Chapter 3

NICOLETTE

“I’m fine. Everything’s going to be fine. It’s gone now,” I whispered to myself as I paced around my kitchen.

Eight hours had passed since I handed the mirror off to Professor Mallorie. I had hoped that everything in my life would return to normal, but images of the other world kept flashing through my brain, haunting me.

I massaged my temples and closed my eyes. I needed a distraction. Anything to get my mind off of that mirror, that world, that man. And I knew just the thing.

I picked up my cell phone and started drafting a text to Sean, my ex-boyfriend. We broke up a month ago after dating long distance for a year. We were both passionate about archeology, but in every other way we were totally incompatible.

I was happy that I hadn’t given him my virginity. Not that I was saving myself for marriage. I just wanted to wait until I was with the right person, and Sean wasn’t that.

But a little flirtatious texting to clear my mind wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, right?

Nicolette

Hey there. Long time no talk 🤗

Nicolette

How r u?

I stared at my phone, waiting for the three dots to show that he was typing something. But, nothing.

With the time difference between New York and London, he was probably asleep and wouldn’t get back to me until the morning…if he ever got back to me at all.

This distraction clearly wasn’t going to work. And that’s when I spotted it—a green invitation card hanging from my refrigerator.

When Professor Mallorie had come by to pick up the mirror, he’d invited me to his museum-opening party tonight. I had made up an excuse about why I couldn’t go, but now I’d take any reason to get out of the house.

***

“Ms. Holland! You made it!” Professor Mallorie exclaimed as he saw me get out of the cab.

“Yes, um, my prior plans were canceled. So yeah, I’m here,” I said, adjusting my body-hugging dress that fell to just above the knees.

The gallery opening was a formal event, so I’d tried my best to dress the part. My everyday ripped jeans and T-shirt wouldn’t cut it.

“Let me take you to my table. I want you to meet some colleagues. They’re an intelligent crowd, I think you’ll like them,” he said, eyes gleaming.

“Lead the way, Professor.”

We strode into the museum’s main foyer and then down a hallway that led to a grand banquet room. Well, it was being used as a banquet room, but I imagined it was the room that normally held the traveling exhibits.

The professor stopped at the table nearest the podium. Four seats were occupied and three were empty.

“Everyone, I want you to meet Ms. Nicolette Holland,” he announced to the table.

“This is Madame Helen Ainsrow, the school’s president, with her husband, Mr. Miguel. This is the chair of the university’s board of directors, Mr. Arthur Shuvert, and this right here is Dr. Millard Danes, my partner and museum cocurator.”

Dr. Danes, who was sitting nearest to me, stood up and shook my hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Holland.” He flashed me a broad smile.

He looked about the same age as Professor Mallorie, but his hair was all black. He was tall, too, towering over me, even with me in my heels.

“Dr. Danes, the pleasure is mine.” I flashed him a smile back.

He swept his hand to the side and gestured to the vacant chair on his left. “Come sit, we have just started dinner.”

I graciously accepted his offer, watching as Professor Mallorie took the seat opposite me and placed a cloth napkin over the back of the remaining chair on his left.

“Are we expecting one more, Professor Mallorie?” I asked.

“Yes, we are,” Dr. Danes answered for him. “The top benefactor of this museum should be joining us soon.”

“Oh really? That’s fantastic. I can give him my thanks in person. But, um, he must be a very busy man.”

He chuckled loudly. Forcefully. He was clearly uncomfortable. “Yes, he is. You have no idea, Ms. Holland. His time is always precious.”

The courses were served, and every time a door opened, Dr. Danes would look to see who entered. His discomfort grew with each passing course. He fidgeted in his seat and kept shooting glances toward the entrance of the room.

After half an hour of casual conversation between delicious bites of food, a commotion sounded in the foyer, and the standing guests began to whisper and make their way out of the banquet room.

I lifted a brow and craned my neck to see what was happening. “What’s going on over there?”

“Oh, no,” Dr. Danes said, quickly wiping pasta sauce off his mouth with a napkin and standing. “Excuse me, friends, I think our guest has arrived.”

My eyes followed him as he exited the room.

~How can one guest cause so much trouble?~

A moment later, he returned with another man in tow.

“Wow, look at him,” I heard one of the other women at my table remark.

I glanced at the other man, and my heart plummeted in my chest.

~Oh no. This couldn’t be happening.~

~What the ~fuck~?~

When my eyes locked with Dr. Danes’s guest, I froze. My heart pounded. I couldn’t breathe. I began to shiver slightly.

It was the king from the mirror world. Even though I knew it was impossible, every bit of him was the same.

His strong build, his chiseled jaw, his thick brows, his full lips. He continued walking toward our table, and when he got closer, I saw the color of his eyes.

Piercing violet.

I nearly fainted in my seat.

There was only one discernible difference between the two. The man in the mirror had long hair. This man had close-cropped hair.

Was it possible that I was seeing things? That the mirror world had officially caused me to lose my mind? That I was just imagining all these similarities? Or was this really him? And if it ~was~ him, how did he find me?

As he continued walking toward me, both menacing and utterly irresistible, I only knew one thing for certain: getting rid of that mirror hadn’t put an end to my problems. Not at all.

The real trouble was just beginning.