Love in All the Right Places (Chick Lit bundle) (10 page)

Chapter Twelve

“STAND ON that spot and tell me if the board’s at eye level,” Gio instructed.

Min Hee rolled her eyes. “You can tell if it’s eye level yourself, can’t you?”

“Well, I’m hanging it,” he declared. “I’m too close to see. I need someone to tell if it’s straight or not.”

“Fine.” She headed to the spot that he had indicated earlier. “I can’t believe you’re bossing me around,” she grumbled, but she didn’t seem to be serious.

The two of them were at the museum putting on the finishing touches to the special exhibit. Min Hee stopped being a nuisance long enough to help out.  “Okay, tilt it up on the left just a little bit. No, too much… there. Although I bet no one is going to murder you for not hanging those boards on straight.”

Gio stepped back to survey his handiwork. “If you’re going to do something, you better do it right the first time,” he lectured.

After what had happened, Gio was sure that Min Hee was going to find something else to do with her time. To his surprise, she kept on coming back to the museum the next few afternoons. He tried to take his cue from her, to put that incident behind them and act like everything was normal. No one had brought up phones or acting since.

“Then why are you still doing this, instead of an exhibit on that artist you discovered?” she wanted to know.

Gio faced her slowly. The truth was, it had been on his mind since their trip to Puka Shell Beach. But he couldn’t just drop all his hard work to start on something else on a whim. “I get what you mean. Believe me I want that, too. But I can’t just replace this and start from scratch. Things like that need to be verified. A study has to be conducted on the significance of the items and of the artist herself. It’s not going to be easy, Min Hee.”

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t tried. You know, you’re always so smart and sure of yourself but you’re being stubborn about this,” she challenged him. “She was a Renaissance woman! How can anyone not be excited when you tell them that?”

“I don’t have time to do all that this late in the timetable,” Gio informed her. “I can’t do all that by myself.”

Min Hee put her hands on her hips. “I’m right here. Didn’t I say I’d give you a hand?”

He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t believe it at that time. “Still. We’re just two people. Even if the committee did give their approval, it will take months to bring it to this level.”

“What about Da Kyong? And Harold?” she pursued.

“Who?” Gio was genuinely puzzled.

Min Hee looked at him strangely. “Harold! The security officer. The young one who always checks in during the afternoon.”

“You mean Yeban?” he said. “So his name’s Harold? How’d you know that?”

She rolled her eyes again. “I asked. Seriously, what’s wrong with you, Mr. Museum? How can you not know anything about your friend?”

That was a new one. In all the time he had worked here, he hadn’t really thought he had made a friend. It wasn’t because he hadn’t wanted to, but it wasn’t because he had tried hard either. He had always thought that the other employees treated him differently because he was also a Torres, like the resort’s owners. The concept of having friends here was far from his mind. Until now.

But he was getting derailed again, and he had had enough of that the past few weeks. “Well, we’ve come this far on this exhibit. I have to see it through.”

“We don’t have to. We can keep on working on this. It’s almost done anyway. Leave it to me while you do your research and your budget and whatever it is you need to convince people that this is a good thing,” she suggested.

“It could work…”

“Just think about it, Gio,” Min Hee urged. He was still considering her suggestion that he didn’t notice sooner that she had called him by name.

“Besides, you said it yourself,” she continued. “If you’re going to do something, you better do it right the first time. This is doing it right the first time. This is not settling for something less than what you want. This is pursuing what you think is a significant subject, one that will probably teach people about your province and its people. So. What do you say?”

“Don’t you ever take no for an answer?” he told her.

Min Hee grinned. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s an ‘I’ll show them what we found,’” he replied. “It’s not a guarantee—”

“But it’s a start,” she finished for him.

* * * *

For the nth time since yesterday, Gio wondered why he had let Min Hee talk him into this. He had worn the shirt Min Hee had gotten and a pair of freshly pressed slacks—well, they had been ironed before he had gotten into a van—so that he could make a good impression on the committee. They had agreed to see him at the museum, before it opened.

The committee consisted of the following people: Sir Frank’s wife Teresa, niece to Ex-Governor Anding Torres; her older brother Simeon, who ran Aqua Resort’s daily operations; his philanthropist wife Carol; and two other relatives who weren’t in the province. Sir Frank was also there, by some miracle. They were all pleasant people, but running the heritage committee wasn’t exactly high on their priority list.

He began with updates on the Anding Torres exhibit. They all seemed rather pleased at how that was turning out. He even walked them through the museum, to show them how he was displaying the items.

“You’ve done a great job, Gio,” Sir Frank praised him. “But if you had wanted to bring us up to speed, you could have just texted or emailed.”

He cleared his throat. “The reason why I had asked you to come here was because I felt you had to see this for yourselves.” He walked over to a frame on a chair, hidden beneath a thin white blanket. When he slipped the blanket off, there was Caridad Melchor’s framed watercolor of Anding Torres. He watched the committee’s expressions closely, and their surprise and approval emboldened his cause.

“It’s an amazing likeness,” Auntie Teresa gushed. “The expression on Papang Anding’s face seems very real. Where did you find this, Gio?”

“In the home of a talented artist,” he replied. “There are other sketches of the ex-governor there, as a young man. There are also lots of black-and-white photographs. There is even a piña handkerchief woven and embroidered just for him.”

He took out his phone and showed them a sample of the other sketches, especially of the ones in Yapak. Even though the images were small, he knew that they were just as impressed by the landscapes and portraits that came alive under her hand.

Uncle Simeon nodded. “That sounds like a good discovery. Why aren’t we including it in the exhibit?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask all of you first.” Gio took a deep breath. “I would like to propose that we create a special section devoted to Caridad Melchor and the first documented paintings of Boracay.”

