His expression shifted back to ease, and he flashed a bright, shocking smile that made me flush straight to my toes. “That’s right,” he said, as though the memory had just now occurred to him. “Poor ol’ Uncle Patrick.”
He didn’t sound any more broken up than I felt.
“Um, yes.” I tried to recover from that smile.
“But you’re not really here to offer your condolences, are you, Ms. Sullivan? You want to talk about Kilkarten.”
“That’s right.” I shook myself and smiled again. “As I’m sure you know, your uncle and I had negotiated a deal regarding excavating the Iron Age harbor at Kilkarten Farm. I’m an archaeologist with Columbia University, and we’ll be partnered with an Irish university for the dig. I’ve emailed you the agreement, but I brought a paper copy as well.” I pulled the packet from my briefcase, wrinkling the paper on the way out. Why couldn’t I ever be suave? “I’m hoping we can keep the same terms that Patrick O’Connor and I worked out, and if you’re happy with them there are just a couple of forms to sign.”
He closed his eyes for one brief moment, and when he opened them they were focused on me with an intensity that made my own widen. He leaned forward and my throat dried up. “Look, Ms. Sullivan, I’ll get to the point. There isn’t going to be an excavation.”
Wait.
What?
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.” I tried to keep my voice from warbling as I tucked my loose hair firmly behind my ear. “You object to the terms?”
I could see all the tensed energy in his muscles as he brought his arms to rest on the desk. He laced his fingers together. One red lock fell across his forehead. “I know you had an agreement with my uncle, Ms. Sullivan, and I’m sorry about that.”
“This dig’s beginning in a month,” I said dumbly.
He shook his head and spoke with finality. “No, it’s not.”
I blinked rapidly. “Why not?”
His expression didn’t change. “Personal reasons.”
Personal reasons.
Personal reasons?
Personal was seven years of school. Personal was Jeremy’s damaged reputation, years of research, a lifetime of love, conferences and papers and passion. It was bureaucratic tape and persuading cranky old men and academic feuds and my father’s disdain. “I don’t think you understand how important this project is.”
O’Connor’s hands twisted, his thumb and forefinger biting into the skin between his fingers. He smiled, and didn’t bother trying to make it reach his eyes. “Important means very different things to different people.”
My stomach turned over, like I’d only had coffee all morning long. “So you’re saying that...you’re not going to give me the rights to dig at Kilkarten. I’m going to have to cancel the excavation.” I blinked. “Can I do anything to make you change your mind?”
For the first time since I’d walked in, he betrayed some regret. “I’m sorry, but no.”
I nodded. “Oh.” There was a pit in my stomach, a knot that pulled everything in me down, that turned every emotion sour and made it hard to breathe. My body felt uneasy and weak and shaky. “I see.”
His brows lowered in slight consternation. “Can I get you anything? Water?”
I waved a hand. “No, I’m fine. Just—I don’t suppose you can tell me why?”
His face masked once more. “I’m sorry, it’s—”
“Personal. I get it.” I sucked in a deep breath and stood. I would have to call Jeremy. And the locals I had hired. And the suppliers I had contracted with for equipment.
And my parents. At some point, I would have to tell my parents I had failed. Well, at least someone would be happy with this outcome.
Standing, I swallowed dryly and stuck out my hand. “Well—thank you for your time.”
He took my hand, his own large and warm. His eyes scanned mine. “You’re really upset about this.”
That almost made me laugh. “You could say that.” I took a deep breath. “But. That’s not your problem.”
“Hey.” His hand held on to mine as I began to pull away, and my eyes rose back to his. “Do you think it’s really there? You think you would have found this lost harbor of yours?”