Make Me Whole (2 page)

He called out to his personal assistant, Suzane Eberly, as he grabbed a crowbar. “I thought we weren’t going to have the pieces for the new exhibit shipped until Ella had a chance to do the mural. Are any of the boys still here? I’m going to need some help.”

The crates looked as if they’d been waiting at the bottom of the abyss, with dried-up algae and barnacles clinging to the sides. The metal banding had rusted through in some parts, making it easy to pull off. The wooden slats were gray with age, the nails holding them down also rusted. Galen began prying off the lid to the nearest crate. He’d take a quick peek, no more, before help arrived, just long enough to assuage his burning curiosity. Nothing set his mind going with possibilities like an unopened box.

The slats cracked and splintered the moment he applied pressure, so Galen stopped to put on a pair of gloves before Suzane saw and threw a fit. He’d managed to get most of the lid removed in sections by the time he heard her heels coming toward the storeroom. “Where the hell did those come from?” Suzane demanded from the doorway.

Galen set aside the crowbar with a clatter and pulled off the top before he peered over his shoulder at her. She had her brunette wig on this morning, pulled back into an elegant twist, and was still on her power suit kick. Oh boy. That meant she was in her no-nonsense mood, and that wasn’t nearly as interesting as her blonde hippie days.

“I have no idea,” he admitted, yanking out handfuls of moldy straw. “Isn’t it cool? And I don’t care either, as long as it fits the new exhibit. It’s missing something.” He paused and gestured with his hands, trying to visualize it. “A center point to build the rest of the exhibit around. It’s been driving me nuts. No matter how much I rework the layout on paper, I can’t picture it as a whole.”

Suzane examined each of the crates, then turned to Galen with a frown, her eyebrows drawn together and her gray eyes far away. She probably had a checklist in her mind to match the one in her ever-present folder. “Where’s the shipping information?”

“Didn’t see any.” His fingers encountered layers of wool, and the thrill of discovery made his heart leap. Galen pulled out his pocketknife, then sliced with care through the padding. “Come on, baby,” he crooned low under his breath, “show me what you’ve got.”

“Four crates mysteriously appear in the middle of a locked storeroom, with no shipping information, and you’re not in the least bit suspicious,” Suzane said in exasperation and smacked him on the arm with her folder. “You are familiar with the story of the Trojan Horse, aren’t you?”

Galen nodded, only half listening as the gleam of metal appeared under the wool. He put away his knife and peeled back each layer. “Yeah, Greek story, right? Big horse, bad things. It would be amazing if this fits the new exhibit theme. Do you think it’s that old? The crate is falling apart.”

“If they were that old somebody would be clamoring for their return. Ancient relics just don’t pop up out of nowhere.” Suzane took the shred of blanket he handed her and wrinkled her nose. “Personally, I think it’s a prank. Who packs art in straw and old wool these days? It’s a hoax.”

The last layer of the blanket fell away to reveal a full-sized statue of a man in ancient armor; Galen’s breath caught. “Oh my, my, my, he’s beautiful. Help me get him out. I want to see him in the light.”
Nick would love to see this.
Galen shook his head with a pang of regret. It seemed like everything these days reminded him of the lover he’d walked away from. It was true, though; Nick would have gone into spasms of joy over this beauty. He had a passion for ancient art and a love for wreck diving. How he ended up as an HR manager still confused Galen.

“Wait a minute.” Suzane grabbed his arm when he reached to pull out the statue. “For the love of God, let me get you some help before you hurt it or yourself.” The thought of damaging the statue made Galen pause. “And while we’re waiting for the boys, we’re going to have a nice discussion about where these came from and what you plan on doing with them.”

Galen ran his hands over the statue, humming to himself as Suzane disappeared from the doorway. The statue was cast from some kind of metal, bronze most likely, with a nice verdigris, but it was hard to tell in the shadows. He hoped Suzane would be able to find some helpers. There were usually people hanging out in the attached studio every day either working on their own art, admiring others’ projects, or just enjoying a safe place to hang out. And if Knox was in today, that would be even better, since he worked for an art moving company and would know what to do and have the equipment to do it.

