Evidence of Desire: Hero Series 3 (2 page)

“What?”

“Yup. We now have some new spider exhibit with a grand opening at the end of the week.”

“Well, maybe that will be exciting?” Charmagne was always the positive one, looking on the brighter side of things.

“What doesn’t make things exciting is the fact they are having a sponsors party the night before to show-off the new wing. I was practically forced to attend.” She went to the microwave to reheat her food.

“It can’t be that bad. You’ll get a chance to socialize with your coworkers….something you
never
do,” Charmagne chastised.

She closed the microwave with a snap. Her friend was correct. Sonya was pretty much a loner. Keeping to herself and her research, but it was a curator thing, most people didn’t understand. “Ha. It can’t be. It is a masquerade, kind of a Hallows Eve theme.”

“You hate Halloween…and costumes.”

“Exactly!” Setting the oven for a couple minutes, she leaned back against the counter. “So, now I get to spend Friday night playing ‘guess who’s behind the mask’.”

“Oh, Sonya. That sucks.”

“It sure does.”

“What are you planning to go as? Please let it be something exciting like Eartha Kitt cat woman.” Charmagne’s voice was laced with excitement.

“Uh, no.” She shook her head profusely.

The microwave beeped.

“Have no worries, Charmagne. I’ll figure out something before Friday night.”

“And that’s what worries me. You’ll go in your regular work clothes and call yourself Sonya Watson taking all the fun out of it.” Charmagne bemoaned.

Sonya laughed. “Probably. Anyway, you go put your feet up. You deserve it on so many levels. Tell, Charles hello.”

“I will do that. I love you, girl.”

“Same here.”

After the call, Sonya found herself back on her couch finishing her dinner with not a single thought about Friday, the museum or what costume she was going to where. Like she did for anything that didn’t involve African art, she shoved it into a junk closet in the back of her mind.

~ML~

Friday night, Sonya walked up the front steps of the museum following the line of other guest. She had opted for wearing one of her formal African dresses instead of a costume. The people in line before her were dressed in everything from 1800 historical figures to the Grim Reaper.

She shook her head.
This would be a long night.

“Ms. Watson, you look…great.” Stacey, dressed as Aphrodite, with way too much cleavage showing, scrunched her nose at Sonya’s outfit.

Stepping inside, she gave her ticket to Stacey. Forcing a smile on her mouth that she hoped would stay up all night, Sonya eyed the woman. “Thanks. You look…” Slutty. “Greek.”

Stacey beamed and wiggled her shoulders up and down, for some unknown reason. “I’m Aphrodite. The goddess of amore.” Stacey winked at someone behind her.

“I see.” Sonya couldn’t help the prudish tone of her voice as she glanced back to see Roger Lux the curator of the Greek antiquities department returning the admissions clerk heated stare.

Roger was dressed as Zeus and in a half face mask, but his distinct long blond and gray beard gave him away.

Rolling her eyes, Sonya entered the museum and headed toward the atrium where the party was set up. Seeing Roger and Stacey fawning over each other was exactly why she hated costume parties. People dropped all decorum and ethics in them. Sonya could imagine how many dark corners of the museum would be utilized tonight.

The atrium was brimming with people and loud pop music. Some individuals Sonya could pick out, others took her more than a minute.

“Sonya!”

Hearing her name, she turned and spotted a tall man from across the area dressed as the Phantom from Phantom of the Opera. The half masked obscured the features and from the distance she couldn’t tell who it was. He was standing with other men, she assumed by their build and size, in various costumes—Spiderman, Captain Hook, Sponge Bob and there was even someone wearing a suit and a Sedar head.

She waved back and went toward the long table of finger food pretending she didn’t see him beckoning her across the room. Since she had not eaten since lunch, trying to figure what to wear at the last minute, she was starving.

“Hi, boss lady.”

Grabbing a small plate she turned to the side. There young man, her archives technician, was dressed as King Tut with only a small gold demi mask over his eyes. “Simeon. You look great my king.” She joked.

Simeon’s smile took up most of his face. “Thanks. Your costume is a great rendition of Barbara Tyrrell’s
Mfengu, Fingo, Woman
.”

Sonya stepped out of line and closer to him to allow the people behind her a chance at the food. She glanced down at the deep red and cream of her beaded and braided attire. It didn’t surprise her that her assistant would pick on her outfit. The young, thin, white male was savvy when it came to African American history and African art, it had been his emphasis in college. His knowledge and passion almost matched hers, it was the reason she had hired him over other candidates. “I’m hoping it will stand as a reminder to Kravers about the grant.”

“If he gets it.” Simeon shook his head.

“True.” It was doubtful that the director would understand her message. “Have you seen him?” 

“Yes. He’s Captain Hook.”

She recalled him in the group of men earlier. “I think I saw him.”

“Well, I’ll let you get something to eat. I’m going to take my girlfriend on the dancefloor.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I’ll bring her by after that.”

Glancing passed him, in the direction he indicated, she saw a full-figured black woman, dressed in a gold embroidered garb. “She is…”

“The Queen of Sheba.”

“Ah.”  She smiled, offering the approval she knew he was looking for. Latasha was first year math teacher at one of the city’s middle school. Sonya had no doubt her costume was Simeon’s idea. “Nice touch. I’ll come find you and Latasha after I get something in my stomach.”

“Perfect.” He headed back to the small group where his girlfriend chatted with others.

An hour later, she found herself cornered by The Phantom. “I didn’t think I’d ever get a moment away from Kravers and the Mayor to come and talk to you.”

