The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow Mysteries Book 1)

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The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow Mysteries Book 1) Page 13

by Meghan Scott Molin


  He ducks so that a tiny elf of a girl can put it on him, ever gracious even while wearing a clear WTF expression.

  The sight of the large pointed sorting hat on Matteo’s head causes dragons and glee to bang around my ribcage in a death match. “I don’t know about this one . . . I think he might be a Squib.”

  Matteo knows he’s been insulted and throws me a playful dirty look.

  “Better be . . . Ravenclaw!”

  I’m already clapping. “Yes! That’s perfect! You are so a book nerd!”

  He still looks baffled. “What is a Ravenclaw?”

  The same woman who put the hat on his head holds out her hand. “It’s your Hogwarts house! You may now enter the party! I’m Nina, Kyle’s fiancée, and a Hufflepuff. We’ve heard so much about you, Matteo. And you too, of course, MG. I’m so glad you could make it!”

  Her perkiness goes beyond normal irritation and into the realm of . . . infectious. I find myself smiling back. “Thanks for inviting us.” I lean over as if I’m telling her a secret in a stage whisper. “Matteo is new to a lot of this.”

  She squeals and claps. Kyle wanders up behind her and throws his arm around her shoulders. “MG. Matteo. Welcome!” He points to the kitchen. “The house-elves are in there.” He points over to a large living room where five or six people are sitting, already engrossed in conversation. “Star Wars marathon starts in about ten minutes in there.” He opens a door directly to the right of the entry, which reveals stairs. “Downstairs will be a mix of Settlers of Catan tournament and random episodes of TNG. There’s a Charmander nest down the street for those in the office Pokémon GO competition, and”—he glances at his Apple watch and finishes off with an announcement at large—“pizza will arrive at four p.m.!”

  I give a mock salute, and Matteo follows me like a puppy into the kitchen, where the masses have descended.

  “What do you do, Matteo?” Nina munches on a baby carrot.

  “I went to architecture school,” Matteo responds with his pat answer, and I pray for a diversion away from his job description because while he can hold it together, I can’t lie to my coworkers that well. Any diversion. Some kung fu vampires to pop up from a grave who need slaying. Anything.

  “He’s an architect and he fixed my chair in two seconds flat,” Kyle responds. Total bromance.

  I clear my throat. “How about you, Nina? What do you do?”

  “I’m an actress—theatre, not movie. Hamlet. Neil Simon. Stuff like that. And then I help do some production management stuff to actually pay the bills.” She laughs.

  “That’s really neat. Actually, I’ve always wanted to do costumes for theater but have never pursued it.”

  “You do costume design?” She looks impressed.

  “I take a few commissions. Mostly drag shows right now, but I want to get into art direction so that I can help design superhero costume adaptations. Maybe do costume work on the side.” I bite my lip and cut a look at Kyle, hoping I haven’t said too much. This is why I don’t attend work parties. I suck at playing politics.

  Kyle doesn’t even bat an eyelash at my work comment but dives right in about the costumes. “That’s really cool. I didn’t know you did that. You’d be great at costume design. Your costume sketches are the best on our team.” His straightforward vote of confidence nearly bowls me over, especially given my role within the team is usually the dialogue, and his is usually the panel art. He shoves chips into his mouth and turns toward the Crock-Pot.

  “Stock up. This looks like serious business,” I say to Matteo, eyeing the spread of a humongous Subway sandwich bar and several homemade-looking sides. My stomach literally growls as I spot a huge bowl of my favorite artichoke dip from the Christmas parties.

  “So, MG, if you do costumes . . . can I talk to you about something?” Nina moves closer to me and drops her voice. Her eyes dart to the Crock-Pot as if attempting to gauge whether Kyle can hear her.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Well, Kyle will kill me for asking, but I know he and Simon have been doing this extracurricular stuff, and they need to make it official. With costumes. I was going to try to hack something together myself, but . . . Well, if you’re a professional, we could just hire you to do it.”

  My heart races, and I channel my mental energy into not gaping at her like a fish. I didn’t even have to snoop! Proof that Simon and Kyle are two superheroes in want of costuming! On one hand, I’m shocked they’ve managed to elude police thus far, but on the other hand, I’m glad that this mystery can finally get solved. They can just tell us what they know about the White Rabbit. I school my features. “Oh, yeah, um, of course. I’d love to. What kind of costumes are we talking?”

