To recover, she cleared her throat. “What does she do?”
“Graphic design.” Karl gave her a lopsided grin. “She’s also a nerd like me.”
Leila smiled back. At least that made sense. “Well, I’m sure you’ve missed her.”
“Yeah,” Karl said, sounding dispirited. “She’s started a program in Cologne so we’ll be apart every semester until she finishes. She has another two years to go.”
“Must be hard being away for so long. Why don’t you transfer to Cologne?”
“Maybe I will someday.” Karl’s voice fell further.
Leila chewed on her lip. She needed to change the tone of the conversation to something a bit more positive. “What’s her name?”
“Sophia.” Karl shoved a hand into his pocket. “Wanna see a picture?”
“Sure.”
He whipped out his phone then thumbed through his photo gallery. After a moment, he held it out for Leila to see.
“She’s gorgeous,” Leila said as she glanced at the picture. The woman had curly dark hair that fell over her shoulders and a large smile, posing in front of Elizabeth Tower in London. How could Karl actually be married?
“Are you sure she’s your wife?”
Karl snorted then flipped through the gallery again and showed her another picture, this time one of Sophia in a white gown, her arm linked through Karl’s.
“Here’s proof.”
Leila laughed. “I believe you.” She couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but the smiling woman reminded her of someone. She just wasn’t sure of whom.
Silence fell between them, and they both observed the crowd for a few moments. Her eyes wandered around the room until they fell on a face she recognized as one of the reporters who had followed her around the day before. Veronica was her name if she remembered correctly.
Leila narrowed her eyes. The leggy blonde was talking to Xander. Veronica chatted animatedly, laughing and touching his arm. The expression on Xander’s face said he was suffering from severe abdominal cramps.
“She’s been glued to him all afternoon,” Karl muttered. Leila cringed, realizing she’d been staring long enough for him to notice. “Poor guy can’t seem to shake her off.” He excused himself to go find some more food.
Leila debated going over to rescue Xander. Instead, she finished her drink and wandered to the kitchen.
Xander could take care of himself.
Emma was the only one in the kitchen, standing at the sink washing dishes. Leila plucked up a dish towel and joined her.
“Did you know Karl was married?” Leila asked, picking up a platter dripping with water.
“Oh, yeah. He calls his wife all the time,” Emma replied nonchalantly. “Why? You didn’t know?”
“No! He just told me. He doesn’t even wear a ring. I guess I haven’t worked with him as much as you have, though.”
“He has one of those rubber rings. Most married Germans wear it on their right hand instead of their left.” Emma squealed as water splashed all over her front. “Mamma mia!”
Leila tried to recall if she’d noticed the ring but shook her head when her mind drew a blank. “Well, you learn something new every day,” she said with a laugh and handed Emma the dish towel.
“Yeah, kind of sad they’ve been apart for so long.” Emma wiped away the dripping water then plunged her hands back into the sudsy water.
“Isn’t it?” Leila agreed. Her shoulders sagged, and a heaviness tugged at her heart. Though she wasn’t sure it was Karl that bothered her.
Lost in thought, she glanced out the kitchen window and swallowed back a gag. Veronica idled on the sidewalk, talking to Xander. Probably hadn’t stopped talking the entire time, not even to take a breath. In the few seconds Leila watched, she flipped her hair at least twice and laughed at everything Xander mumbled.
“Have you seen anything faker?” Emma asked, peering over her shoulder.
Leila raised her eyebrows. “Pretty bad, isn’t she?”
Finally, Veronica said goodbye and waved as she started to walk away. “Call me!” she shouted back at him like some lovestruck teenager. Xander lingered outside, holding a hand to his forehead. Leila forced herself to avert her gaze. It shouldn’t bother her. So what if he kissed her once? It wasn’t what she thought it was. He obviously had been caught up in the moment. So much for wanting more excuses.
“Oh well, she can have him, right?” Emma said with a snort as she set the last cup down next to the sink and yanked the drain plug. The sink gurgled happily.
Leila gave her a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, they’re perfect for each other.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“A little to the left,” Emma said from behind her camera. She crouched in front of the pile of ancient furniture, her camera glued to her face.
Leila used two fingers to slide a heavy paper label in front of a wooden chest. The cartouche-shaped box stood two feet high, embellished with large, multi-colored hieroglyphics bearing Neferkheri’s name. The shutter clicked as Emma snapped another photograph.
“All right, now the vases.” Emma rose to her feet and shuffled toward the other side of the room, her eyes on the preview screen as she clicked through the pictures. Whenever Emma had her camera in her hands, she became the boss.
Leila sat down in front of the heap of pottery, picked up her clipboard, and filled out the next label. She examined the nearest vase, taking in the intricate details of the curved handles of gold on either side of its spout. The rounded body of the vase was adorned with hieroglyphs in hues of reds and blues, with a large eye of Ra painted in black across the middle. The colors were as bold as if they had been produced only yesterday.
Her gaze wandered over the pile, amazed at the sheer amount of items that filled the tomb, placed there in the hopes it would all be of use to the queen in the afterlife. She could easily envision the vase filled with wine, sitting on the queen’s table next to a bowl of fruit, the queen herself lazing on a chaise lounge nearby, servants fanning her with large palm leaves—
