Cantarella - DEMO

No big deal, as long as you weren't dealing with a boss who had expected you with his morning coffee ten minutes ago. The takeout cup was warm in her gloved hands, but the smell sent a wave of nausea through her and she had to swallow it back as she tried to recall where she was supposed to take it.

/=Upstairs. Second floor.=/

The elevator ride at least was pleasant. The gentle movement beneath her feet gave her a chance to take a few deep breaths and regain her thoughts before she faced Riordan again.

The hallways of the newest AMAR exhibition were wide eggshell white tile, lined with empty glass cases towering eight feet over Isla's petite frame. She tried not to think about how high up above them she was in the translucent elevator, especially given how upset her stomach was, but the view was beautiful behind the frosted glass. Statues of ancient Greek and Roman make fell from her line of sight as the office floors approached and the doors opened for the flustered girl.

It was a warm autumn day, but her skin felt chilled as she attempted to keep her stride toward where her draconian supervisor kept his office.

But there was pain in her stomach again; a low grumble behind her sternum that she knew she would have to get checked out by her physician soon. She paid it no mind as she opened the first door behind the /=Staff Only=/ sign.

Riordan stood within, over six feet of frustration as his gaze shifted from the photographs in his large hands to the woman in his office. "Miss McClelland," he said in a deep voice that reminded her of the Pharaonic statues downstairs, "Late again, I see."

Isla pointedly attempted to hide how flustered she had become during her journey with a bright smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm sorry, Dr. Riordan. My breakfast didn't agree with me."

He sighed, his honey brown eyes finally looking at her fully with their usual piercing intensity. "Well, hopefully, that coffee doesn't affect me the same way. I have to interview those interns today."

"Yes, Uncle Eugene mentioned that." Isla replied, "You should have two people interviewing for the program today. He asked me to tell you that Dr. Gallant will he taking the other two."

One thick dark eyebrow raised high on Riordan's head at that. "Why didn't he consult with me first, then?" he wondered aloud before shaking his head, "Don't answer that. Just tell Dr. Gallant to brief me when she-"

"There's no need for that." Neither one noticed the owner of the new voice until it was accompanied by two sharp knocks to the oak door behind Isla, accompanied by the soft /=clack=/ of low heels on the tiled floor. The aforementioned Dr. Gallant was staring at her with a grin that the girl could no decipher, and she felt herself flinch under the weight of it. "You can go, Isla."

Isla found herself nodding at the statuesque blonde, but said nothing. With gloved hands clammy beneath her fuzzy gloves, she placed the coffee cup on her boss' massive wooden desk and made her way to the exit just as he called after her.

"And please go see a doctor. We can't have you sick during the gala or the opening."

She realized with a wince that he was right, and that she had completely forgotten about the new mummification exhibition that was due to open in three days, let alone the charity gala. Her stomach flipped dangerously again as she made her hasty retreat.