  Nina eyes the floor. “Well, you’re a fellow geek. I’m sure you’d understand, but I need chain mail.”

  I blink. “Chain mail?” Wouldn’t that be a little heavy when scaling the side of a warehouse?

  “Well, a whole knight costume really. I know it sounds silly, but they are having so much fun learning to sword fight.”

  “Sword fight.”

  “It’s this whole LARPing group they joined to keep fit. Sword fighting, metal working, rope making, stuff like that.”

  Live-action role-playing. I’ve heard of it. Never done it myself, but I don’t hold it against anyone if they want to nerd out in costume. But this negates what I thought would be a big break in the case and possibly means Kyle and Simon are up to nothing more than hitting each other with wooden swords. Or cardboard tubes, like the ones under their desk. I inwardly groan. I need to tell Matteo.

  The man in question now leans so close to me, I can smell his aftershave. It’s a heady scent, and my brain swims with his closeness. Is he playing up the dating thing? Is he possibly going to kiss my shoulder? Or give me a hug from behind? I am so lost in that role-playing fantasy that when he speaks he takes me by surprise.

  “What is a pufflehuff?”

  I snort. “Hufflepuff. It’s another Hogwarts house, from Harry Potter,” I whisper back, reveling in his aftershave awhile longer.

  “Is that the wizard thing?”

  “It’s a person. And yes, he’s a wizard. Why do you ask?”

  Matteo nods toward Andy. “That guy over there said that he’d thought for sure I’d be in that Hufflepuff house. I told him it sounded girly.” He lowers his voice until just I can hear him. “Plus, I need to be making notes about your coworkers, so maybe you can introduce me?” I bite my lip but nod, and we shuffle around the kitchen until we’re in a corner between the sandwiches and the artichoke dip.

  I keep my voice low, anxiety pooling in my belly. It’s normal that I introduce everyone to my guest, right? Act natural. I point in turn at the people in the room with us. “That’s Andy. He’s essentially my boss. He presents our team’s work to the executive art directors at Genius. He really doesn’t seem the type to chase anyone, much less bad guys, but that’s your area of expertise.” And the guy who steals my ideas to get my promotion. Even if he did do a teensy bit better job packaging my ideas. I’m not quite ready to forgive him, though, so I’m going to just continue to studiously avoid him today.

  “Next is Kyle, who you met. He’s an illustrator, and he works on the new Hooded Falcon and whatever other current Genius comics are tying in. There’s Tej over there; he’s the most charming guy you’ll ever meet. He works on adaptations for films, coordinating with developers, marketing, press releases, that sort of thing. He’s not always a part of our work team, but he’s awesome.” He’s also gorgeous, geek or not. Mocha skin, dark hair always updated with the trends, immaculate clothes, and black plastic-frame Clark Kent glasses. He’s laughing in the living room with a woman I assume is his girlfriend or wife. I’m newly ashamed that I don’t even know if my coworkers are married.

  Simon steps into the kitchen, so I introduce him, hoping it comes off as natural. “And this is Simon. He’s the illustrator I work with the most. His desk is right next to mine, and he’s helping
me with Hooded Falcon and Hero Girls right now, although I hear tell that he’s going to be pulled onto a revival of The Green Monster. Version six hundred million.”

  “Version six hundred million and one,” Simon corrects, reaching out to shake Matteo’s hand before pointing to the girl deep in conversation with Nina. “And that’s my wife, Isabella—no relation.”

  Matteo looks thrown. “No relation to . . .”

  “Twilight?” Simon smirks. “Sparklepires?”

  “Let’s not destroy Matteo’s perfect and pristine mental canvas with that,” I say, looping an arm around Matteo. His middle is solid, and I can’t keep myself from wondering if he has a six-pack like the cops on TV have. A moment later I let it drop, unsure if the contact is appropriate.

  “You’ve never heard of Twilight?” Simon asks.

  Matteo gives an affable grin. “Unless you mean the Zone, no.”

  Simon studies Matteo the way a scientist studies a curious specimen. “So what fandoms are you into?”

  “Fandoms?” The word is obviously foreign in Matteo’s mouth.

  “It means, What are you a fan of? What do you watch? Who do you ship?” I pop a baby carrot in my mouth, devilishly relishing his squirming under the question.

