Page 60 of Troy Story
Her first drawing was a playful cartoon of her and Stuart holding hands, with little hearts swirling above them. In the corner, Emilia looked on, dressed as the goddess Aphrodite, while TJ played the part of Cupid, shooting them with one of his arrows. She followed it up with another drawing, where she and Stuart were floating in a hot-air balloon over the rock formations in Cappadocia, once again surrounded by swirly hearts.
She shook her head in disgust. When had she become so sappy?
This wasn’t just the delicious buzz she got after a great night in bed. These were full-blown romanticfeelings. The type that led to a relationship with a capitalR.
What’s wrong with that? Why can’t you and Stuart stay together once you’re in Boston?
In the past, she’d avoided getting in deep with any of her partners. She took pride in her independence, not wanting to be tied down to anyone. But Stuart was different. She could easily envision sharing her life with him. Not that she wanted to spook him by moving too quickly, but at some point, she should tell him she wanted more than a summer romance.
As she drew, her mind kept circling around Boston. Of all the cities she’d lived in, it was the one that felt the most like home. Back when she was three, her parents had purchased a large condo in a gorgeous old building in the Back Bay neighborhood. Filled with overstuffed bookshelves, memorabilia from their trips, and antique furniture, it had a cozy, lived-in quality. Unlike their modern apartment in Cairo, the Boston condo suited her dad perfectly, which was why he lived there for most of the year, puttering over his research. Dusty was looking forward to spending time with him once she got back.
But she’d still have to deal with her dissertation. The thought of all that writing made her shudder.
Unless she charted a new course.
Could she be that bold? The more she considered it, the more excited she got. What if Mort’s offer panned out? What if she could make a career as an illustrator—not just of archaeological publications but children’s books as well?
“Morning, Dusty.” Emilia strolled into the common room, with Clarissa following on her heels. “I’m surprised you’re awake. Last night’s shenanigans should have left you exhausted.”
Dusty groaned. “Can we not, Em?”
“We certainly can. After all, Operation Aphrodite was my idea. Well, mine and TJ’s. The guy is surprisingly well-rounded in his knowledge of rom-coms.”
Dusty cast a knowing smirk at her friend. “Is he looking more appealing now?”
“No.” Emilia scowled. “Besides, we’re not talking about him. You’re the one who’s under interrogation. We want to know if our mission succeeded.” She turned to Clarissa. “Right? Don’t you want to know what happened?”
Clarissa peeked at Dusty’s drawing. “From that sketch, I’m guessing it went well.”
Dusty turned the page over. “It worked perfectly, thanks. But that’s all the details I’ll share.”
“I’m glad you’re back together,” Clarissa said. “Stuart was miserable on-site without you.”
“Yeah, he was a real grump.” Emilia wandered over to the kitchen counter and poured herself a mug of coffee. “You want one, Clarissa?”
“Yes, please. With two lumps of sugar.” Clarissa sat down across from Dusty. “Speaking of the site, did Dr. Hughes talk to you yesterday about coming back on Monday?”
“He did. I owe your dad a giant thank-you. I can’t believe he stood up for me like that.” Dusty still wished Stuart had been the one to speak up for her, but he had more to lose than a wealthy donor like Mort.
“Dad and I were shocked at Dr. Hughes’ behavior. I’m sorry I wasn’t around to take my share of the blame.” Clarissa shivered. “Though I’m glad Dr. Wagner didn’t yell at me. I cry really easily.”
“It was rough, but it’s over now.” Dusty flipped her pencil between her fingers as she pondered her next move. “Or maybe not. I had an idea…”
“What?” Emilia returned, setting the two mugs of coffee on the table, along with a package of Ülker tea biscuits. “Please say you’re not planning another spy mission. We just got you and Stuart back together.”
“No spying.” Dusty grabbed a biscuit. “I was thinking about Dr. Wagner. I still feel guilty that I lied to him. I’d like to make amends.”
Emilia gaped at her. “Are you serious? He was a total jerk when he confronted you.”
“He had every right to be. He spent a long time showing us around the site only to find out we were bullshitting him. I’m going to apologize on Monday, but I’ll clear it with Stuart first.”
“You think Wagner will listen to you?” Emilia said.
Dusty shrugged. “It’s worth a try, except I won’t be approaching him as Hilde. I’ll be Dusty Danforth, the daughter of renowned Egyptologist Dr. Louisa Danforth.” Though she rarely used her mom’s name to gain favors, this time, she’d make an exception. “Stuart said Dr. Wagner met my mom in Berlin. Maybe he’s a fan.”
“Are you going to tell him the spy mission was Hughes’ idea?” Emilia asked.
Dusty shook her head. “Nope. I’m just going to apologize for what we did. Hopefully, that should be enough.”
