“We’re in the middle of something,” Rafa responded, earning an internal fist pump from Miri.
“This isworkrelated. I’m sure Miriam won’t mind the interruption.”
Miri gritted her teeth.
“Well, we werealsotalking about work, so if it’s work related, then why don’t we all have a seat?” Miri asked.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to bore you,” Dr. Quinn said. “I want to ask him about cameras and lenses.”
“I mean, that might be interesting.”
“Picked up a photography hobby in your free time?” Dr. Quinn asked.
“Does an iPhone count?”
Dr. Quinn narrowed his gaze and gave her a disapproving glance. “Let’s see what you’ve got, then,” he said, motioning toward her phone sitting face down on the bar top.
“Oh, well, I…” she said, picking up her phone and opening the photo app, trying to remember the last couple of things she took pictures of. “Um…let’s see.”
She scrolled through the photos with Dr. Quinn craning his neck over her shoulder to see. The most recent was a photo of the brown sauce on her boots.
“Very artsy,” Dr. Quinn said.
Miri made a face he couldn’t see, then moved to the next pics. One of a pretty—yet blurry—bird sitting on the wrought-iron railing on the balcony of her hotel room. Another of thefolded towel swan on her bed. Then a pretend selfie of her in hotel elevator mirror that was really a ploy to capture Rafa at the lobby desk in the background before the doors closed.
She tensed, realizing Rafa could see her phone, too. She glanced at him, and he smiled—shit—then she quickly closed out of her phone before jumping from her chair. “You know, I just remembered, I told my parents I’d call when I got here. I’d better get going.”
“You really don’t need to go,” Rafa said, also lifting from his seat, but she motioned him back down.
“No, no, it’s fine,” she said as Dr. Quinn was already settling into her seat and orderinga glass of your finest red wine—but nothing over fifty Brazilian real. “I was going to head to my room to do some research anyway. Prepare for tomorrow, you know? Besides, I’ve got some Pringles calling my name.”
Rafa’s eyes pleaded for her to stay, but she knew what she had to do. If she was going to be taken seriously and ever come close to being a badass like Dr. Mejía, she needed to stop playing fantasy with Rafa.
That’s all it would ever be anyway, right? A fantasy? Sure, they seemed to hit it off like a real rom-com, but instead of the leading lady, Miri would inevitably play the role of the dorky best friend andnotthe one who’d get the hot guy. And she had the experience to back up that theory. Like when she’d thought she and her high school chemistry lab partner, star quarterback and homecoming king Bobby McMillan, hada connectionbut the only connection they actually had was the correlation between their extra study sessions and the boost in his GPA.
Surely with Rafa she’d misinterpret one of his gestures and wind up with her eyes closed and lips puckered, kissing nothingbut air. She’d open her eyes and he’d be staring at her with a pitying look and say,Miri, I think you’ve got the wrong idea. And then they’d spend the next several weeks engaging in awkward small talk, all while pretending it never happened.
Things were better when Miri didn’t let her crushes crush her.
Besides, now that they were working together and now that she was lead, she needed to focus on more important things. Like figuring out what the hell she was doing.
She flashed Rafa an apologetic smile before saying her good-nights and heading up to her room. Time to concentrate. Formulate a game plan she could run by Dr. Quinn. And hopefully get a good night’s sleep.
“Senhorita,” the hotel desk clerk called out as Miri crossed the lobby approaching the stairs. “Something arrived for you this evening.”
“Me?”
The clerk nodded, then turned toward the wall of wooden mail slots, pulling out a large rigid envelope and handing it over the counter. The envelope was marked “RUSH DELIVERY”and it was addressed to her, with the return label to Dr. Corrie Mejía in New Haven, Connecticut.
She thanked the clerk, then trudged up the two flights to her room, curious about what Corrie had sent her. Once in the privacy of her room, Miri plopped on her bed and tore open the envelope. Inside was another manila envelope withCONFIDENTIAL: For Dr. Miriam Jacobs’s eyes onlyin Corrie’s handwriting. The envelope had some bulk to it.
Miri glanced around her room as if she was being spied on, then got up to close the curtains before settling back onto the bed and ripping open the second envelope, revealing ahandwritten letter and a small roundish object wrapped in a piece of burlap and tied with string. She held the object, judging its heft using her hands like a scale, before setting it on the bed and unfolding the letter:
Miri—
I’m sorry. I’m sorry for springing this job on you without notice. I’d wanted to tell you in advance, but you were already en route by the time plans changed. But you’re the only person we can trust to lead this expedition.
Yes, I know Dr. Quinn is also there, due to his alleged expertise on the subject. But you know I’ve never been a fan of that pompous asshat. The only reason I didn’t fight his inclusion was because I figured Ford and I would be able to put him in his place at the outset of the expedition. Unfortunately, that’s not an option now. Also unfortunately, with his expertise and background, had we not made him a co-lead, people would have been suspicious. As shitty as it is, there would have been too many questions if we made you lead on your own with your lack of lead experience.