  “Ship?” he asks finally, rubbing the back of his neck. He shoots me a look that plainly says, “Help!”

  “Ships are couples. Shorthand for ‘relationship’ originally, but now just means two people you want to see get together.” I really should help him. Really, I should. Simon watches us with naked glee on his face.

  Matteo frowns. “I liked that Arwen lady and Strider? Is that a ship?”

  I struggle not to correct him that Arwen was an elf and not a lady. Though kudos to Matteo for being able to even name Arwen from LOTR. I try to hide my distaste. Those books are long and boring, with a few exciting dragon chapters followed by long and boring.

  Simon nods. “Ah, so you’re a fantasy geek. I can dig that. Sorry it’s not D&D downstairs.”

  “Don’t you like The Lord of the Rings?” Matteo asks me, puzzled.

  “Not my favorite. I’m more of a space geek. Trek, Wars, Battlestar, Firefly, Doctor Who—science fiction, space opera. That sort of stuff.” I turn to Simon. “He’s new to all this.”

  “So there are types of . . .” He probably wants to say “geeks,” but I can see he’s afraid of offending Simon.

  Tej leans in around Simon and dips a chip into the French onion dip. “Geekdom? You betcha. I am a fellow fantasy geek.” He executes a mini bow. “People come at geekdom from different directions. There’s the Japanese anime lovers, like my wife. Then there’s the band and music geeks—”

  “Guilty as charged.” Andy waves a hand. We’ve attracted everyone’s attention apparently. “I played oboe.” He would.

  “Music geeks like to dabble. A little of this, a little of that,” Simon finishes.

  “And then there are the space geeks,” Tej adds.

  I raise my hand. “Although every once in a while, if I’ve had some wine, I do like Game of Thrones. Or should I call it ‘Death and Boobies’? Brienne of Tarth is my Patronus.”

  Tej cracks up. “Yeah, you need to drink for that show.”

  At this point, Matteo has his arms crossed over his chest and is staring between us like we’re speaking a different language. “What on earth is a Patronus?”

  “Well, technically our animal counterpart when you use the Expecto Patronum spell. But it can also mean a character you love. Or admire. It’s pretty standard in the geek world. For example, if you ever need to find your people, it’s totally legit to yell out, ‘Who’s your Patronus?’” Simon makes it a point by yelling the last words. It’s a game we play in the office from time to time.

  “No one could possibly be prepared for—” Matteo is cut off by a chorus of answers from various rooms in the house.

  “Giles from Buffy!”

  “Katniss Everdeen!” This from Nina, who looks pretty fierce for a wee one.

  “Neil deGrasse Tyson!” Simon answers his own question with a smile.

  Kyle steps into the kitchen and taps Matteo on the shoulder. “Hey, do you want to play Settlers or just hang with the lady friend and watch the movies? I can sign you up if you want.” He holds up a clipboard.

  “Absolutely Ron Swanson from Parks and Rec,” Tej answers.

  “Dana Scully,” Tej’s wife calls.

  I offer her a fist bump. “Word. Dana Scully is amazing.”

  Matteo turns to me, wide-eyed. “How do I know who my Patronus is? Can you look it up somewhere?”

  This brings a wave of laughter from everyone gathered.

  “Okay, okay. Nothing to see here. Move along.” I try to fight my own laughter. “Babe, we’ll visit Pottermore sometime. For now I think”—I tap my chin—“Wash from Firefly.”

  Kyle arrives back in the kitchen carrying the Settlers of Catan box. “Okay, I’m headed downstairs after I start the movies.”

  After the spirit animals conversation, Matteo sticks to me like glue. I’m his life raft in this sea of awesome. “Oh good, I’m curious about these Star Wars movies. I’ve heard about them a lot since meeting MG.”

  You could have heard a pin drop.

  Kyle sucks in a breath. “You’ve never seen Star Wars? Like, ever?”

  “Never seen them, no. Is that bad?” Matteo has failed his entrance exam to my world. Never seen Star Wars.

  “We’ve got ourselves a virgin!” Kyle grasps Matteo’s shoulders in his hands and shakes him back and forth with enthusiasm. “Don’t worry. We’ll be gentle. Well, at least I’ll be gentle. The jury is still out on MG.”

  I cough to cover the rush of heat spreading on my face, and beside me, Matteo’s hands spasm.

  “Where on earth did you find him?” This question is to me, and I can tell that Kyle is baffled I’m dating someone so far outside our world.

