Making Mina 2: Strings Attached Read Online Free PDF

want,” he said, “but, tonight I am laying all of my cards on the table.”  He quirked an eyebrow at her, “That is how you say it, yes?”
    “Yes,” she nodded.  She was light-headed from trying to follow his reasoning and remembering to breathe.
    “The contracts are signed.  The exhibit is yours.  Your time, as of tomorrow, will be divided between the Oppen and my houses, both here in the U.S. and in Italy.  You will need to organize and catalog items from several different estates. If,” he met her eyes, “after the time we spend together you decide that you do not wish to further our  relationship , you will be free to leave at any time.  I will never force you, but I will use every tool at my disposal to convince you that here,” he waved a hand to indicate the small space between them, “is both where you should be, and where you  want  to be.”
    He leaned in suddenly, the rapid closing of distance taking Mina’s breath away.
    “I  promise .”
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    “No, no, NO!  That has to be carried with the arrows pointing UP!  That’s why the label reads ‘This End Up!’”
    Mina rubbed her forehead trying to ease the headache growing there.  A tropical storm was moving in from the Atlantic and she was desperately trying to get the last of the items from Marco’s Miami residence transported—intact—to the Oppen.  He only had a tiny fraction of the collection there, but it contained some of the smallest and most delicate pieces, and after hearing some of the horror stories Santiago Valdes had told her—broken burial urns, combined pottery fragments, and straightforward theft—she’d watched the moving team like a broody hen.  The Head Curator had surprised her with how supportive he’d been, giving her step by step instructions for every eventuality, and she was finally getting comfortable in her role as Curator of the Genovese Collection. 
    She wasn’t so comfortable with the collection’s owner, but Marco had been noticeably absent for the past few days.  After announcing his intentions at dinner he’d turned around and immediately disappeared. He announced that he had to leave to attend meetings in North Carolina—some big property transfer in the Outer Banks—and was gone within a few hours. She almost missed him. 
    Almost.
    “Mina,” Ivy called as she came around the corner, white latex gloves jarring with her all black outfit, “I need you to sign off on these two items.  There’s an unmarked atmospherically sealed case, and an engraved bronze mirror that were separated from everything else.  I’m thinking these must be particular favorites.”
    Mina followed her friend back down the long hallway, pausing momentarily outside Marco’s bedroom. She’d gotten over the view, and the opulent furnishings.  She stopped marveling at the glass cases that flanked the desk in his office.  She’d even managed to stop shaking every time she washed her hands and smelled the scent of his soap on her skin, but that bedroom door stopped her every time.
    “You okay?” Ivy asked.  Her dark eyes were curious and Mina understood.  After that first day she hadn’t been interested in discussing the details of her dubious relationship.  All she’d told Ivy was that the exhibit was for real, and that Marco wasn’t as bad as she thought.
    “I’m fine,” she said with a rueful laugh.  “I never realized that when Santiago was running around yelling about idiots, he had good reasons.”  She tilted her head.  “I don’t think I’ve been able to finish one thought today without having to stop everything to keep one of the movers from sitting on the crates, or tossing boxes into the truck.  My head is killing me.”
    Ivy nodded knowingly.  Being a conservationist, she had often come back to their little office fuming because some schmuck handled metalwork without gloves, or hadn’t replaced the acid-free covers on paper items