"I'll be back in New Orleans tomorrow." She couldn't wait to be home again where everything was familiar.
"Well look on that bright side, Tory. Whoever the dickhead was, you'll never have to worry about seeing him here."
That was true. Tomorrow she'd be home and she'd never see that asshole again.
CHAPTER TWO
Tory's dignity was still stinging two days later as she knocked on the office door of Dr. Julian Alexander. He was supposed to be the leading expert in the world on ancient Greece. She'd been told that if anyone in the world could read her journal, he was the man.
She prayed it was so.
A deep masculine voice told her to enter.
She pushed the door open to find an exceptionally handsome man in his early thirties sitting behind a beat-up wooden desk. He had short blond hair and beautiful blue eyes that seemed to gleam in the dim light. His office was littered with ancient Greek artifacts, including a Bronze Age sword hanging on the wall behind him. Bookshelves lined the walls and were filled past brimming with additional artifacts and textbooks.
Man, she could easily call this place home and was grateful to be with a kindred spirit. Even though she didn't know him, she liked him already.
"Dr. Alexander?"
Looking up, he frowned at her as he closed his leatherbound agenda. "You're not one of my students. Are you considering taking one of my classes?"
She hated how young she looked at times, not that she was any older than an average grad student, but still . . . she had a hard enough time with her credibility that she didn't need that strike, too. "No. I'm Dr. Kafieri. We spoke over the phone."
He stood up immediately and offered her his hand. "Sorry for the confusion," he said graciously as she shook it. "I'm really glad to finally meet you. I've heard a lot of . . ."
"Mixed things I'm sure."
He laughed good-naturedly. "Well, you know how our circles go."
"Not broad enough most days."
He laughed again. "True. Do you have the book with you?"
She set her briefcase down on the small chair in front of his desk and opened it. She'd very carefully wrapped the book in acid free paper to protect its delicate condition. "It's extremely brittle."
"I'll be careful."
She watched as he unwrapped it and frowned. "Is something wrong?"
"No," he said with a note of awed reverence in his voice, "it's just amazing. I've never seen a bound book this old."
By his face she'd say it also brought back some kind of painful memories for him. "Can you read it?"
He opened the cover carefully before he studied the brittle pages. "It looks Greek."
"Yes, but can you read it?" she repeated, hoping that he could at least recognize some part of it.
He looked up and sighed. "Honestly? I can make out some of the words from basic root meanings, but this particular dialect is something I've never seen before. It definitely predates my area of expertise . . . probably by several hundred years or more."
She wanted to curse in frustration. She was so tired of hearing that. "Do you know of anyone who might be able to translate it?"
"Yeah, actually, I do."
It took a full minute for that unexpected answer to seep in. Dare she even hope so? "Are you serious?"
He nodded. "He's the historian I always go to whenever I need information. There's no one in the universe who knows more about ancient civilizations than he does. In fact, he knows so much about them you'd think he lived through them."
This was even better than she'd hoped for.
"Where does he teach?"
Julian closed the book and wrapped it back up. "Ironically, he doesn't. But you're in luck, he's here in town for a few weeks helping with Project Home Again and Habitat for Humanity."
Her heart was racing with the prospect of having someone corroborate that the book was as old as Atlantis—to have them verify it was Atlantean in nature . . .
It would be a dream come true if he could actually read some of it.
"Is there any chance we could meet with him?" she asked breathlessly.
"Hold on a second and let me see." He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed it.
Tory chewed her thumbnail and silently prayed to talk to the one man who held the key to her book. She'd give anything to meet him . . .
Julian smiled at her. "Hi Acheron, it's Julian Alexander. How you doing?"
She could faintly hear the voice at the other end of the phone.
Julian laughed at something the man said. "Leave it to you . . . look the reason I'm calling is I have a colleague here in my office who has something we need you to take a look at—I personally have never seen anything like it, and I think from a historic point of view you'd be very interested in it, too. Any chance we can stop by?" He shook his head. "Yeah, it's some really old shit—nice phraseology, by the way." He paused as he listened. "Yeah, okay."
Julian looked at her. "Can you leave right now to see him?"
"Absolutely." She'd crawl over broken glass to meet the man!