The Collector | 18+

【14】Spacing Out

To say I was morose the next day would be an understatement. After my maybe-not-a-date-after-all with Mr. Westergaard, I'd lay in bed for the longest time, lost in my thoughts. When Gigi had come home after her shift, I'd pretended to sleep when she'd checked on me to avoid having to talk about it. Then, I'd slept poorly all the way to my alarm, only to wake up disillusioned and bitter.

This messed-up situation posed two issues that couldn't be sorted out. First, I'd lose the sword eventually, whenever Mr. Westergaard would make his move and take it away from me. Then, once that was done, I would be forced to accept that the man was an ass, regardless of how much I enjoyed his presence.

In a way, I wasn't scared to move on. I'd done it in the past and I'd do it again. It was a shame, yes, and a lot of wasted potential. But in the end, he was just another man passing through my life.

No, what scared me was that I might give in regardless, bruising my pride and slapping my ego right in the face. What sort of pathetic woman would sleep with a man she knew was a damned asshole? Not the kind of woman I wanted to be, that was for sure.

As soon as I arrived at work, I took a detour to the lab before heading to my office. Only God knew how long we had left with the sword, so I would need Henry to make as many discoveries as he could. After that, it would spend the rest of its days gathering dust in a dark room of the Westergaard Estate.

I entered the lab with my laptop bag on my shoulder, my travel mug in one hand, and a second cup of coffee in the other. I'd stopped to get Henry his favorite coffee on the way, so he'd be full of caffeine and work faster. I'd even bought him a pastry for the sugar rush.

"Hey there, Morton," I greeted him.

"'Morning, Connelly."

"I got you some coffee and a pastry."

He looked at me suspiciously, squinting his eyes at the cup and paper bag. "What are you about to ask of me?"

"What do you mean? I bring you coffee at least once a week." I sounded appalled, which I was.

"I know a bribe when I see one. This is a large cup, and you always go for a medium. Also, pastries are what you get me when you have a favor to ask. You want something, right?"

"Maybe?" I admitted, setting the cup and the bag next to him on his desk. "Got anything new for me?"

"Will you take those back if I don't?"

"I'm not a monster," I laughed.

"Well, good, because I don't have anything. But I do have a bunch of new questions that I can't answer, if that's any consolation."

"Ugh, it's not." There was a spare chair against the wall by his side, so I went to sit on it, letting myself plop down dramatically and letting go of my computer bag.

"Talk to me, mate. What's the matter?"

"We might not have the sword for much longer. The man you met the other day, Mr. Westergaard? He's determined to have it, and I'm afraid he might succeed."

"Can he...do that? I've never heard of someone buying a piece from us. We're not an antique shop."

"Well, given his confidence, I think he can, yes. Which means we have to act fast if we want to solve the mystery behind the sword."

"How long do we have?"

"I don't really know. My best guess is a week? Maybe a little less? I'm coming in tomorrow just so I can work on it. I don't think they'll let me in on Sunday, though. Ian's usually there when this happens, and I probably don't have clearance for it."