To distract himself, Galen pulled out the layout sheet that he had stuck in the back pocket of his worn jeans. After a few moments of searching, he located the pen behind his ear and began rearranging and making notes, though he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with the flow of the exhibit until he saw what was in the other crates. If they were anything like the statue, he’d have to get them up, fiddle with the arrangement itself instead of looking at it on paper. It was only February. He still had several months to get it together. Ella’s mural came first.

Suzane returned and launched into a lecture about proper documentation, verification, and dating. There were probably some other things mixed in there, but they slipped his mind almost as soon as he heard them. He nodded, made assuring sounds, and scribbled while she talked. Knox had to hurry up; if he didn’t get all of those statues out of the boxes soon he was going to jump out of his skin. This was better than the Christmas when he was ten, when he was so sure that the giant box in the garage had held a new bike.

“What do you think?” Galen asked as he stepped back and gestured toward the layout with a flourish.

“Mr. K? You needed something?” Knox Marwick hovered in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the space. He was a big kid, taller than Nick…. Galen broke off the thought with an inward groan. Five months, three weeks and six days, and still Galen thought about him more every day. He couldn’t pinpoint when that had started happening.

“There you are! You have to come see this.” Galen grinned at Knox and waved toward the crates. “Would you get the statue free and help me see what’s in the other crates? Like right this minute? I get the impression that I’m going to be contracting you to move and set them up for me. But I need to see them to be sure.”

“Not a problem. It shouldn’t take me long to break them down. If you want, I can call my boss and see if they can send some extra men when you want to haul them to the exhibit room.”

“That would be great.” Galen grabbed his layout sheet and squeezed by him. “Suzane and I will get out of your way.”

“What’s the point in looking at your new layout when you’re just going to change it again? You won’t stop playing around with it until everything is in place.” Suzane leaned over to study the doorknob and lock on the storeroom door. “It doesn’t look like it’s been tampered with.”

“Why would anyone break in just to leave art behind instead of stealing it? I’m sure we’ll find the paperwork once it’s all cleared away.” He handed Suzane his layout and she took it with a sigh. “You have to admit, it’s missing something.”

“Yes, only I doubt this trouble-waiting-to-happen is going to fill that void.”

Galen’s eyes fell on the uncovered first statue. A sense of reverent awe filled him and his jaw dropped. The man stood with his legs spread slightly apart, his arms outstretched and curled as if he had been in the midst of an embrace. Sunlight streamed through the window, giving the metal a burnished, glowing quality. The aged bronze with a nice warm patina made Galen’s fingertips itch to caress it. “Oh wow, will you look at him? He’s perfect.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty hot.” Knox carried out the sections of crate and the shreds of wool. “I’ll be right back to get the rest.”

Galen moved closer and ran his hand over the man’s muscled arm. The metal was smooth and strangely warm. His hair lay in a shaggy mess about his head, which was tilted to one side, his lips parted and pursed. He made Galen think of kissing. It had been too long since he’d been kissed just right. He only had himself to blame. He’d been the one to put a temporary moratorium on casual flings. That was after he’d broken things off with Nick only to wonder
what if
too many times when he was alone at night.

“I think you’re crazy if you intend on actually making this a part of the exhibit.” Suzane came up beside him and gave his shoulder a shake. “You don’t even know if it’s authentic or not, or how old it is, or why someone would just give it to you with no information or explanation. It’s going to come back and bite you in the ass, I just know it.”

“Bites on the ass can be fun.”

Suzane smacked him with the folder. “You’re incorrigible. I’m serious. You’ve sunk your entire inheritance into this museum. I’m not going to let you ruin all your hard work because someone dangled a statue of a half-naked muscled man in front of you.”

“The authenticity can be researched.” Galen flashed a smile at her. “That’s what you’re good at. I want you to find everything you can about him. As for who our mysterious donor is and why they were so generous, I don’t care. If I ever meet them I’m going to kiss him or her.”

“People don’t give things for nothing.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure? Besides, the upcoming exhibit is new homoerotic interpretations on the ancient world, so even if it isn’t old it’ll still work.”

