“Hey,” he began, and then stopped and frowned. “You all right?”
I waved at the computer, too stunned to speak, and Mike came over to read it. “What is this? A job offer?”
“Yeah. From this guy who’s never gotten along with my advisor. He’s trying to poach me!”
Mike couldn’t smother his smile. “Are you interested?”
I almost choked on oxygen. “In working for the devil? No way.”
“Why not? You’d at least get to work on a site in your field.”
“Thank you, for reminding once again that I will never be able to excavate at Kilkarten.”
He stared at me.
I took a deep breath. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. Just—I would never betray Jeremy like that, by going to work for Ceile. That would be tantamount to saying that Jeremy’s crazy, that I agree with Ceile that Ivernis doesn’t exist. Would it make sense professionally? Sure. But—it would make me sick with myself.”
He slowly sat. “You’re still upset you’re not excavating Kilkarten.”
I let out a strangled laugh. “Of course I am. You knew that.”
“I didn’t realize how strongly you felt.” He studied me. “Are you upset with me?”
I avoided his too-clear gaze. “I don’t know. I guess my emotions about you are all tangled up.”
“But that’s the main block between us.”
I shrugged and nodded. “It’s the elephant in the room.”
“Okay. I get that. But—maybe for tonight we can forget it and just be friends.”
I nodded. “I’d like that.”
So for that night, we talked and watched Irish television. He told me about his teammates and I told him about my travels and we made mangled attempts at accents, starting with Ireland and spreading all over the world. He tore apart my fantasy team and I taught him how to write his name in ancient Greek. It was one of the best nights I’d had in a long time, and when he finally slipped out the door, I stared after him for a long, long time before falling into a deep sleep.
Chapter Twelve
When I woke, I threw on my simple black dress and blew out my hair. I left it loose and straight instead of shoving it into my habitual ponytail, and even scrounged up some eyeliner from the black hole of my messenger bag. When I finished, I could see hints of my mother in my reflection. For a moment I just stared, slightly uneasy, before attempting on a whim the look she had been particularly famous for. It was a cross between a smile and sneer, an expression of unrelenting disdain for the mere mortals that wanted her attention.
It looked so ridiculous on me that I laughed, and headed down to breakfast.
Downstairs, the O’Connor women waited in unrelenting black. Different blacks; Kate looked elegant in a sheath and pearls, Lauren looked like the dress could double for cocktail hour, while Anna’s looked kind of poufy and alternative. She didn’t have her dark eyeliner on for once, but she hadn’t given up the combat boots either.
We’d already started in on our eggs and hashbrowns when footsteps sounded in the hall. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel Mike’s presence behind me, palpable and elemental as a gust of wind or a burst of light. “Morning, everyone.” He tugged on my ponytail. “Morning, Natalie.”
Kate smiled.
I flushed. “Good morning.” I glanced up, and froze.
He’d put on a suit, his black jacket sharp, his white shirt crisp. His brilliant hair gleamed in sharp contrast. I sucked in a breath. He grinned down lazily and filched toast off my plate.
I blinked at him. “You stole my breakfast.”
He gave me one of his devastating smiles, before turning to his mother. “Wow, Mom. You look great.” He dropped into the chair beside me, angling his leg so his knee brushed mine. I tried to keep from jumping and he tugged the plate of sausages toward him.
Kate O’Connor set down her coffee mug. “Thank you, Michael. Your compliments are always so sweet and so unexpected.”
He gave her a puppy-eyed expression. “I remember flowers and cards at every holiday.”