“You know what,” Emma said, “I’ll stay here if you want me to. It doesn’t feel right going out and having fun after hearing that.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to put a damper on things.” Leila rose and dragged Emma to her feet. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine. Really.”
Indeed. Her lungs filled deeply. Her shoulders straightened. Her feet felt lighter.
“Maybe we can go out and do something together, just the two of us,” Emma suggested. “We can go to the mall!”
Leila shook her head, even though she’d rather take Emma up on the offer. “No, I have to stay.” She paused then decided to go ahead and tell her. “Neal wanted to meet me about something. He said it was important.”
“Oh, I see. Something important.” A sly smile crept over Emma’s face. “He likes you, I think.”
Leila tilted her head back and laughed. The idea was ridiculous. If he liked her, he would have asked her out. Besides, his manner had been much too serious for it to be about something like that.
“I highly doubt it. He’s old enough to be my dad.” She grimaced, although she had to admit she would prefer that over getting fired.
“Oh, come on, don’t exaggerate. He’s cute, single,” Emma said with a wink then added, “and rich. And he hangs around you all the time. Everyone has noticed. It’s so obvious.”
Leila raised her eyebrows. She agreed with most of those points but didn’t see it happening. Bosses were off-limits in her book. Even if it would stop her from getting fired. That was wrong on so many levels. Besides, he had expressed different reasons for keeping a close eye on her.
“I guess that settles it.”
Emma laughed and sprayed perfume on her neck. “Well, I want a full report when I get back.” She snatched her purse and headed for the door.
“Stammi bene,” she called reluctantly. “Take care.”
Leila waited for another half hour before venturing downstairs. Eager to get the meeting over with as swiftly as possible, she made her way into the kitchen. There was no way Emma could be right. Neal hadn’t given her any romantic signals. They only talked when he needed help at the dig, and he was merely helping her with the police stuff. No big deal.
In the kitchen, Neal leaned against the counter, his nose in an English newspaper. The kitchen, though outdated, had all the basic amenities. Most people only used it to store their take-out in the fridge.
After they exchanged a casual greeting, she went over to the stove to boil some water for tea. “You want some too?”
“Sure, thanks,” Neal said, folding up his paper and tossing it down on the counter.
“Um, there’s hibiscus, peppermint, and black,” Leila read off the labels of the packaging to him. Somehow she managed to keep her voice even.
“Peppermint sounds good.”
“You having fun digging all day?” she asked as she placed the pot on the yellowing stove and set aside two teabags.
“I wouldn’t call it fun.” Neal chuckled and crossed his arms, though his posture remained relaxed. “Sure beats a desk job, though.”
“Good.” Leila smiled. “A lot of people quit after a day since they come not realizing that there’s actual physical labor involved in an excavation. But honestly, archaeologists spend more time in libraries and labs than outdoors.”
An awkward silence fell over them as the water began to boil. Finally, the pot whistled angrily and steam spewed from the spout.
“So, how about that police report?” Leila reminded him as she removed the teapot from the stove and poured the water into two mugs. She prayed for her hands to remain steady. This was only about the police report, right?
“The form is here on the table.”
She joined him at the table by the window. The papers had already been spread out, so she picked up the pen, ready to write down as detailed a description as possible. Her hand hovered over the papers. They were all in Arabic.
“They were all out of English copies,” Neal explained. “I was hoping you might be able to speak enough.”
“Unfortunately, no.” Which was a shame. Had her mother lived, she probably would have taught her. She set down the pen and dragged her mug toward her. Dread settled into her chest. This wasn’t about the report, was it?
“Well, then, we can move on to the next topic,” he started, tugging on the string to the tea bag in his mug.
Leila set her tea down and took a deep breath. This was it. “Look, I can explain everything.”
Neal blinked. “Oh?”
“It’s a long story, but Xander and I go way back.”
“That’s interesting.”
“There’s more to it—it’s not all just some, uh, argument we had.” Leila wanted to kick herself for botching up her speech. She was already way off course.
“Well, I do have a few questions for you about—”
“All I’m saying is, please don’t fire me. I know I overreacted. I can do better and I’m trying not to—”
“Leila?” Neal lifted an eyebrow.
“Um… yes?”
“I’m not going to fire you.”
“Oh.” Leila bit down on her bottom lip. Well, maybe Emma was right after all. She sucked in her breath as she waited for Neal to continue.
