“Maybe I should just give up.”
She set down her cloth and focused entirely on me. “Why? Because you’re scared?”
“Because...” I gestured wildly, unable to get rid of the tight, frantic feeling in my chest. “I don’t know what to do with it. It’s too big. It’s pointless. Maybe I should just shelve it. It seems so unnecessary.”
“Natalie. I love you. You make me happy, and laugh, and think, and I like spending time with you. Is that pointless? Is joy pointless? No. Tell him.”
And she was right. I knew she was right.
But first, I had to get through the conference.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The American Academy of Archaeology Conference took place in the Javits Center in New York, a complex on the Hudson River within spitting distance of the Leopards’ Stadium, if you were a very excellent spitter. It had little charm, lots of space, and thousands of archaeologists and grad students frantically running around.
I arrived with a half-dozen grad school friends. We picked up our badges on the ground floor, one of the few places flooded with natural light. I took a moment to admire the blue highlight across my name that marked me as a panelist, while my friends oohed appreciatively.
Then the panic set in.
Without Jeremy, I
’d be carrying this all by myself. I’d never presented a field report entirely alone before. I wasn’t even sure if anyone would show up, now that Jeremy wasn’t appearing since Kilkarten had nothing to do with Ivernis.
We spent the morning wandering around the floor, picking up the few free pens and bags and hoping and failing to find free food. We broke up to attend different lectures, but they all promised to come see mine, and at two o’clock I made my way to a small room hidden off a side hall. I’d almost reached it when a harried organizer hurried up to me, frowning down at her tablet and then back at me. “Ms. Sullivan?”
I stopped. “Hi. Yes?”
“We’re moving you to 1C. One of the larger exhibition halls,” she clarified when I looked at her blankly. “You’re up in twenty.”
“What? Why?”
She shook her head. “More people than we expected want to see your lecture. There’s a line forming outside right now.”
“Really?” But I was just a grad student with a tiny little site in Ireland...
We stared at each other, and then recognition bloomed on her face. “Oh. You’re that model dating the football player.”
“No—I’m not, that was my mother—I mean, yes, I dated—”
She shook her head, not interested in my muddy clarification. Not, apparently, all that interested in me now that she realized I was the nightclub singer sidekick.
I followed her to the back entrance, and then waited there while the current speaker finished up. He walked past me when he left, and I did a double take, since he’d just wrapped a miniseries on the Olmecs. He grinned. “Ah, the model. You’re up next?”
“Yes, sir. But—”
“Aren’t you dating the Leopards’ running back?”
I drew up my shoulders. “No, but I am working on the excavation at Kilkarten.”
He looked confused but nodded genially before continuing on his way. “Good luck up there.”
I stared after him, and then threw a quick excuse at my guide before dashing toward the closest bathroom.
I splashed water on my face, the cold liquid sharp against my hot cheeks. They were here to see a celebrity, not me. That should have made it better, not worse. Should have taken the pressure off presenting.
Still, I’d expected a crowd of about twenty, and even if most of those gathered weren’t experts in Iron Age culture or Ireland, it would still be my first public appearance where I didn’t know the names of ninety percent of the audience.
Then I straightened my shoulders, and pulled my hair over my shoulders, half on each side, blown out to that sheen. No makeup other then a touch of lipstick, but my dress was the same shade as my eyes.