“Thank you, Harvey.” Her eyes follow him as he shows himself out before she turns back to me. When she does, her shoulders relax and she slides her hands into the pockets of her suit pants, head tilted like she’s out observing something interesting in nature.
“Vice chair of the board, huh? You didn’t mention that on Saturday.”
“I forgot when I was overcome by your opera performance.”
She nods. “That tracks. It was pretty stunning.”
Ha. Her starch disappeared with Harvey out the door, apparently. “Ready for the tour?”
“Don’t rush. We have time for you to brush your hair.”
There is the tiniest whiff of a smirk about her when she says it, and I smother a grin. She’s paying me back for catching her joyriding.
“I wouldn’t mind making some coffee. Until you decide where you want your office, why don’t you set up in thelibrary for now? I believe you know how to find it. Overly sunny with a rolling ladder?”
She’s fighting a retort, and I hope she loses. I want to hear it.
She sticks her tongue out, then composes her face like it never happened and turns down the hall toward the library.
Ah, there she is. I grin all the way out the back door.
Chapter Six
Phoebe
Jay Martin is a charmer.I know the type. He shows up in bare feet—practically—wrinkled Nantucket Reds, a Celtics shirt, and rumpled hair, clearly only arriving on time because he apparently lives in the backyard and expects to be forgiven for his lack of preparation. Maybe even admired for it.
It doesn’t bother me. I’m just not taken in by it. The only real concern here is that if Jay Martin is the type I think he is, he will not be able to resist trying to charm me or any other human in his proximity, man, woman, or child. Which only matters because I possibly have a weakness for handsome East Coast boys with a certain old-school Kennedys-on-vacation vibe.
Knowing is half the battle. Knowing he’s my type will keep me on my toes around him, because the very last thing I need right now is a … boyfriend? Situationship? Romance? Entanglement? Any of the above. The very last thing I need right now is anything like that in the workplace.
I’m pretty good about not making the same mistake twice.
The library curtains are open again, and I shake my head,setting my bag on the large wooden desk and closing them. Then I take a seat, pull out my laptop, and run a hotspot so I can be productive until Jay returns. Not sure it’s worth the free tour if it’s going to cost me time.
I’m drafting a job listing for an archivist when Jay returns ten minutes later carrying two cups of coffee. He extends one to me. “I’m an Americano guy, but since I don’t know how you take it, there’s cream and sugar in the kitchen.”
