Her Dirty Archeologists by Mika Lane

3

DRAKE BANCROFT

“What do you mean your brother and you are joining the dig?”

Jonas nodded patiently.

“You know, Drake, I’ve been concerned about being out of the game for too long. I need to get my hands dirty again. Get back out in the field.”

I did my best to control my rising panic. I had everything for the dig locked and loaded. I had Fleur, my assistant, and two other support staff lined up for the trip.

I had budget for four people. Not six. There was no room for anyone else.

Even if they were my boss and his brother. My boss, who controlled the archeology department’s budget and basically had to approve everything I did.

He patted me on the shoulder as if to offer comfort.

Little good it did.

“You’ll have to knock out the two support staff. But don’t worry, Drake, my brother Penn and I can carry our own weight. He’s a curator and runs ancient acquisitions at the museum. He will be a great person to have along. This could turn into something profitable for the university if he sees something they might be able to use.”

For Christ’s sake.

“Jonas, this excavation isn’t about selling shit and making money. In fact, I can tell you in no uncertain terms, this is not a for-profit endeavor. Nothing’s going to be purchased by a museum. Everything will stay with the university’s collection.”

Fuck if I hadn’t had this conversation a dozen times over the years. There was always a delicate balance between the need for research and discovery, and the commercial pressures of funding it. Selling to museums was great and all, but it sucked the passion right out of me. This work wasn’t about making fucking profits. It was about understanding ancient civilizations and learning from them.

I tried to push the anger out of my voice. No such luck. “Jonas, I had two support people lined up for this trip. I guess your brother and you will be taking their places?”

Irritation passed over his face that I was still questioning his decision. But that was my job. He might be my boss, but if I didn’t push back against bad ideas, what good was I to the department?

“Drake, with my brother and me there, you won’t need the support staff.”

“Really, Jonas? Who’s going to Dig the testing pits? Put up the tents? Make you coffee in the morning?” I snapped.

I couldn’t help it. This last-minute revelation was fucking me up. As it was, we had no budget for security for the camp. I didn’t like to shoestring my trips—too much to go wrong on the other side of the world in the middle of nowhere.

Jonas headed toward my door. “You know, you could bring someone other than Fleur, if you were really worried about being productive.”

At least we were on the same page with regard to something.

I thought for a moment. “Yeah. I know. I have some trepidation about that one. But it’s time for her to go on a real dig. She’s been asking for ages. I can’t put her off any longer.”

I wanted to put my head in my hands, although I wouldn’t do that in front of my boss. But he saw the unmistakable despair written all over my face. The trip was going to shit. I’d get nothing accomplished except for running a summer camp for pampered adults.

“Is that why you’re not bringing that other kid you usually take? What was his name? Rob?” Jonas asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, Rob. He got hepatitis on our last trip, so he’s not up for it. But he’s a pain in the ass anyway. Thinks his shit doesn’t stink, and he’s honestly not that smart. Fleur can run circles around him.”

But could she survive in a desert landscape, worlds away from creature comforts like air conditioning, running water, and Starbucks?

* * *

“Drake. How have you been?”

I knew who it was before I even turned around. But I still turned. It would have been rude not to.

Not that I owed my newly ex-wife any more than a modicum of pleasantry aside from what I might offer any stranger on the street.

Funny. You can commit yourself to your life’s true love, and one day, it’s over. Kaput. Gone. Dead.

That’s what it was like. A death.

And the way it happened was so cliché it was more funny than tragic.

I’d been getting some funny looks at department gatherings, though I’d paid them no real attention. Big mistake.

First, there were the staff meetings where my colleagues were avoiding my gaze.

Then there were the whispers at the cocktail parties, which I just chalked up to the usual catty university gossip.

But the last was a notification that spelled it all out for my dumb ass. Someone had slipped a note under my office door.

Thanks for the D, asshole. And by the way, your wife is fucking a sophomore from her archeology 101 class.

And that was the end of my marriage.

The ex hadn’t even tried to talk me out of splitting up. From day one, she agreed it was for the best. She’d fallen in love with this kid twelve years her junior, and she appreciated my moving out of the way so they could explore where their passion might lead them.

She’d actually said that.

So, my soul mate, academic partner, and love moved on. And now, even though the ink on the divorce papers was dry, I was still a little bitter.

“Oh, hey, Amalia,” I said, trying not to notice the lush black hair I used to run my fingers through, the bright blue eyes I could stare into for hours, and the lush lips that used to wrap around my—

Stop. Just stop.

She sidled up to me, her books held against her chest like a schoolgirl. That was one of the things I always liked about her. She was fucking brilliant but so unassuming.

Guess I wasn’t the only one to find that attractive. Irresistible, even.

“I understand you’re about to leave town. How long will you be gone?” she asked pleasantly.

Was she really interested? Or just making polite conversation?

I forced a smile. I wanted her to think I was okay with seeing her, my ex-wife, who’d cheated on me, not to mention crushed my heart on a regular basis at work.

Just your typical divorced couple. Working in the same place.

And I’d always thought that was so cool.

“The dig is a month or so, and then I’ll be writing for a couple months. So, no teaching this semester,” I said.

She nodded because she knew me so fucking well. “You must be thrilled,” she said quietly.

I was.

I looked around the hallway to make sure no one else could hear us. “I am. A whole semester away from my usual undergrads who couldn’t give a shit about the course material.”

Seriously. Some professors remained unbothered by it, but I found it soul-sucking to spend my days attempting to impart knowledge to a bunch of uninterested kids who were only there to fulfill a credit requirement.

Grad students were more my speed. They could be pains in the ass in their own way, but at least they were there to learn.

“Oh, and hey,” I added, “thanks for picking up the slack. I guess I owe you for that.”

She’d agreed to take not just one but two of my classes for the semester I’d be gone, which had really helped me out.

It was the least she could do for fucking up my life.

* * *