Page 11 of Field Rules

ChapterFour

By the time Rick finished putting away the supplies he’d picked up in Larnaca, he was sweaty and exhausted. He’d done two round-trip drives to the airport, spent hours searching for all the crap on Grant’s list, and still had a heap of tasks to accomplish. All of which needed to be finished before the undergraduate students arrived the day after tomorrow. Given how much Grant hated him, Rick wasn’t surprised to be stuck with the most grueling work imaginable. For example, item five on the list—construct the camp showers—was a beast of a job.

Don’t let Grant get to you. Dr. Roth’s the one who matters.

Since Dr. Roth was the dig director, his opinion counted far more than Grant’s. As long as Rick did his job and stayed on the professor’s good side, he’d get the recommendation he sorely needed to secure his next gig. In this field, word of mouth was everything, especially for a guy like him without a graduate degree. Unfortunately, Dr. Roth was so busy with his own research that he let the assistant director oversee the everyday workings of the field school. That meant Rick would be dealing with Grant constantly over the next six weeks.

Rick washed up and hustled to join the others, who’d started walking toward the village. Grant led the way, followed by Stuart, Dusty, and TJ, but Olivia lagged behind. Head down, she appeared to be lost in her own world.

Though Rick wanted to ask if she was all right, he wasn’t sure she’d welcome the intrusion. Even if they’d reached an agreement at the gas station, they weren’t exactly friends. He slowed his pace, letting her get ahead of him, and took his time to savor the view.

The quiet street was lined with a mixture of old stone cottages and newer homes, most with balconies and red-tiled roofs. Orange and lemon trees shaded the front yards, and colorful bougainvillea adorned a few of the older buildings. With the sun slowly making its descent, the day’s heat faded, bringing the faintest hint of a breeze. He passed a few stray cats and stopped to pet a friendly calico that rubbed against his legs.

Further up the road, a pack of kids kicked a ball back and forth. One of them waved at him. “Kalispera, mister!” he called out.

Rick waved back. “Kalispera!”

Olivia stopped as though waiting for him. “Rick?”

He caught up with her. “Hey. You get settled okay?”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Her flat tone and slumped shoulders didn’t inspire confidence. “You sure?”

“Not really. I just had my first meeting with Grant. Have you ever worked with him?”

Talk about a loaded question. He glanced down the road, but Grant was too far ahead to hear them. “I’ve worked with everyone. Except you, apparently, because we’ve never met.”

That got a faint smile out of her. “Nice. But seriously, have you?”

“Yeah. He’s an asshole.” Rick didn’t sugarcoat it. Grant might have serious academic chops, but the guy was terrible with people.

A sleek tabby cat came up to them. Olivia cooed until the friendly feline wove its way around her legs. She bent down to pet it. “Are there a lot of stray cats around here?”

“Yeah, they call them ‘the cats of Cyprus.’ But don’t worry—the tourists keep them fed.”

She straightened up. “Good. I wouldn’t want this guy to go hungry. So…about Grant. He’s mean to everyone?”

“Maybe not everyone. Just those of us working beneath him.”

“Oh, thank God. Frida warned me, but sometimes she has issues with authority figures and—”

“And you don’t?”

“Not usually. But Grant didn’t seem to like me. It’s too bad, because for someone who’s only thirty, he’s ambitious as hell. He’s already published a ton of articles. But he acted like I was this huge liability.” She released a ragged breath. “Shit. Why am I burdening you with this?”

“Because you know I’ll be honest? You heard what TJ called me. A shovel bum. I don’t care about all that academic bullshit.”

“You did once. You told me you wanted to be an archaeology professor. Remember?”

Of course he remembered. But nineteen-year-old Rick had been a naive idiot. “Yeah, and you wanted to be a big world traveler. Right? So, tell me, Olivia, how many of those postcards on your wall are from places you’ve visited?” He made no attempt to hide his bitterness. She was no better than TJ, calling him out on his decision to forgo graduate school.

Her face fell. “You don’t have to be so mean about it. I don’t know why I confided in you for a second.” She strode on ahead, leaving him feeling like a complete prick.

Why couldn’t he have shrugged off her question? Why had he felt the need to reply in anger?

Maybe because he hadn’t shared that dream with anyone since college. It had died four years ago, when he’d left home and started traveling full-time. He didn’t need her reminding him that he’d failed to live up to his potential.

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