by Kris Tualla
“It’s Sveyn.” She hit the green Answer icon. “Hi!”
“Hello, Hollis.” His deep voice sent tingles straight to her gut. “George called the agency.”
“George called Robert Ford.” Hollis switched her phone to speaker so she wouldn’t have to repeat the rest of the conversation to Miranda and Stevie. “And?”
“And he talked to James. James called Rochelle in, and they put him on speaker phone.”
“Okay.”
“They believed the story that I was gypsy, but they do not want Match Point to know.”
Hollis nodded. “I can understand that. Gypsies don’t have the best reputation.”
“So George told them that once I have my papers, no one will ever have to ask about it again.”
“Right. Were they good with that?”
“In part.” Sveyn paused and Hollis thought he was laughing. “They are going to create something called a back story for me.”
“Like a fake history?”
“Yes.”
“Do they know what that will be?”
“George suggested that they say I am a Viking descendent from Norway.” Sveyn was definitely laughing now. “And they thought he was brilliant to come up with such an idea so quickly.”
Chapter Seventeen
Friday
January 29
“Thank God it’s Friday,” Hollis said to Sveyn as she hefted her purse and briefcase. “I’m exhausted.”
All this week Hollis worked closely with Tom to structure the newly created assistant job which he would assume on March first. While her hours would be flexing around paid ghost-hunter types, Tom would work a regular nine-to-five schedule. Assigning specific tasks to his watch was crucial to getting them off her plate but still assure they were completed.
“There will be extra guards when you have these people here at night, right?” Tom asked her. “Especially after… Well, you know.”
“Of course.”
I certainly hope so.
Sveyn turned her around, rested his big hands on her shoulders and began to knead her knotted muscles. “It is time for us to go out on a date, Hollis. Like we did before.”
She moaned as his ministrations sent goosebumps down her back. “Only now you can actually eat the food.”
“And you will not have to pretend to speak to me on your Bluetooth.”
That would be a relief. While that ruse proved effective, she highly preferred having Sveyn actually with her. Especially in her bed. He was solid, warm, and the way he reached out for her in his sleep made her feel cherished.
After Matt, the change was delicious.
Hopefully they might be able to add physical intimacy to their relationship soon. Sveyn awakened with an erection on five of the last seven mornings, and though he still groaned as he woke, it was nothing like the roars of the first night.
“Was it still painful this morning?” she asked.
“It gets better each time.”
So, yes. “You will have to tell me when you’re ready,” she said softly. “I have no other way to know.”
Sveyn leaned down and spoke into her ear, sending additional shivers over her skin. “You will know, Hollis. Because that night I will take you very, very well. The way you deserve to be taken.”
While any other twenty-first century woman might be offended at Sveyn’s promise to ‘take’ her, Hollis had grown used to his occasionally archaic language.
She turned her head to his, whispering, “And I will let you, my love.”
Sveyn winced and heaved a strained sigh. “This is good,” he rasped. “The more it happens, the less it hurts.”
Hollis felt his fullness against her hip. The urge to drop everything, including her pants, swamped her. “That day cannot come soon enough, trust me.”
Sveyn lowered his hands from her shoulders. “Have a good day, Hollis.”
Hollis turned around to face the Viking. The sad-puppy look on his face underscored his obvious boredom. Though only a week had passed so far, waiting for the government bureaucracy was wearing on him.
Bless his heart, George remained in constant contact with the Robert Ford agency, assuring them that everything about Sveyn was legitimate and to go ahead and schedule the screen test. He also fed them an expanded back story suggestion which was as close to Sveyn’s actual life as it could be in this century.
“What did they say?” Sveyn asked after George presented it.
“I told them the story was based on one of your ancestors.” George grinned. “To be honest, I think Rochelle was relieved not to have to make it up herself.”
George told them he expected the fingerprint clearance to come through at any minute, and when it did Sveyn could get a birth certificate. And when he got a Social Security number he could start his previously unanticipated career as pitchman for Match Point.
A connection pinged in Hollis’s thoughts: Security. A night guard.
Sveyn.
Paid or not didn’t matter at this point. It was time to get him started at the museum.
“Get dressed,” Hollis said. “You’re coming to work with me.”
“To the museum?” Sveyn looked confused. “Why?”
“I’m going to get you hired as my personal guard, at least for now,” she said getting more excited as she thought about it. “When I’m at the museum after hours with the paid guests, I want you at my side.”
Sveyn looked like a kid at Christmas discovering a pile of presents. “Yes! Give me one minute and I will be ready!”
*****
Sveyn walked into the museum which was so familiar to him and heaved a sigh of relief. While the internet was fascinating and he was learning so much about the world he now inhabited, he realized that along with this physical body came the craving for human contact.
He followed Hollis into her office while she hung up her jacket, stowed her purse in her desk, and set her briefcase on top of it.
“Let’s get coffee,” she said, and they walked down the hallway to the staff breakroom.
“Sveyn!” Stevie smiled happily when she saw him. “What are you doing here?”