“Hello, Daryl, nice to see you.” Daryl Marcs was a Charlotte Councilman. He was a tall, dark skinned brother with dark brown eyes and a wee cut fade. The white mask he wore looked striking against his deep complexion. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am, now that I’m in your presence.” He gave her a smile as he moved closer to her. Not touching, but definitely an intimate posture.

She glanced over her shoulder, taking in the people in the room. She’d never been one to put her business in the streets and whom she might be dating or not was definitely her business. She and Daryl had been off and on for a few months. There were a lot of things she liked about him, they had a few things in common like the theater, but there had never really been any kind of spark between them. Something was always missing.

However, she hadn’t written him off completely. Maybe she just wasn’t giving him a fair shake. He’d been the first person she had dated for a long time. She had been focused on her career in the last years, but Daryl had been persistent from the start—calling her, leaving her notes at the museum or sending flowers to her house. Finally, she had agreed to go out with him, but after months there was still nothing.

Give him a chance.
She pressured herself. With all her girlfriends getting married and having children, she was looking at a future alone if she didn’t allow someone in.

There was a small, back corner of her heart that still echoed and ached from things in the past. Something she tried to keep buried and only pull out on the grayest of days when she just needed to remember when things had seemed perfect in her life and full of hope.

As she began to turn back to face Daryl someone caught her gaze. Across the room, still talking to The Mayor was someone dressed as Spiderman. The distance was too great but it almost seemed as if he was staring at her, bold. She felt a tingle along her spine at the intense look.

“So, do you want to?”

“What? I’m sorry.” She looked at Daryl again. “I missed what you were saying, sorry.”

“Dance. I asked you to dance with me.”

She glanced at the mass of bodies swaying and jostling around on the dancefloor. “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Please, Sonya. Loosen up a little. This is a party.” He took hold of her hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

It wasn’t what she wanted to do, but she didn’t want to seem like a stick in the mood either. She wasn’t sure who most people were at this event. Knowing Kravers he had many financial backers present. The last thing she wanted them to think was that she wasn’t sociable. She’d smile and attempt to woo them until she got permission for her African Artifacts division. “Okay. One dance.”

“Two.” He winked at her and pulled Sonya to the floor before she would change her mind and go hide out in her office.

However, that would be the first place Kravers would send someone to look for her.

When they got onto the dance floor, she was happy to hear a blast from the past begin. She didn’t dance well to current pop music so when an old Chaka Khan song played, Sonya allowed herself to enjoy the moment.

“See isn’t this better than hiding in the corner?” Daryl asked, pitching his voice over the music.

Allowing a small smile on her lips, she agreed. “Yes, it is.” It had been such a long time since she had let herself go for a moment. Maybe it was because most of the people around her were in masks. Their faces were covered and she couldn’t pick one co-worker or guest out from another. Perhaps there was something to a masquerade party after all.

After two songs with Daryl she accepted a dance from Simeon and then took a chance with a man dressed as the Long Ranger. His moves weren’t the best and he kept stepping forward when she went up and inadvertently clamoring all over her toes. The man apologized profusely, but she waved it off and gritted out a smile until the song ended.

The entire time she moved with the crowd on the floor she had that feeling as if someone was watching her. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled, but every time she glanced around, she didn’t see anyone that was fixated on her.

Even Daryl was busy with Stacey on the floor and wasn’t paying Sonya any attention at all.

It is just my imagination.
She brushed the feeling away.

When the song finally ended, she excused herself to head to the ladies room to escape the man asking her for a second dance. Her toes would never survive it. After a few moments in the bathroom, she made her way out of the crowded space. She started back toward the atrium, she groaned for her aching toes. When she passed the door to the Planetarium, she checked the handle. When she found it open, she slipped inside. Her co-workers would easily locate her in her office and storage area, but she could steal a few moments of peace in here.

The room was dark, cool, and a few stars twinkled in the dome ceiling. She wished she knew what buttons to push in the control center for the place so she could have more stars sparklingly and maybe stare up at the constellations.

“Oh, well.” This would have to do. She went down the main row and located one of the seats. She could have sworn her feet actually sighed as she took her weight off them. In the dark she felt around the side of the arm of the chair and felt for the button to lower the chair. Soon, she was reclined back, stretched out and comfortable. The few stars the flashed in the ceiling gave an eerie stillness to the room. She wasn’t afraid of the darkness and allowed her mind to drift with no clear destination of thought.

Soon, she drifted into a relaxed sleep.

Something roused her senses and filled her dreams. It was the scent of sandalwood and another material she couldn’t pinpoint, but it was familiar. Teasing and beckoning her from some place within. She always loved that scent on men. It was sweet, subtle and seductive. Her mind drifted back to the first time she smelled it, and recognized the scent—freshman year in college. In one of her classes, she couldn’t recall if it was biology or chemistry, but they had been discussing the impact of smells on the brain, which led to physical reactions. Some of the things they had to smell were horrible, burning the nose or making her and classmates nauseous. When they got to sandalwood oil it did something to her, made her feel warm and safe. Those were feelings she’d never experienced when she was growing up.

So, a month later when they had a winter ball on campus, and she was asked to dance by a guy, and he wore it, she was shocked to discover it also made her feel desire. Being held in his arms while the DJ played a Maxwell song made her heart leap, everything felt right in the world. That guy had become a permanent fixture in her life for a long time.

Only because she was dreaming she allowed her mind to sink further into the past. She could hear the way he would whisper her name. It always reminded her of a night birds song to its lover. That no one else was important but their mate.