The Dragon's Hunt. Jane Kindred
“Are you inked?”
One hand slid out of its pocket, going for the forelock once more. “This was a bad idea.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge?” Rhea handed him her tablet and switched over to the job application. “It doesn’t have to be super detailed. I’m just looking for someone with a demonstrated ability to hold down a job. And someone who’s personable.” She gave him a pointed look to let him know that so far he hadn’t passed the test for the latter.
His sky blues lit up with an engaging smile. “I can be personable.”
“We’ll see.” Rhea turned her stool toward the credenza behind her, making a point of going back to her drawing and paying him no attention. The rider on the most prominent horse took shape under her pen, the wild hair and eyes she remembered from her vision—eyes that bore a striking resemblance to her applicant’s—the rugged furs, the upraised sword—
“All done.”
She started at the second interruption. She hadn’t expected to get drawn so deeply into the image so quickly.
Her determined would-be employee slid the tablet across the counter toward her when she looked up. “There wasn’t that much to fill in, to be honest. I just moved here, so none of it’s local—I don’t have a permanent address yet. But I’m dependable.” He gave Rhea that amiable smile once more. A little too amiable for her taste. It gave the impression he wasn’t too bright.
She took the tablet and looked it over. Leo Ström had waited tables at a family restaurant chain in Flagstaff for a few months, bagged groceries in Tucson over the summer, worked as a lab assistant at the University of Arizona for a semester. He also had a degree in biology from Stockholm University.
Rhea glanced up. “You studied in Sweden?”
Leo shrugged. “I’ve lived all over the place.”
“And what made you come here?”
“Ley lines.”
He said it with a grin, but Rhea couldn’t help rolling her eyes. It was bad enough when tourists treated the town like a wacky sideshow, but people who moved here strictly for the metaphysical ambiance could be even worse.
“Kidding.” Leo smiled. “When I dropped out of the grad program at NAU, I decided I wanted to regroup in a place that spoke to me. And Sedona...” He shrugged. “Spoke to me.”
It was still kinda ley lines. “What were you studying in grad school?”
Leo gave her a peculiar look. Had she already asked that question?
“Molecular biology.”
“No kidding? My sister’s in the molecular biology grad program at NAU.”
Leo laughed awkwardly. Maybe he thought she was making fun of him somehow.
“Seriously. She’s studying autosomal recessive neurodegenerative disorders in rats or something.”
“Are you...?” Leo’s hand was in his hair again. He looked completely flustered. “I thought...” He shook his head, the flustered expression turning to a look of understanding as his pale skin went pink. “You’re not Theia, are you?”
Now it all made sense. She wasn’t usually this slow on the uptake, but over the last four years of living more than a hundred and fifty miles apart, she’d become less accustomed to being mistaken for her twin.
“You know Theia.”
Leo nodded, combing his fingers through his hair. “This is embarrassing.”
“When you said ‘ghosted’...”
“We met on Tinder. We went out a couple of times, but I kind of stopped answering her texts because things got weird. I mean, not weird. We just weren’t hitting it off.” He exhaled deeply. “Oh, boy.”
All the times some guy had mistaken her for Theia in high school came crashing back. Theia was the “sweet” one, the normal one who didn’t dress weird or act like a clown, and guys were always falling for her. And more often than Rhea cared to recall, they had run into her somewhere and taken her for Theia, treating her the way guys usually didn’t treat Rhea. Then they’d realize they were talking to the “other one” and the disappointment would be palpable and awkward.
“I made this weird, didn’t I?” Leo tucked his hands back into his pockets. “Sorry. I hope you find someone to fill the position. Take care.” He was walking away again.
Anger flared inside her, irrational and childish but impossible to suppress. “So Theia was good enough to bang for a while, but I’m chopped liver.” Damn. Why did she have to say that out loud?
Leo’s shoulders stiffened as he reached the door, and he turned back with a miserable look of discomfort. “Look, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s me. Sorry. I’m totally overreacting.” Rhea sighed, setting the tablet on the counter. “You just triggered some stupid childhood drama.” She tried to laugh it off. “Should we try this again? Rhea Carlisle.” She held out her hand.
Leo squared his shoulders and came back to the counter. “Nice to meet you, Rhea Carlisle.” He smiled as he shook her hand. “I’m Leo Ström.”
“Yeah, I know.” Rhea indicated the tablet with a nod of her head when Leo looked suspicious. “It’s on the application.”
“Right.” He laughed, still a bit awkward but more at ease.
“So what’s your availability?”
“My availability?”
“For the job. What hours would you be available to work? I’m open seven days.”
Leo’s eyes widened within the wire frames. “You’d actually hire me after this disaster?”
“It’s hardly your fault someone Xeroxed your ex-girlfriend.” Without telling you, apparently. Which was a new low for Theia.
“Whoa. Wait. She’s not my ex-girlfriend.”
“Oh, so you’re still seeing her.” Rhea laughed at the look of mortification on his face as he stuttered, trying to answer. “I’m just giving you crap. I need someone to work about twenty hours a week to help get the place in shape and book appointments, mostly mornings, occasionally closing if you prove trustworthy.” She winked at his expression. “Sound okay to you?”
“Uh, yeah.” Slightly bemused, he took her outstretched hand once more and shook on it. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks.”
“You didn’t ask what it pays.”
“At this point, I’m thinking maybe I shouldn’t press my luck.” Leo grinned as he pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Tomorrow morning, then?”
She was probably going to regret this. Honestly, she was already regretting it. Why hadn’t she just let him walk away? An entanglement of Theia’s was the last thing she needed.
Rhea put on a professional smile. “Morning is a relative term. Eleven o’clock sharp. We open at noon.”
* * *
The temperature, mild when she’d set out this morning, had dropped precipitously by the time she headed home, and the first snow of the season was falling. Not heavy enough to cover the ground yet, but if it kept up, it might have some staying power by morning. She wasn’t looking forward to snow driving after spending the last five years in Tempe. Especially now that she’d chosen to live in Cottonwood, half an hour from her shop. Not that choosing was precisely the word for it. The tiny apartment was all she could afford, especially without