“I am going to be Hollis’s guard when she must stay here at night with strangers,” he replied.
“What a great idea!” Stevie looked at Hollis. “You couldn’t have a better guard than a man who really knows how to fight.”
Hollis smiled up at him. “I’ll be safe if he’s with me. Especially if I show him where we keep the battle implements.”
Sveyn chuckled. “I already know. Remember?”
Stevie was clearly surprised. “Do you already know where everything in the museum is? Like ESP?”
He shrugged. “What is ESP?”
“Extra sensory perception,” she explained uselessly. “You know things, like, intuitively.”
Sveyn was lost. He shifted his attention to Hollis, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee. “What is she talking about?”
Hollis set pot down. “She’s talking about people who seem to be able to identify things that they can’t see. It was a big deal a few decades ago.”
“Is this ability real?”
“The research was sketchy at best, so probably not.” Hollis lifted an empty coffee cup. “Do you want some?”
Sveyn hadn’t tried coffee yet, since Hollis never made it at home. “Yes. Thank you.”
“So how do you know?” Stevie prodded.
Sveyn gave her a sly grin. “Because before now, I could move through things.”
Stevie’s brow crinkled. “Like walls?”
“Walls, boxes, shelves, doors.” Sveyn’s grin widened. “I have explored the entire museum.”
Stevie giggled. “So if I want to know where anything is, I can ask you?”
Hollis handed him a cup of the hot brown liquid. “Unless it’s been moved. He can’t do that now, obviously.”
Sveyn lifted the cup with its fragrant contents to his lips. He felt the heat in his hands and rising stea
m tickled his nose.
“You can add cream or sugar if you find it too bitter,” Hollis said.
He lowered the cup. “Yes, I have watched you all do that. You add cream, Stevie adds cream and sugar, and Miranda adds something from a blue paper packet.”
“That’s a different kind of sweetener.”
Stevie tipped her head to the side. “What else did you see when we couldn’t see you?”
Sveyn knew what she meant. “Nothing embarrassing, let me assure you.”
He took a sip of the coffee. It was interesting. Like most things he experienced, it tasted just like it smelled. He sniffed it again, and took another sip.
“What do you think?” Hollis asked.
“I think I will like it.” He sipped it yet again. “And I will not add anything to it.”
“Okay.” Hollis reclaimed her own cup. “Let’s go talk to Miranda about getting your paperwork and uniform.”
“Good.” Sveyn turned toward the closed breakroom door and without thinking walked right into it.
*****
The loud thud of the big Viking’s impact against the solid steel door startled Hollis and she gasped more deeply than she should have. As he staggered backward in shock she wanted to laugh, but poor Sveyn was doused in hot coffee.
He dropped the ceramic mug on the floor where it shattered and frantically pulled his soaked shirt over his head. What had to be Norse curses streamed from his mouth through the knit fabric until he was freed of it.
“Are you hurt?” Hollis asked, ignoring the pain in her own chest.
“No,” he grunted, staring at the mess in stunned evaluation.
Stevie already had paper towels in her hand and she dropped them on the spill. She unrolled another handful, ran it under the faucet, and handed the wet wad to Sveyn.
“Give me your shirt,” she said, trading the garment for the towels.
Sveyn used the paper towels to wash the coffee from his chest while Stevie rinsed his possibly-ruined shirt in the sink.
Hollis stood still, concentrating on breathing without stressing her injury further.
“I am an idiot,” Sveyn grumbled.
“No you’re not,” Hollis objected. “You spent over four months walking through the doors and walls here, and you just forgot you couldn’t anymore.”
The door opened from the outside and Miranda stuck her head in. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” Stevie said over her shoulder. “Sveyn walked into the door and spilled his coffee.”
Miranda entered the room fully then. As she examined the tall, muscular, and shirtless Viking, Hollis could practically hear her boss’s lusty thoughts.
“Oh, my…” Miranda breathed. “Are you okay?”
Hollis watched Sveyn try to recompose himself. “My dignity has suffered far more than my body.”
“He’s used to walking through closed doors,” Stevie chirped as she wrung out Sveyn’s shirt. “He just forgot.”
Miranda slid her incredulous gaze to Hollis. “Am I really having this conversation?”
“Yep.” Hollis finally moved, stepping forward to retrieve the paper towels and pieces of coffee cup from the tiled floor.
“Well. Alrighty, then.” Miranda shook her head and drew a deep breath. “So, Sveyn. It’s nice to have you visiting us today.”
Hollis opened her mouth to speak, but Sveyn beat her to it.
“I am here to do what is required to allow me to be Hollis’s security guard when she works at night.”
“Oh!” Miranda’s face clearly displayed the shifts of her thoughts. “We already do have a guard when she’s here at night, you know.”
“I do.” Sveyn gave her a kind but pointed smile. “And yet she was imprisoned in the Collections Storeroom in spite of the security here.”
Miranda blanched. “No one was supposed to be here.”
Sveyn clasped his hands behind his back, but said nothing. Hollis took a fresh look at the body she was getting to know and saw the old scars and sculpted muscles of his previous life.
