“You have to blow your own trumpet,” I point out, “because nobody else is going to.”
“Don’t talk about blowing my trumpet at the dinner table.” He’s teasing me, but the suggestive connotation—gives me goosebumps.
“Go on,” Manu says. “You hold the deepest free dive, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Joel says reluctantly. “107 meters in Lake Taupo.”
“And dynamic with fins?” Manu prompts.
“Yeah. 266 meters.”
“Dynamic without fins?”
“Yeah. 232 meters.” He looks uncomfortable at revealing his achievements and changes the subject as the waiter approaches with our plates. “Ah, food, thank God. I’m starving.”
We begin with a lobster bisque with creme fraiche and chives and continue with grilled sea bass with a white wine beurre blanc, accompanied by garlic mashed potatoes and a medley of seasonal vegetables. The food is delicious, but while I’m eating, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that Joel holdsall those diving records and is up for Director of Operations at his company. I’m seriously impressed. I thought he was a scruffy boy, and instead he’s an experienced and accomplished man.
It gives me goosebumps.
We spend most of the meal talking about archaeology, everything from new developments in the discipline, to excavations we’ve been on, to famous finds. I’m used to it as I spend a lot of time with Hallie, Elora, Joel, and Fraser, who are all archaeologists too, but it means I’m able to hold my own, even though I have less experience than everyone else.
The meal concludes with a flourless dark chocolate torte with raspberry coulis and whipped cream. It’s amazing, and I savor every spoonful, unable to stop a sigh of pleasure escaping my lips as I suck my spoon.
I glance over and see Joel’s spoon halfway to his lips, his gaze fixed on my mouth.
“What?” I murmur, touching my fingers to my lips in case I have chocolate smeared somewhere.
His gaze lifts to mine, holding a touch of exasperation and amusement, and he gives a slight shake of his head before he continues eating his own dessert.
I’m more careful about how I eat after that.
When we’re done and the plates have all been cleared, it’s finally time for the award ceremony. The Communications Director of ANZAS, a woman in her fifties with a silver bob called Alethea Everest, takes the mic and introduces herself and the President, Richard Williams. Richard gives a short talk about the importance of ANZAS and how thrilled he is with the growth of interest in archaeology in the country, and then Alethea begins to go through the awards. She reads out the titles and explains each of them, and the winners go up and accept their trophy from Richard.
The presentations begin with the smaller, less important awards, and gradually move to the bigger ones that are obviously more prestigious. Now that I know both Joel and Manu have been nominated, I wait nervously for their awards to come up. First is the Cultural Resource Management Award. Alethea explains that this acknowledges exceptional work in the field of cultural resource management. Manu has already told me that his Maori heritage has given him a foot in the door with the local iwi, and I’m not surprised when he’s announced as the winner. We clap him as he goes up to receive his trophy, and he gives a short speech thanking the staff at MOANA for their support, first in Maori, then in English.
I glance at Joel, pleased he’s smiling. “He works hard,” he says. “He deserves it.”
“So do you,” I point out. He shrugs. “Everyone does.”
“No, they really don’t,” I say with feeling.
He sends me a smile, but his attention is on Manu as he makes his way back to the table, and he stands and gives Manu a bearhug, which is a nice touch.
Alethea runs through a couple more awards, and then finally it’s time for the Archaeological Fieldwork Award. It’s the last one before the big two—the Public Archaeology Award, and the Lifetime Achievement Award. She reads out the six nominees, which include Manu and Joel. Manu is nominated for his work on an historic wharf in Wellington Harbour. Joel is up because of his excavation of several wrecks at what’s enigmatically called Rangitoto Ships Graveyard.
I glance at Joel; he looks calm and collected, but something in his eyes tells me he’s nervous.
Alethea pulls the card from the envelope, glances at our table, and smiles. “And the winner is… Joel Bell for the excavations at Rangitoto Ships Graveyard. He’s the youngest ever winner of this award since the society began!”
I feel a swell of delight and pride for him and turn to congratulate him as he rises. To my shock, though, he bends and, before I can protest, slides a hand to the back of my head and crushes his lips to mine in a brief but hot kiss.
Immediately, he straightens and releases me, heading for the stage. I sit there, head spinning, face burning, completely shocked. I should be indignant and protest vehemently. I should tell him he must never do that again, and that I’m disgusted with his behavior. But all I can think is how my heart leapt when he did it, and I know I’m going to dream about it for a long time to come.
Chapter Five
Joel
“Congratulations, Joel,” Alethea says as she hands me the award. “Or should I say Aquaman?” Her eyes twinkle as a ripple of laughter spreads through the crowd.