Trista didn’t say anything.
Suddenly Aida wasn’t sure if she should leave her assistant alone with Mo. She seemed oddly vulnerable.
“You have, you know it. You are always missing me,” he said, giving the woman a light sock on the arm. “I came to see how our newest employee is faring.”
“She’s settling in very well,” Trista said. “But I’ve told you that already.”
Mo shrugged. “I had to see it for myself.”
“She’s right,” Aida spoke up. “I’m doing fine. I’m excited about the work.”
Mo held his hands up and wrinkled his nose. “?‘I’m excited about the work!’?” he said, imitating her. “Bullshit! I call bullshit. No one is ever excited about work. Ain’t that right, little Trista?”
Aida couldn’t believe this exchange was happening. Trista kept her eyes on her computer screen, ignoring him.
Mo slammed his hands down on the table, causing both Trista and Aida to jump. “We know you certainly aren’t excited. You’re never excited aboutanything.”
Aida went to stand by Trista. “You shouldn’t treat her like that.”
“Perhaps,” Mo said. “But if I stopped doing all the things I should stop doing, life would be dull indeed. And, dear girl, I must say, that’s no way to talk to your employer.”
Aida decided to use Trista’s tactic and not respond. Instead, she held his gaze until he finally threw his hands in the air and backed up.
“Fine. Fine. You’re lucky I like you. And that you are doing work MODA needs done. I’ll let the transgression slide.” He blew a kiss in the air toward them. “Ta-ta, Trista dear. I look forward to your next report. And you,” he said, pointing at Aida, “don’t forget to record your amusement about Goethe’s two left feet.”
Mo gave them a little wave, then strolled out of the room.
When she saw him turn the corner toward the elevator, Aida sat down at the table with Trista. “Are you all right?”
Trista looked at her. The emotionless stare had returned.
“I’m fine, Miss Reale. I appreciate you standing up for me, but I assure you, it was unnecessary. Mo is mostly harmless.” She seemed to stumble on the wordmostly.
“Are you sure, Trista? He seemed like he could turn dangerous pretty quickly.”
Trista’s eyes grew wide. “No, I assure you, he is nothing to worry about.”
Aida was a little skeptical, but hearing the assurance in the aide’s voice calmed her nerves a bit.
“What is Mo’s role at MODA? Besides harassing his employees?”
Trista shrugged. “I don’t really know. It’s not my place to ask. He checks in on our work from time to time.”
Aida thought that odd. Well, she certainly would have no problem asking the next time she saw him.
“Is he always like that?”
Trista’s eyes told her that he was. “He can be very sharp.”
“Sharp?” Aida had to laugh. “Bitter and caustic would be more apt terms.”
“That’s what I said,” Trista responded. “Sharp.” She looked at her watch. “He wasted a fair amount of your time.”
Aida caught the hint. But on her way back into the main museum rooms, she paused. “Does Mo have a last name?”
“No. He’s just Mo.”
“Of course.” She let the library door shut behind her. LikeFran and Disa. It rankled Aida to have such strict formality on so much of what she did and yet she didn’t even know the last names of the people she reported to.
