Allison Parr - Running Back

“They don’t want something boring.”

I started, and twisted around to see Mike, standing in his sweats and rumpled hair, watching us all with bright eyes.

“Oh?” Grace said. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m sure your feud is great and all. Very made-for-TV. But those aren’t your academic journalists out there. They want a splashy story for the tabloids or the cover of the sports section.”

“ Tabloids ,” Duncan groaned.

Jeremy leaned back in his chair. “You think they’re more interested in you than me and Ceile?”

Mike’s brows shot up and he smiled his you-poor-disbelieving-bastard smile. “I think it can’t hurt if Natalie and I give a little interview with some of the journalists I know.”

I waited until they’d all agreed, and then I went after Mike. “Why’d you offer that? I thought you were anti saving Jeremy’s rep.”

He brushed my hair back. “I don’t care about Jeremy. But I don’t want you sacrificing yourself and giving up the dig to save his reputation.”

I frowned. “Do you really think I would do that?”

“I don’t know. Would you? You’ve put people above finding Ivernis before. You put me above Kilkarten.”

I studied the planes of his face. How was it possible a person could be so familiar to me, that I could conjure his face down to the smallest detail even when he wasn’t nearby, and that when he was before me I never tired of looking? “You’re different.”

He slid his hands around my waist, under the hem of my shirt. They radiated heat. Mike radiated heat, like fire made human. “Am I?”

I brought my lips to his and tried to tell him in every way except verbally that I loved him.

None of the reporters followed us onto the fields, since Kilkarten was private property. Still, a hesitant unease hung over the crew as we shifted shovels of unremarkable earth. I called lunch early, and my unit trooped over to the others by the parking lot. We settled in the dirt with our bags and a round of Purelle. Some of the workers, like Anka Wójcik, lay down with their hats over their faces and catnapped during our forty-five minute break. These were usually the ones who worked here as their second job, or who came from farms farther away and had to wake earlier than the rest of us.

They probably weren’t worried about the lack of discovery, but more about having this income next summer.

“Who’s that?” Tim O’Brian, with the farm ten miles west, nodded his head toward the parking lot. “Never seen her before.”

Jack Kelleher spoke around his mouthful of banana. “She a friend of yours, Natalie?”

I looked up and realized they were asking me because the newcomer was accompanied by Mike, who helpfully offered his hand to help her over a bump.

We were outside. Of course there were bumps. Why the hell was she wearing heels?

From this distance, I couldn’t see her features, but I could see the way her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders, held back by a headband, and the way her coat cinched at the waist and then flared out in an appropriately whimsical manner.

I stood and made my way over, acutely aware of the dirt on my legs and my butt and my hair and my face. I was dirt all over; I breathed it, ate it, smelled it. I blew my nose and black mucus came out. “Hi.”

Mike gestured at the girl. “Hey, Nat. This is Jane Ellington.” To the girl, he said, “Natalie’s a grad student on the dig.”

She stuck out her hand and revealed gleaming white teeth. “Nice to meet you.”

I held my hands up, showing the dirt smeared to the edges by the cool sliding sanitizer. “Probably shouldn’t shake. You’re kind of far from home.”

“I’m the sports foreign correspondence for Sports Today. ”

I blinked several times. Sports Today was one of the largest news sites. “Well, that is just fascinating.”

She smiled broadly. “Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions?”

I glanced at Mike, who had on his agreeable, easy-going face. I wanted to tell him to wipe it off and put on something that would indicate now was not the time. “Now’s not a good time.”

“Maybe over dinner?”

I sighed and rubbed my head, remembering only afterward that the combination of sunscreen and dirt meant I was now a muddy mess. Great. “I don’t know. It’s been a long day...”

“A day looking for the remains of Ivernis?”

My defensive bristles went up at the slightly amused lilt in her voice. But Mike had brought her here, which must mean he thought she was worth talking to. “Sure. Fine. Dinner.”

Mike smiled and led her away. I looked forlornly after them.

Lauren came up beside me, wearing a neat blouse and skirt. She clearly was only here to socialize. “Do we hate her?”

“What? No!”

Lauren shrugged. “I don’t know. Looks like someone we should hate.”

“Just because she’s pretty and successful is not a reason to hate someone. I mean, we’re pretty and successful.”

Lauren refocused on the girl. “I can hate her for you.”

“Lauren! I don’t want you to do that!”

Lauren raised her brow. “Do you think she would be down here if my brother wasn’t?”

I blinked, and looked back at the twittering girl, and Mike, laughing. I crossed my arms and tried not to frown. “Kilky is interesting in its own right.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what’s going to be selling papers back home.”

“Well. Hmph. We still can’t hate her for trying to do a good job.”

“Okay.” Lauren nodded sagely. “But if she goes after Paul when I’m not around, I want you to take her out.”

Mike raised his brows when I finished dressing for dinner. “You’re wearing a dress.”

I smoothed my hands over the black sheath. “It’s been known to happen.”

We headed downstairs, but he didn’t drop the subject. “Twice. Once for the month mind, once in Paris. And your hair’s up. You’re channeling Tamera.”

I let out an exasperated huff, even though that was exactly what I was doing. “You sound like Cam.”

He opened the door outside and we headed for the coastal path. “Well, there’s a reason one of us is your best friend and the other is your boyfriend. Play nice with Jane, okay? I had to pull some strings to get her here.”

I stopped walking until he took my hand and gently tugged me back into motion. “Mike! You didn’t have to do that!”

He shrugged. “She wasn’t that far. Just in London.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I don’t even know what the point of this is. Why am I talking to her?”

“Because you always want the media on your side. And if you lay out all the details, Ivernis won’t seem so mysterious and people will stop being interested.”

I raised my brows at him. “Does that work?”

“We’re gonna find out.”

Jane looked up when we walked into the restaurant. We sat, and Jane smiled at me. “Now I can see it.”

“See what?”

“The resemblance.”

“What?”

“You’re Tamara Bucherov’s daughter, right?”

I slowly swiveled to look at Mike. He raised his brows and shook his head slowly.

I looked back to Jane. “Yes.”

“But you’ve never modeled or anything before?”

“No.”

“And how long have you two been dating?”

“I’m sorry. Is this an article on Ivernis, or Mike?”

She smiled brightly, teeth flashing like only American teeth did. “Both. It’s a human interest story.”

“Well.” I wanted to leave, but dinner hadn’t even arrived. “I don’t really want my personal life written about. I’d rather talk about Ivernis.”