For those who love Egypt and Egyptology!
Dr. Hannah Browning is the head Egyptologist at the British Museum in London. She is the only American in the institution and she knows her stuff, having gone to Egypt over a dozen times for excavations, and...
Hannah looked over at her British boss, the museum director Henry Fisher, who had just entered her workroom. "I'm almost done with this, Henry."
"You said that two hours ago," said the middle-aged man with brown hair and a slightly chubby face. "Amenhotep can wait one more night."
She huffed through her nose and looked down at the 3,000-year-old mummy. "Sorry, pal, looks like I have to get going." She put the glass cover over him.
"It's startling that the only men you talk to now are over 3,000 years old."
Hannah took her latex gloves off and threw them in the trash bin near her. "I prefer them to the live ones because they actually listen and never say a word back."
Dr. Fisher leaned against the door frame, shaking his head. "Seriously... would it kill you to go on one date with a live man? You haven't been on one in, what, six years?"
"I don't have time for the live ones."
"You're not getting any younger you know—you're already thirty-two."
Hannah huffed, giving her boss and family friend an irritated look. "Thanks for reminding me. Look, I don't have friends or boyfriends because I'm around dead guys all the time."
She exited her spacious workroom, which had two dozen artifacts, including stone tablets, cabinets, idols, ancient weapons and Amenhotep's sarcophagus. Her boss followed her.
"And speaking of live men," said Dr. Fisher as they walked on to Hannah's office, down a long hall from her spacious workroom, "the Egyptologist from the Cairo Museum is coming in tomorrow."
"Yeah, I know."
"He's a young lad, but don't let that baby face fool you. He's quite the genius."
"I've seen a picture of him. How old is he again?"
"Twenty-five."
"Gosh, twenty-five with two doctorate degrees... impressive. I had only finished my first one by twenty-five." She smiled at her boss, trying to be convincing. "I'll be on my best behavior."
He grunted. "Best behavior, my arse. Just try not to bite his head off and get at him because he's young."
"I'll do my best."
They came to her office door. "Goodnight, Henry."
"Goodnight, Hannah. Sweet dreams of mummies and sand and such."
"Thank you, Henry. You as well."
He walked away saying, "I'd rather dream of those dog-headed men. Goodnight."
Hannah smiled, amused, and went into her office. She pulled out her ponytail holder and her straight blonde hair fell passed her shoulders to mid-upper arm. She chuckled again. That boss of hers was a hoot. Her parents were good friends with him, her mother being British. That was how she was able to land the job. That, along with her love of Egypt, intelligence in the field of Egyptology, and her three doctorates. Not that she liked to brag, of course.
Hannah pulled out her black smartphone and saw that Edward Zuberi called three hours ago, but her phone was on silent because she needed to concentrate on preparing Amenhotep. She had gotten his phone number from his file that was sent over to the museum electronically.
"I'm sure he'll understand," she muttered.
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She put her phone in her pocket and got her things together and left the museum. She really was looking forward to meeting this guy—this young guy—and seeing what he was made of. She needed someone up to par with archaeology, Egyptian history, and someone who had Ancient Egyptian language skills in order to pull this new exhibit off.
"I've seen his resume, so hopefully he's as good as it says."