Maybe he had been too dramatic. He hadn’t meant to be. He had even intended to mumble Caridad Melchor’s name in the hopes that no one would hear it clearly and they’d all give their approval. But as he had anticipated, the name had an impact on Uncle Simeon and Auntie Teresa, and even Uncle Simeon’s wife knew the significance.

“Hmmm.” Uncle Simeon fumbled for words. “Well, Gio, despite this rather intriguing chain of events, I don’t think our museum is the right venue for this.”

“I know that these paintings still need to be properly dated and documented and I have to finish paperwork on the accessioning,” Gio said. “But I’d like the opportunity to try to get things ready by our exhibition launch. I feel that this is a good step not just for the museum, but as a significant part of our local history.”

Auntie Teresa walked closer to him. “This isn’t like you, Gio. I thought you understood that we needed to approach things conservatively.”

“I do understand you, Gio,” Auntie Carol interrupted. “But as Teresa said, we’d like to exercise a little caution. You also have to understand that we are also a family museum. It just doesn’t seem proper to showcase that here, especially at this event. Perhaps you can find another venue for the collection. Maybe in Kalibo or Iloilo.”

Gio tried to rally himself. “Before I revealed the artist’s identity to you, we all seemed to be in agreement over her talent. Nothing has really changed.” He squared his shoulders. “It doesn’t need to be in time for the Governor Torres’ exhibit. But maybe in the future. I do think that it’s time we considered what our goals are, as a museum. We have a chance to contribute greatly to documenting the island’s history. I do hope you would all reconsider.”

Sir Frank nodded slowly. “We’ll need some time to think about it, Gio. Do you mind giving us a chance to talk privately before the museum opens?”

Gio let out a slow breath. “Yes, sir. I’ll just get this out of the way,” he said, walking over to where the painting was.

Sir Frank raised a hand. “No, leave it. We’d all like to look at it some more.”

Gio nodded to everyone and slipped out of the museum. Well, he did his best. It was now all up to the committee. He could hear them in hushed conversation just as he closed the door. It was only when he stepped out onto the sandy path did he feel the tension ease from his shoulders. And before he even knew it, he already had his phone out and was dialing a number.

“Hey,” he said when Min Hee answered.

“Hey yourself, Mr. Museum,” Min Hee greeted. “What’s up… oh! The presentation! It was this morning, right? How did it go?”

“Not too good,” he admitted then told her everything. However disappointed he was for how things had gone earlier, he soon discovered that unloading to Min Hee was a relief. She asked a few questions now and then, but she really just let him talk.

The committee wasn’t done yet when he ended the call, so he wandered off to the kitchen to grab some juice. He was still there when one of the servers called him. “Sir Gio? You have a guest.”

He stepped out of the kitchen and headed towards the museum. Standing by the steps was Min Hee, a small box in her hands.

“You’re early,” he said, unable to keep the grin off his face.

“I could imagine your eyebrows meeting at the center of your forehead. I thought you could use some cheering up before your face ended up like that permanently,” she replied. “Here.”

She had gotten him some calamansi muffins. On top of the box was a napkin where she had drawn his caricature with a speech balloon that said
‘Gio is awesome!’
He had to smile at the gesture. “Thanks,” he said gratefully, sitting down on the museum steps. After a second, Min Hee followed suit.

“Have you had breakfast?” he asked, opening the box but holding it out for her. “I could get you coffee.”

She shook her head. “I bought that for you.”

Min Hee patted Gio’s knee and kept her hand resting lightly there. They sat there in companionable silence, letting the sights and sounds of the beach just wash over them. He bit into a muffin. Backpackers walked along the street, weighted down by their huge knapsacks. A tricycle with a board strapped across its roof rattled by. A family of local tourists came back from their morning excursion and headed straight for the breakfast buffet. Above them, the warm island sun slid past the protective shade of the coconut trees and cast light shadows across their faces. It seemed like the most ordinary of mornings, yet Gio could smell the sea and vanilla in the air and they made everything come alive.

His finger nudged hers. When she didn’t protest, he slowly slid a strong hand over hers, fingers locking into the spaces between. They were both looking elsewhere, as if trying not to care about contact and intimacy and things that trembled. But Gio quickly glanced down to see her creamy hand tucked beneath his large, tanned one. Creamy. He was starting to like that word now.

“Ahem.”

Gio didn’t even hear the museum door open. He got to his feet hastily, careful not to knock the muffins over. He turned to see Sir Frank stepping out of the museum and looking at the two of them curiously. Gio made the introductions. “Uncle Frank, this is my friend Min Hee. Min Hee, my Uncle Frank.”

“Min Hee, Min Hee, ah! I remember you,” Uncle Frank said. “The model, right? We spoke on the phone. So you’re friends with Gio then?”

“Only recently,” Gio replied, a little embarrassed.

Then Sir Frank’s expression turned serious. “We’d like to speak with Gio inside. Would you excuse us, miss?”

The two of them watched Sir Frank enter. Gio turned to Min Hee nervously. “Well. Guess this is it.”

She nodded. “I know.” That was when he realized that they were still holding hands. She gave his a squeeze. Then to his surprise, she stood on tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “For luck. Don’t get any ideas.”

“I won’t.” But he grinned all the way inside the museum.

This time, facing the committee didn’t seem all that intimidating for Gio. He barely even registered when they agreed to include the portrait of Anding Torres in the upcoming collection. As for the rest of the paintings, they had agreed to a budget for a later exhibit. Auntie Teresa seemed to have yielded once it was pointed out that it didn’t have to coincide with the governor’s launch, so that the family’s feathers wouldn’t be ruffled.

“We may not have the resources for marketing the new art collection or even for a big launch,” Uncle Simeon warned him, “but the budget should be enough for the acquisition and any other details. Can you do it?”