“Can you fix it?”
“I can try to boost the signal, but there’s no guarantee. We might need to wait for the storm to pass.”
Ella’s screaming reaches a new pitch. Georgia is doing everything she can, offering toys, singing, making soothing sounds, but nothing works. The toddler is terrified and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
I feel my control slipping. “This is a disaster,” I mutter to myself, but in the close quarters of the SUV, everyone hears.
“It’s a storm,” Georgia says tightly, still trying to calm Ella. “It happens.”
“We should have left earlier. We should have?—”
“Should have what? Predicted the weather? Calvin, this is the desert. Things happen that we can’t control. And we left at five in the morning.”
“We could control being prepared?—”
“Weareprepared. We have shelter, we have supplies, we have an experienced guide. What we need now is patience.”
That word again. Patience.
“If we’d left on time?—”
“We left on time!” Georgia’s voice rises, and even Ella stops crying for a moment, startled. “We left exactly when Khalid said we should leave. This storm isn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just bad luck.”
“Bad luck that’s costing us half a day?—”
“So, what do you want to do about it?” She turns to face me fully, and there’s fire in her eyes. “Do you want to drive through it? Risk getting lost, risk an accident? Or do you want to sit here safely and wait, like Khalid advised?”
“I want to not be sitting here uselessly?—”
“Then stop complaining and help!” She gestures at Ella, who’s building up to another crying jag. “You’re sitting right there. Distract her. Play with her. Do something besides spiral about things you can’t change.”
The words hit like a slap. She’s accusing me of being weak, and if she really knew me, she would know that I’m anythingbutthat.
“I am not spiraling,” I hiss through tight teeth.
“Yes, you are. You’re losing it over something completely beyond your control. It’s a storm, Calvin. It happens. We wait, and then we move on. Like adults.”
The silence in the SUV is deafening. Even the wind seems to quiet for a moment.
Edmond is studying his hands with great interest. Khalid is very focused on the navigation system, though I already know there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s only trying to look busy and like he’s somehow not listening to the conversation happening less than two feet away from him.
“I am handling this,” I say through gritted teeth.
“No, you’re panicking. And it’s not helping. In fact, it’s making everyone else nervous.” Georgia’s voice is quieter now but no less firm. “So, pull yourself together and let Khalid do his job. That’s what you hired him for.”
She turns back to Ella, effectively dismissing me, and starts singing a soft lullaby.
I sit there, fury and humiliation burning in my chest.
This is the second time in twelve hours Georgia has called me out. Last night at dinner, and now this. And both times, she’s done it in front of others.
I’m the boss. I’m funding this entire operation. And she’s treating me like… like what? An incompetent child having a tantrum?
If she thinks she’s in charge, we’re going to have serious problems. There’s a reason the sayingtoo many cooks in the kitchenexists. Projects need clear leadership, clear hierarchy. Otherwise, it’s chaos.
And I don’t do chaos.
I stare out the window at the wall of sand, my hands clenched into fists. Yes, she’s brilliant. Yes, she’s the lead archaeologist. Yes, I hired her specifically for her expertise.
