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“Oh my god, I cannot believe that I fell for your bullshit. What other underhanded motives do you have? Do you want Ashleigh’s number since you’re so clearly still interested in her?”

“What? No, I don’t care about Ashleigh or—”

“Anyone else, apparently. Look, Levi, let’s just pretend we didn’t run into each other. You go on with your life and I’ll go on with mine.” Without you, I almost added and stopped myself. I didn’t want him to know how much he’d hurt me by walking out of my life. “We’re practically strangers now. Let’s just leave it that way.”

He inhaled sharply like I’d rammed a trowel into his solar plexus. “How can you say that? I’m a stranger to you? I held your hair back when you threw up. I took you to your homecoming dance when your date stood you up.”

Him bringing back up those memories only made the betrayal worse. And god why did he have to bring up the dance? Of all things? Did he forget what had happened that night?

“Yeah, well, honestly, the person in front of me now is not the Levi I used to know.” My throat tightened as I whispered the words, hugging my arms around myself.

“Indy.” He took a step closer then faltered, his eyes drawn to something over my shoulder. “Holy shit, is that . . . ?”

I turned around to see Reginald Harris heading straight for us. Dammit! That was all I needed.

“Diana,” he called in that posh voice of his. One that was immediately recognizable to anyone who had been force-fed hours of Raiders of the Lost Earth like Levi had been. Oh god, which of them would embarrass me first?

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Diana,” Professor Harris said. “I’ve just been on the phone with the producer of Incredible Hoaxes. He has some questions for you.”

He stopped suddenly as he noticed Levi behind me, more proof that the man had tunnel vision. It’s not like my five-foot-five frame was blocking the tall golden specimen behind me. He had probably taken Levi for one of the volunteers we had on site, and I was happy to let him believe that.

But it was too late. Harris perched his glasses on his nose, giving Levi the full head-to-toe inspection. “This must be the mysterious fiancé—Leroy, was it?”

Completely mystified, Levi flicked his eyes to mine, and whatever he read there—utter humiliation, panic—was enough to have him extend his hand and say, “That’s right. I’m the fiancé.”

“Hmm, I must say I was beginning to doubt your existence,” replied Harris haughtily.

Levi was still studying me, a deep crease between his perfect eyebrows. “No, I do exist . . .” He held his hand out and Harris reluctantly shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Despite my mouth going dry, I nearly choked. This wasn’t happening. Not now.

“I apologize but I must steal Diana away.” Harris’s hand wrapped around my arm and Levi glared at it. “We have an urgent meeting for my new show. I’m sure Diana has told you she is going to be featured?”

Levi’s eyes darted to mine. “She hadn’t. Well, it’s not surprising, she is brilliant. Always has been.”

“Okay!” I clapped my hands together. “I don’t want to keep you, Levi.” I grabbed his arm and started turning him toward the parking lot. “See you tonight.”

In a weird moment of improvisation, I got on my tiptoes and kissed his stubbled cheek. The warmth of his skin was like catnip, and I lingered a millisecond longer than I should have. Enough time for him to grip me around the waist, his surprised expression dissolving into a knee-weakening stare.

“Okay, see you tonight . . . Indy.” His mouth turned up in a cocky smile as he teasingly said my nickname and winked at me.

I stumbled away from him, tingling all over and speed walked away. I felt like every nerve on my body was exposed and I had to catch my breath. When Harris ushered me into his office and started talking, it took me a minute to process what he was saying.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand these notes.” He shoved a handful of papers at me. The top one had been ripped from a Greek magazine in which I’d hastily jotted down some notes when inspiration struck on the bus in Thessaloniki. My writing was nearly illegible on a good day, and when you add to it a wildly swaying bus and potholes—well, it looked like it had been written by a drunk chicken with a pen strapped to its foot. Even I had to squint to decipher it.

But I remembered the circumstances: I’d just stumbled across a mysterious book in a used bookshop and opened up to an old photograph of what was indisputably an Etruscan bucchero. The handles at the side touched the rim of the cup, rather than the Greek versions with their lower handles. And then there was the image engraved on it. I’d seen it before at the Tomb of the Lost Star. I was sure that this would prove my theory that there had been an island settled by the female followers of the Etruscan goddess Catha.

I knew what I’d scribbled down: “Lost Star—Lyra. All female cult?” with indications about the place of origin. I’d never shared my full theory with Professor Harris, never mentioned the Tomb of the Lost Star that had inspired me initially. And even now, there was still something in this story—even if I had invented the whole thing—that still touched me, and that I wasn’t ready to share.

So I lied. “You’re right. Even I can’t make it out. It must not be that important.”

Harris peered over his glasses at me. “Hmmm,” he hummed as he plucked the paper back from me. “You should take care with your field notes, Diana.”

I nodded silently in agreement and couldn’t help peeking out the window to see Levi getting into his car. Not just any car. Francine. So I hadn’t hallucinated the other night. He still had the same car he’d proudly driven us around in the year he got his license.

I had some of my best memories in Francine—stargazing with Levi and Josh, stretched out on top of her hood. She’d also been there for one of my most humiliating moments. But I didn’t want to think about that now.

Professor Harris followed my line of vision. “It’s a pity you and Leroy are unable to make it to Helen’s lunch. Claudia Visconti will be there.”