Suzane groaned. “You don’t even know if it’s homoerotic or not. Remember the theme for your museum? Gay love, sex, and life? You can’t have a centerpiece for a new exhibit that runs counter to what you’ve established. Not after all the work we’ve put into making a name for it.”

Galen knelt down to examine all the glorious little details, the ridged lines on the man’s legs indicating scars, the realism in his hands as they gripped someone who had disappeared long ago. “I’m not sure about erotic; maybe the second half is in another crate,” he mused, though for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how they’d fit together, much less how they’d come apart in the first place. “But there are definite gay overtones.”

“And what makes you think that other than wishes and a dirty mind?”

Galen twisted and looked up at her as he pointed to the base of the statue. “There are two discarded helmets, which makes me think two men are involved.”

“Damn, you’re right.” Suzane sighed and pulled out her phone. “Okay, I’ll look into it. I have to admit, he looks Hellenic in style.”

Knox returned and began working on the second crate. The nails screamed in protest when he pulled apart the top and it fell apart. Galen gave Suzane a grateful smile. “Did I tell you that I like your new brunette do?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m immune to your sad attempt at flattery.”

“Go do whatever you have to do to prove me right. Please, prove me right. Get whatever tests and research you need. These statues are to stay on site. Whatever funding or overtime you need, it’s approved. You’re the best; I’ve told you that, right? I’d be lost without you.”

Suzane made an exasperated sound, though her eyes lit up with pleasure. “Yeah, I know. You need me. I’ll work on getting this big boy dated.” A wicked smile crossed her lips. “Hey, maybe you should call what’s-his-name who you refuse to mention. That wreck diver. ’Cause these statues look like they came from one, and he might have some insights.”

“You’re an evil woman.” Before Galen could say anything else, the second statue was revealed, the same man, now naked in every glorious detail and fully aroused. “Oh my God, just look at him. Can you freaking believe it, Knox? People are going to come here in droves just to see him.”

“You have to put these statues in your exhibit.” Knox came to stand beside him. “Don’t let her talk you out of it. You’re the owner, right?”

“Galen!”

“I’m the owner, she’s the boss.” Galen tore his eyes away and pulled out his cell phone. “Looks like I have some calls to make. Shout when the rest are uncovered.”

“Will do, Mr. K.”

Galen climbed to the top of the tower to his office. He loved this small square room, the highest point in the old firehouse that he’d bought and renovated. A huge half-circle window dominated two sides of the room and the other sides contained two more windows next to each other so he had an almost panoramic view of the Seattle neighborhood. He’d left the exposed brick walls alone, and, with the polished wood floors, they gave the room a homey feeling.

He propped his feet up on his desk as he stared at his cell phone. He should call his lawyer, have him look into any insurance claims, see what it would take to keep the statues in-house. He would keep them no matter what it took.

Nicholas Charisteas. Galen’s thoughts drifted right back to the man who refused to get out of his head. He hadn’t spoken to him in months. He doubted Nick would want to hear from him now, even if he had left him an open invitation to contact him when he got his head out of his ass.

Galen smiled and tapped his phone against his cheek. He’d deserved that. And a fired-up, passionate Nick took his breath away. He scrolled through his contacts until he came to Nick’s name—the only one of his flings that he’d programmed in there.

This wasn’t the first time he’d looked up his number, and once again he hesitated. There would be no way around things getting complicated. He didn’t know if he was ready for complicated. And it wouldn’t be fair to come bursting back into Nick’s life if he wasn’t. Of course, there was always the possibility he was being too arrogant. Nick might have zero interest in him after all this time.

Galen hit Send before he could change his mind and his stomach jumped when the phone rang. What was he thinking? To his consternation and relief, a young man answered, and it took Galen a moment to unscramble his brain long enough to realize that he’d accidentally called Nick’s work instead of his cell.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Charisteas is in a meeting. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Just tell him Galen Kanellis called.” He paused and his stomach sank further. He was an idiot. This was stupid. And Nick was going to laugh his ass off if he knew how much he had tied himself into knots over a simple phone call that Galen would’ve shrugged off six months ago.