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“Debatable, but you make a fair point,” TJ said.
Dr. Ferrante called the group to attention, welcomed the visitors to the site, and introduced his staff—four graduate students and one junior professor. Grant went next, thanking him effusively for allowing them to attend Dr. Bouras’ presentation. When Dr. Ferrante asked him to introduce his staff, Grant called Stuart, Dusty, Juno, and Olivia up to the front.
“These are the graduate students helping run the field school this year. Stuart Carlson, Olivia Sanchez, Dusty Danforth, and Juno Kalavos. They’re all working toward their doctorates in classical history and archaeology. So far, they’re doing an excellent job with this year’s crop of undergraduates.”
Though it stung not to be included, Rick wasn’t surprised at the omission. To be honest, he hadn’t expected Grant to praise anyone.
“Um…Dr. Nilsson?” Olivia said. “I think you forgot someone.” She caught Rick’s eye and flashed him a quick smile.
He mouthed the words “thank you,” grateful at her attempt to include him.
“Right. How foolish.” Grant craned his neck, seeking out the back row. At the sight of Rick, his lips curled up in a poisonous smile before he turned his attention to TJ. “There he is—way in the back. TJ, will you stand up?” When he did so, Grant gestured to him. “TJ Mayer is from Harvard, and he’s our lithics specialist. His expertise has come in handy, given the impressive Stone Age site his team found on the last day of the survey.”
His team? What the hell? Rick burned with anger. If nothing else, he should have been credited with finding the site.
Beside him, Marisol spoke softly. “That’s not true. You’re the one who led the team. Why isn’t he acknowledging you?”
Because I’m just a shovel bum. “It’s okay,” he said. “We can all share the credit.”
Even so, he found it hard to concentrate during the lecture, still smarting over the way Grant had put him in his place. To make things worse, after the presentation concluded, Dr. Ferrante asked Grant if he and his staff would like to stay for drinks at the local taverna. Grant accepted for them, no doubt pleased to continue networking.
As the students prepared to leave, Rick sought out Olivia, who was talking with Dusty. She gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry about Grant’s introduction. When I told him he was forgetting someone, I meant you, not TJ. But I didn’t want to harp on it.”
“It’s fine. Are you going for drinks or heading back to camp?”
“I should stay since Grant’s in a decent mood for once. I met Dr. Ferrante last year at the AIA meetings, and I’d like to jog his memory. It wouldn’t hurt to flash my credentials, seeing as how I’m now a legit archaeologist and all.” She laughed, no doubt hoping to lighten the mood.
He wasn’t feeling it. “Well, have fun. I’m guessing Sofia’s busy for the night?”
“She’s meeting up in Paphos with the guys from Mouflon Tours. At least you get to relax at camp. I’m wiped.”
Then why are you going? She didn’t owe Grant anything. But he also understood why she didn’t want to miss out. In academia, making connections mattered.
“I’ll see you later, okay?” she said. Without a backward glance, she and Dusty walked over to Dr. Ferrante, where they were joined by TJ and Stuart.
Feeling less than worthy, Rick gathered the rest of his team together. “All right, folks. Let’s head back to camp.”
The drive seemed endless. No one spoke or made their usual off-color jokes. Even the radio stayed silent.
After washing away the day’s grime in the shower, Rick’s mood improved, but he still wasn’t up for socializing. While everyone else headed to Spyros, he stayed back at camp, claiming he needed to work on his section of the survey report. But an hour after dinner ended, his night took an unexpected—and disgusting—turn, when Marisol came to him in tears because she’d thrown up in the bathroom. And she’d missed the toilet.
Rick offered to take care of it. He should have waited, because ten minutes later, Brynn did the same thing. Either the crew had eaten something nasty at Spyros, or they’d caught a stomach bug. Either way, he was glad he hadn’t joined them for dinner.
As he scrubbed the tile floor of the bathroom, he felt lower than he had at the site presentation. He wasn’t out drinking or networking. He wasn’t impressing anyone with his academic credentials. Instead, he was on his hands and knees, cleaning up vomit.
By the time he crashed out on his cot, Olivia still hadn’t returned. He lay awake for a long time, trying to decide what to do about Turkey.
As he and Olivia had grown closer, he’d almost convinced himself their differences didn’t matter. He might not be working toward a graduate degree, but she didn’t seem to care. Whenever they conferred at the excavation site, she never treated him like he was inferior. If anything, she came to him for advice.
But he’d been fooling himself. Even if she wasn’t as fixated on getting ahead as TJ or Grant, she cared about her place in academia. She’d worked hard to get this far in her career and wanted to keep going. How could she ever respect him when his goals were far more modest?
Even if he wanted to be with her, he’d only drag her down.
He picked up his phone and composed a quick email to Dr. Kaplan, accepting his offer. It was for the best. Instead of trying to fit in where he didn’t belong, he’d be doing work that he loved, on a job where his skills would be appreciated.
He’d almost drifted off when a car pulled into the lot. The sound of voices, laughing and talking, carried over to him, making him feel even worse.
His phone buzzed with a text from Olivia. I missed you tonight. I wish you could have been there. Can I make it up to you tomorrow night? Maybe we could go for a walk?
For a moment, he felt so peevish he almost didn’t respond. But shutting out Olivia wouldn’t solve anything. It wasn’t her fault he was feeling inadequate. If he met with her, then he could explain why he’d chosen to work in Turkey rather than returning home.
It’s a date, he texted back.
But he couldn’t shake the uncertainty that haunted him as he drifted off to sleep.
