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She smirked. “Good luck with that. You know a leopard never changes his spots, right?”
Maybe because she’d learned English as a second language, Juno loved peppering her speech with idioms. But her words hit the mark.
During his four years in the field, he’d always liked jumping from project to project. Six weeks here. Three months there. Not only was the short-term commitment a perfect fit for his restless nature, but it had enabled him to travel all over the Mediterranean. It had also allowed for a lot of fun, no-strings hookups. He was always honest about what he could offer the women he met. Which was to say, nothing. Once a project was over, he packed up and left. He hadn’t had a fixed address in years.
But lately, he’d felt like he was missing something. No strings meant no real connections. The passion faded as quickly as it sparked. While the short-term flings might shield him from heartbreak, they often left him feeling empty. But it was hard for him to open his heart to anyone—or to believe they’d truly want him, just as he was—when his own father had disowned him. Still, he’d never have a shot at lasting relationship if he put up walls every time he got close to someone.
So, he’d decided to stop fooling around until he figured out what he wanted. Only to get lured into the dark side while working in Palaikastro, where he’d made one of the biggest mistakes of his career.
After being put in her place by both Grant and Rick, Olivia’s mood was bleak at the start of dinner. Fortunately, Dr. Roth’s enthusiastic welcome set her mind at ease. Unlike Grant, the professor hadn’t disparaged her lack of experience but viewed it as a learning opportunity. “Just think,” he said, “after all those years of using archaeological reports in your research, now you’ll be contributing to them. Experiencing ancient history firsthand.”
That was why she’d been so passionate about archaeology as a kid. She’d been eager to uncover the relics of past civilizations. She’d read every archaeology book she could get her hands on, watched every movie and documentary. For years, becoming a professional archaeologist had been her dream until she’d screwed up at Clear Lake.
She could have tried again. Gone back into the field and given herself a fresh start. But she’d never had the courage. What if she messed up a second time? Archival research was a much safer option, and it was risk-free.
Stuart uncapped a bottle of beer and passed it her way. “Want a Keo? It’s a local brand.”
“Thanks.” She pressed the cold glass against her cheek, then took a drink. After the long day she’d had, it tasted like heaven. She could have chugged the entire beer, but she slowed down so she wouldn’t get light-headed.
Dusty raised her bottle. “Here’s to us and six weeks of shenanigans.”
Olivia lifted hers in solidarity, as did TJ and Stuart, but Rick was too engrossed in his conversation with Juno to join in. He appeared so comfortable with her that Olivia wondered if they’d worked together before. Or done more than just work.
How many women had he charmed during his years in the field? If Dusty’s gossip was to be believed, this version of Rick Langston—the twenty-six-year-old archaeological stud—was popular with the ladies. No surprise there. Even when he’d been nineteen, he’d won her over far too easily. She’d fallen for him so hard she’d willingly followed his lead when he suggested breaking the rules. But their reckless behavior had cost her dearly.
Stop dwelling on the past. You need to move on.
When Dr. Roth stood to excuse himself for the night, he gestured for all of them to stay seated. “There’s no need for you to rush back to Camp Kouklia,” he said. “Why not indulge in another drink? The real work starts tomorrow, so have fun while you can.”
She liked his attitude. Regardless of what tomorrow’s job list entailed, they’d probably have to toil in the hot sun getting camp ready for the undergraduate students.
Dusty had just ordered another round of beers when Grant called them to attention.
“Before I turn in, there are a few things I’d like to make clear.” He frowned at the beer bottles. “We let you drink tonight, but after that, no alcohol is allowed in the presence of the students. If you want to come here after hours for a drink or go to a bar on your day off, that’s acceptable, although I expect you to use discretion.
“Second thing. I know how life in the field is. Less boundaries. Fewer restrictions. But I’d like to discourage all of you from…inappropriate relations.”
Inappropriate? What did that mean?
Stuart spoke up first. “You mean sexual relationships with the students? That seems kind of obvious, from an ethical standpoint.”
“That goes without saying,” Grant snapped. “I was referring to the rest of you.” He waved his hand to encompass their group of six—Stuart, Dusty, Rick, Olivia, TJ, and Juno.
“Can I ask why?” TJ said. “We’re all consenting adults.”
For the first time that day, Olivia appreciated TJ’s pushy manner. Not that she was contemplating a steamy fling with anyone, but she didn’t understand why Grant felt the need to exert this much control over their personal lives.
“You need to serve as good examples,” Grant said. “While I can’t prohibit you from indulging in this kind of behavior, your actions could impact the type of reference you get after the field school ends.”
Was he threatening them? Frida was right. The guy was a joyless control freak.
The entire table went silent until Grant stood and wished them good night.
The minute he was out of earshot, TJ spoke up. “What’s his deal? Hasn’t he ever heard of field rules?”
“Field rules?” Olivia asked. She almost didn’t want to know. Especially since it might lead to a lengthy story.
“Yeah, what happens in the field stays in the field. Like in Vegas. No harm, no foul, no consequences. It’s definitely a thing.” TJ grinned at Rick. “Right? You know all about that.”
