Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
But I wouldn’t have pictured him in a hotel restaurant, hanging on Alistair’s every word.
This was interesting.
Seeing them together made me think their relationship was more convoluted than Alistair had indicated, because it was obvious that Gerard was in awe of the professor. He fixed a razor-sharp gaze on Alistair and leaned into his space, engrossed in whatever he was saying. I had no doubt that if there were a way to funnel the contents of the professor’s brain directly to his, Gerard would have been all over it.
I abandoned my coffee and strode confidently toward their table, my eager-assistant smile locked firmly in place.
“Good morning, gentlemen. I mean, bonjour! I see you’re already hard at work unveiling the secrets of the ancient world and the—” I stopped mid-sentence and pointed at the screen. “Is that gay porn?”
Alistair snorted. “No, and good morning, Winnie. This is a closeup of a recent finding of a Ramesside period ostracon.”
“I have no idea what that means, but my eyes do not deceive me. That’s…old-timey hanky-panky.” I squinted to get a better look at the crude drawing of a man in a loincloth bent at the waist as his lover entered him from behind, hands on hips.
Yeah, that was sex.
“You are correct, and that’s what makes this piece unusual,” Gerard commented with a friendly nod. “Allo, we met yesterday. I’m Gerard.”
“Winnie,” I said coolly. Gerard was less dreamy now that I knew the shady side of his personal connection to the professor. “I remember.”
“I must thank you for letting me know Dr. Creighton was in town. We’ve accomplished a great deal this morning.”
“Oh. Right. I don’t want to interrupt,” I lied.
“No, no, I have a train to catch, and I am running late.” Gerard scooted his chair away from the table, aiming an indulgent half smile at me as he unhooked his computer bag from his chair and gathered his belongings. He spoke to Alistair in French in a low tone, then switched to English again as he stood. “Au revoir, Winnie. I shall be in touch, Al-ee.”
“Al-ee?” I arched a brow and flopped unceremoniously onto the seat Gerard vacated.
“Never call me that,” Alistair huffed imperiously.
“Why not? It’s a nice nickname.” I chuckled at his sharp glare. “My real name is Winston, but the only people who’ve ever called me that were teachers on the first day of school. I’ve always been Winnie. My sister is Jasmine…everyone calls her Jazz. What’s yours? And don’t tell me you didn’t have one growing up. Everyone does.”
“Lee. Don’t call me that either.”
“Yes, sir.” I saluted him and pointed at the computer. “So…ancient porn is your secret research. You saucy minx, you.”
Alistair barked a laugh. “You’re a cheeky bugger. No, it’s not a secret, but it is sensitive.”
“Because they’re gay?”
“Not only that. It’s timing. Gerard would like to discuss his findings at the conference later in the month.”
“And he wants you to do the work.”
Alistair shrugged nonchalantly. “Research is what I do.”
“It’s gotta be weird to look at ancient porn with your ex’s husband.”
“That was…different,” he agreed wryly.
“I don’t like it. So tacky. There must be someone else he could ask.”
“Well, he could ask Colin. He’s a trained linguist and a historian too, but Gerard claims Colin is too busy at the moment and there’s no one else. Sticky subject or no, I am the expert.”
“Sticky subject? More like crusty object,” I snarked. “I bet that rock inspired a few nasty fantasies. Can you x-ray it for ancient jizz?”
“Don’t be crude. This drawing is roughly three thousand years old. The hieroglyphics have partially worn off, but Gerard’s team thinks they’ve found a missing shard related to this artwork, and there’s a bit of excitement about it.”
“Show me again.”
“Sorry, I can’t. You’re not part of the archeological society,” Alistair teased, signing his name on the bill.
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll enroll as soon as I get to my room. C’mon, one more time.”
He tapped the lid on his laptop and slowly opened it. “A quick peek.”
I rested my elbows on the table, staring at the screen. “His arms and torso are too long, and the schlong is too small. Also, I don’t think it’s possible or wise to turn your head to that degree. But he’s smiling.” I pointed at the figure’s smudged face, then at the symbols to the left. “What does that say?”
“Unknown for now.”
“Any ideas?” I asked, pausing to thank the server who’d tracked me to Alistair’s table and delivered a fresh cup of coffee.
“A name, a place, a year. Something that ties the men together.”
“Do you think one of them is the artist?”
Alistair gazed at the laptop thoughtfully. “No. The artist is less important than the subject matter, though. As you can imagine, we don’t come across many homoerotic artifacts. We’ll see the occasional painting of two men or two women kissing, but in the past, historians have claimed the subjects were merely close friends or possibly siblings. Not lovers. This is what you might call hard evidence.”