  “You’d never believe it,” I say with a smile. I turn to Matteo, having a bit of a hard time meeting his eyes after the virginity comment. “Shall we?”

  I escort him into the living room. This should be more than interesting. I’ve never seen Star Wars for anyone’s first time.

  Matteo pops the bottle cap on a beer and takes a swig. “Let the beatings begin.”

  “We will watch these movies in the only order that should ever be presented,” Kyle announces while slipping the first Blu-ray disc into the player. “Today will be episodes IV, V, VI. Next weekend I, II, III, and Rogue One.” There is some mild booing from the crowd at this, and Kyle waves his hand. “I know. We all have to deal with Jar Jar together, but I’m a purist, and we can’t skip them. And then we’ll watch the new ones, starting with The Force Awakens.”

  Matteo leans over. “Why would we watch episode IV before episode I?”

  “So much to learn have you, young Padawan. It’s the historical release order.”

  Matteo’s eyes dart to the side, then back to mine. His tone is confessional, his eyes furtive. “I wasn’t expecting this to be so much . . . fun. It makes it hard to do my job. Your coworkers are a blast.”

  I’m having fun too, and Matteo makes it hard for me to focus on the case. He’s too good at playing boyfriend. I smile and bump his shoulder with mine. The fun is just starting. “Just wait until you see the movies.”

  I’ve seen these movies at least twenty times, and I’m used to making snarky comments and pointing out filming errors. I haven’t watched Star Wars without a liberal dose of cynicism since I was ten years old. But something funny begins to happen when we start A New Hope. The words scrawl across the screen, and Matteo reads them out loud, and a shiver runs down my spine. This whole universe is about to be opened up to him, and I’m the one who gets to introduce him to the marvels of the Millennium Falcon. And R2-D2. And I’m seriously hoping this is the old cut with the non-remastered Jabba. I realize I’m giddy. It feels magical. Like the first time I saw them myself and got caught up in the wonder of it all, instead of
wondering where the stormtroopers got so much PVC to make their armor in space.

  And it’s not just me. The enjoyment level amps up across the room. No one goes downstairs to play Settlers. Everyone is up here because it feels new and exciting. Instead of being on the outside, I can feel Matteo being encircled by my coworkers, and it fills my insides with warm fuzzies. I snuggle onto the couch, trying to walk the line of looking like a couple without crossing professional boundaries. I settle for legs touching, but no cuddling.

  “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for” launches a whole conversation—which requires pausing the movie—between Matteo and Tej about the Force. Kyle jumps in, explaining the finer points of robotics in the Empire. I sit back and watch all of this unfold, feeling like a spectator on several levels. I’m grateful that my coworkers invited us and teased Matteo a little but then welcomed him into the fold. They didn’t have to do that. Heck, I don’t think I would have done it if the tables were turned. How many guys have I dumped after the first date because they just “didn’t get” my life or my geek culture references? I didn’t have time to educate people. Matteo kind of forced my hand, but he’s into it. My own universe expands a smidge.

  Matteo laughs at the right times, sits forward at the right times. He’s not just pretending. I catch myself watching him more than the movie, my heart beating in my throat, pulse pounding in my body. This is sexy. Instead of being repulsed by his non-geekdom, I’m inarguably attracted by it. A wave of heat suffuses my face, and I sit against the back of the couch, needing a breath of air, a small moment to gain my composure. My heart is pounding like I’ve just run a mile.

  “You okay?” Matteo leans his head into mine as the movie hits a quiet spell. He pats my knee in a way that is meant to appear classically affectionate but ends up shooting spirals of energy right through my middle. I’m having an internal meltdown because he touched my leg. How thirty going on thirteen can I get?

  “Yeah. Of course. You?” If by “okay” you mean “melting inside.”

  “I’m having a great time.” The words sound affable and normal. But our eyes meet, and there’s something that catches there. Something that sparks in his gaze to mirror my own unguarded reaction. His hand stops patting and holds my knee, his long fingers nearly encircling my leg. The gesture is no longer a play at affection. It’s a searing brand on my leg. The heat between us isn’t make-believe. In this moment it’s real and palpable. Our gazes lock in the slowly waning afternoon light. It’s the first moment that I know for certain he feels this crazy pull too. The crazy pull that we can’t do anything about because we’re solving a crime together.

 

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