Only a fool would challenge him now.
And Everett Sage was a fool.
“He doesn’t need to be paid until he can be legally hired,” Hollis stated. “But I want my guardian angel with me if I’m going to continue to be here at night with the crazies.”
Miranda nodded. “I understand.”
“So we need to do some paperwork and get him a uniform,” Hollis pressed.
“And a museum t-shirt. Extra-large.” A grinning Stevie handed Hollis Sveyn’s damp shirt. “Can’t have him scandalizing us women by walking around here without one.”
*****
George called Sveyn on his cell phone while he was trying on uniforms. “Hello?”
“Great news, Sveyn!” the attorney said without preamble. “Your fingerprint clearance came through!”
“That is good news, George. What do I do now?”
“I’m going to pick you up and we’ll go apply for your birth certificate. I don’t want to wait until Monday.”
“Good.” Then Sveyn remembered to say, “I am at the museum with Hollis.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I will be her security guard when she works at night.”
“That’s a great idea,” George said. “I’m sure she’ll feel better with you there.”
“Yes. And I will feel better as well.”
“See you in a few.”
He means minutes. “I will be ready.”
When George arrived, Sveyn was sitting in Hollis’s office. His folded uniform was on her desk and the stained shirt was draped over the coat rack to dry.
George looked at the evidence and asked, “Did you have a mishap this morning?”
Hollis looked up from her keyboard, her brows raised and her lips caught between her teeth.
She’s trying not to laugh.
The realization made Sveyn angry. “I spilled hot coffee on myself.”
Hollis snorted and reached for a tissue. “Sorry.”
George’s concern was obvious. “Did you get burned?”
“No.”
“That’s good.” The lawyer approached him. “How did it happen?”
Hollis coughed repeatedly with her mouth tightly closed. She quickly bent down and opened the bottom drawer, hiding her face behind the desk.
George turned to look at her. “Are you okay, Hollis?”
“Mm-hmm.” She waved a hand above the desktop. Even Sveyn could see her shoulders shaking.
George looked back at Sveyn. “What’s going on?”
In a flash Sveyn saw in his mind what Hollis must have seen: his tall frame walking straight into a steel door as if it were not there.
If he was not so embarrassed by making such a public mess, he might have laughed then as well.
The guffaw that burst from his chest now filled the office.
Hollis straightened in her chair like a jack-in-the-box sprung free. Her wide eyes met his for one shocked moment before her hilarity claimed her without mercy.
“He forgot he couldn’t walk through the door!” she squeaked between exhalations of mirth.
George stared at her like she was insane. “Couldn’t walk through which door?”
“No, not through the door,” she managed between gleeful spasms. “Through the door!”
George’s eyes cut back to Sveyn. “Through the door?”
Sveyn nodded, wiping his own amusement from his eyes. “I have a body now.”
Understanding shifted George’s features like a switch had been thrown. “Oh! Through the door! You tried to walk through a door?”
“And I walked into it, of course!” Sveyn roared, pressing a hand against his still-tender incision. “With a cup of coffee in my hand!”
Stevie appeared in the doorway, wiping her eyes as well; obviously she overheard their exchange.
“It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!” she cried. “This great big man just walking straight into a closed
door without even flinching!”
George stated to chuckle. “Funny, and very unexpected.”
“The look on his face!” Hollis wailed from her desk. “He looked so surprised!”
“I was surprised!” Sveyn shouted. “Å min gud! I shall never forget this…”
“Let’s hope not,” Stevie quipped, giggling uncontrollably in the doorway. “We don’t have that many coffee mugs!”
Chapter Eighteen
Saturday
January 30
Ten days had passed since Hollis discovered that the McKennas were not her actual parents, but she was no closer to accepting that fact than she was on the first day. Most of the time, she buried the unhappy thought under her work, but every time she said her name it impaled her again.
Once she and Sveyn were settled into their table by the window in the revolving restaurant atop a tall Phoenix hotel and had ordered a bottle of wine, Sveyn asked her what was bothering her.
Hollis looked into his beautiful blue eyes. “When you filled out your birth certificate application yesterday, whose names did you use for your parents?”
“I used my mother’s real name, Jorun Hansen.” His expression sobered a bit. “But in my back story I said I never knew my father, so I was forced to check unknown.”
“How did you feel about that?”
Sveyn wagged his head a little. “My father is long dead by now, but I know him in my heart. Checking a box does not change that.”
“That’s what’s bothering me.” Hollis drew a shuddering sigh. “I don’t know mine.”
“Yes, Hollis. You do.”
She recoiled, fearful of what he meant. “Is there another Hansen secret you haven’t told me?”
“No, nothing like that.” Sveyn shifted in his seat. “But I want you to tell me what people today believe a father is.”
“Sveyn,” she growled. “Don’t do this.”
The waiter approached with the wine and their conversation halted during the label-checking, uncorking, and pouring. Hollis looked out the window beside their table so she wouldn’t be drawn into any verbal interaction while she thought about Sveyn’s question.