Page 46 of A Discovery: Love and Other Things

“I won’t tell anyone,” Angela said. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.” She put her arm around my shoulders.

“I promise.”

“Less talk, more work!” Mo had sneaked up behind us, clearly in a shitty mood.

“We were just discussing our dig strategy for the day.” Angela gave me an exaggerated wink.Smooth, girl. Smooth.

His cheeks flared out like an angry puffer fish. “The minister is here breathing down our necks, and you two are out here cackling. Are you looking to have our grant revoked?”

The stranger speaking to James was from the ministry? No wonder everyone seemed so tense.

“They want to revoke the grant for the dig?” I asked in disbelief. We still had three more weeks left.

“If we don’t have any developments soon, yes. They will not renew the project.”

“What about the bracelet I found?” That had to have been something more than just a piece of jewelry.

Mo wiped his sweaty brow. “The report isn’t back on it yet, so as of now, we technically have nothing.”

Angela and I stood there, stunned at the news. The temple had only been unearthed last year, and it was clear that there was a story behind its construction. We still hadn’t figured out who had commissioned it. It surely hadn’t been a pharaoh.

I looked over at James, who seemed to be in a heated discussion with the minister under the tent.

“Wow, that’s shocking,” Angela said, shaking her head.

“Do yourself a favor and at least look busy so Dr. Campbell doesn’t take his frustration out on you,” Mo warned. This was the nicest he had been to us during the entire dig—saving our necks from James.

Angela and I parted ways, feeling the pressure of the situation on our shoulders. I joined Abdul just beyond the back wall of the temple. He smiled at me and handed me a hand shovel and brush.

I stooped down next to him and went to work.

Thirty minutes and a basket full of broken pottery later, the minister was still at the site hovering around. James’s fuse had grown increasingly short, his temper threatening everyone in his path. I was lucky to have been spared so far, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he unleashed his wrath on me. The man could dish out fury just about as good as he could dish out dick.

I dug my shovel into the sand again, and the metal clanked against something. Abdul looked over and swiped his brush over the area. Dark blue and red paint on stone peeked out at me. It almost looked like a child’s toy. I brushed away the sediment until I could free it from the sand.

A statue. It was small, about the size of my index finger. I held it in my palm, the heavy weight indicating that it was made of solid material and not hollow inside.

The face had been chipped away, but the figure had a headdress that pharaohs wore.

I read the cartouche at the base of the figure. “Ay.” Tutankhamun’s successor.

Why was his statue here at a temple devoted to Tutankhamun, especially when Ay was believed to have forcefully secured the throne after the young pharaoh’s death? Ay had even used Tutankhamun’s original tomb for himself, forcing the dead king to be buried in a small, uneventful tomb, the very same one that Howard Carter famously excavated in the 1920s.

Abdul shouted for James. The minister came trotting along behind him.

“What is it?” James asked as he kneeled next to us, finally making eye contact with me for the first time today.

His masculine scent reminded me of our night together, fully enveloped in his smell, his arms, and his kisses.

I shook the naughty thoughts from my head. “A statue.” I placed it in James’s palm, trying to ignore my fingers making contact with his skin and liquid heat racing up my arm in response.

He studied it for some time, with the minister peering over his shoulder.

James’s finger brushed over the cartouche.

“Ay,” I read aloud for the men.

“What is he doing here?” the minister asked loudly, referring to the figurine.

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