Tour Wars, page 10
After an hour, he’d tried again with no response. The same with his third message, sent an hour later. That was when he’d grown worried. Emilia might be a strong, independent woman who could fend for herself, but she wasn’t on an even playing field. Telling Luca to fuck off wasn’t an option, not without risking her job.
There could be another reason why Emilia hadn’t answered. A reason TJ didn’t want to consider, even as the negative voices in his head harped at him. What if she hadn’t replied because she was having fun with Luca? In theory, that wouldn’t be a bad thing, since she needed to stay on his good side. But the thought of her kissing that slick bastard made TJ heat up with a slow-burning anger.
This isn’t about protecting her. You’re jealous.
No, he wasn’t. He’d offered to co-lead the tour with her so that she wouldn’t have to deal with Luca on her own. So what if he had a bit of a “knight in shining armor” complex around women? Someone had to protect them from the wolves.
With a groan, he forced himself to sit up. At the sight of a text notification on his phone, he scrambled for his glasses, only to drop them on the floor. He groped around for them and put them on hastily. To his immense frustration, the message wasn’t from Emilia. Their bus driver had sent them both a text, reminding them that he’d be at the hotel by eight thirty.
TJ jumped into the shower, got dressed, and headed down to breakfast. To reach the buffet, he went out the back entrance and crossed the hotel’s inner courtyard. In the midst of a city filled with noise, traffic, and tourists, it served as a peaceful oasis, replete with shade trees, flowering bushes, and wrought iron patio tables. Birds trilled in the trees, and the faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air. Off to one side, a marble fountain burbled softly. If he could squeeze in an hour of downtime today, he’d sit out here and read.
The buffet was set up in a separate building on the other side of the courtyard, inside a large, open room surrounded by full-length windows. To TJ’s delight, the breakfast spread was lavish. One whole table was devoted to sweet offerings like cornetti, jam tarts, four different kinds of cake, and fresh bread with pots of honey, jam, and marmalade. Another held cold cuts, cheeses, hard-boiled eggs, yogurt, and bowls of fresh fruit. But the best feature of all was the pair of high-end coffee makers that occupied a third table.
A couple of servers bustled around the buffet, setting up the food, but no one was in the dining area other than Emilia. She sat at a table in the corner, flipping through the binder as she sipped her coffee.
He loaded up his plate and sat down across from her. Like him, she was wearing the ugly red company polo shirt. Her hair was back in a braid, but a few stray wisps had escaped, softening her appearance.
She glanced up with a faint smile. “Morning, TJ. Isn’t this a great spread? I was tempted to steal some cake for later.”
Wasn’t she going to mention last night? Or explain why she’d ignored his texts?
He made no attempt to hide his irritation. “What happened with Luca after I left the restaurant?”
“Not much. We talked for about an hour, but that was it.”
“Nothing else happened?”
For that, he got an eyebrow raise. “Were you expecting more?”
He knew that tone. She was skirting the edge of grumpiness—probably because she didn’t want to discuss it any further. If he pushed too hard, she’d go into prickly hedgehog mode. But he wanted answers. “Why didn’t you respond to my messages? I was worried about you.”
She frowned. “I don’t think Luca would have appreciated it if I’d texted you while he was talking to me. I didn’t want to piss him off.”
TJ downed half his cappuccino and ate a few bites of apple cake, hoping the caffeine and carbs would put him in a better frame of mind. But he was too peevish to behave rationally. “What about the text I sent after that? You should have let me know you were okay.” Even to his own ears, he sounded needy and possessive, but he wanted her to understand how concerned he’d been.
“I was exhausted, and there was nothing for you to be worried about. I can take care of myself.”
“I know, but these aren’t normal circumstances. Didn’t you say you got a creepy vibe from Luca when he went on your tour in Pompeii?”
She closed the binder. “Can we drop it? Please? Yes, he’s a little intense, and I could do without being called ‘bellissima,’ but he’s also Angelo’s nephew, and he’s got a lot of power. Sharing a drink with him wasn’t a huge hardship. I figure if I stroke his ego once in a while, that should be enough to keep him happy.”
“Is that all you plan on stroking? If you want to hook up with him, then don’t let me stop you.” He was acting like a dick, but he couldn’t help himself.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, the hurt evident on her face. “Seriously? What the fuck?” Grabbing her plate and coffee cup, she stood abruptly. “I’m not hooking up with anyone. Just let me do my job.”
He held up the binder. “Do you want—”
“No. You hang on to it.” She moved to a table across the room and slammed down her plate for emphasis.
Now you’ve screwed up everything. He hadn’t meant to lash out, but he was worried she wasn’t taking Luca seriously enough. Maybe the bastard hadn’t made a move on her yet, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try it later. First, he’d earn her trust, and then he’d lure her into his trap.
TJ ate his breakfast in silence, trying to banish his toxic thoughts by studying the binder. Though he’d reviewed the section on the Colosseum last week, he could use a quick refresh. At seven thirty, when the guests were set to arrive, he stood and took a deep breath. If he and Emilia were going to work together, he needed to make things right.
He walked over to her table. “Em?”
She didn’t spare him a glance. “What?”
“I’m sorry I was a jerk. I didn’t sleep well last night.” When she refused to meet his eyes, he kept going. “I can greet everyone this morning and answer their questions. Then I’ll remind them we’ll be gathering in the lobby at eight thirty.” He set down the binder. “Why don’t you take this for now?”
She nodded, then pointed to the buffet area. “The Mangolds are here. Better make sure there’s nothing they need.”
“Right.” He wanted to stay and talk with her, to smooth over the rough edges, but now wasn’t the time. He’d have to catch her alone later. “Enjoy your breakfast.”
He went to the buffet table and greeted the couple. They had a slew of questions, mostly about things he’d already told them at last night’s reception. The rest of the group trickled in slowly. Most seemed pleased at the breakfast offerings, but Sylvie Galloway pulled him aside with a sour look on her face. Today, she was decked out in a flowy purple caftan and a chunky necklace made of silver and turquoise. Beside her were her three friends, similarly dressed.
“There are far too many sweets here,” she said. “If we eat these, we’ll have a sugar crash by noon.”
“Italian breakfasts tend to be heavy on the sweet options,” he said. “But that table over there has cured meats, cheeses, and hard-boiled eggs. Plenty of protein.”
“Plenty of fattening, unhealthy protein, you mean.” She sniffed. “I’d like an egg-white omelet with fresh herbs. Please tell the cook to make one up immediately.” She turned to one of her friends. “Doesn’t that sound good?”
“It does,” the woman said. “I’ll have one, too. With fresh tomatoes.”
As far as TJ knew, the hotel didn’t have an actual restaurant, just a buffet and a bar. “Um…I’m not sure that’s an option.”
“Of course it is,” Sylvie said. “There are eggs here, aren’t there? How hard can it be to prepare an omelet? If need be, I’ll do it myself. I’m an excellent cook.”
He could only imagine how well that would go over with the hotel staff. “No need. I can go ask.”
First Emilia, and now this. His morning was not off to an auspicious start.
Throughout breakfast, TJ kept an eye on the guests. He dropped by each table to chat with them and ensure they were coming on the day’s excursion. With a little begging, he convinced the kitchen staff to make egg-white omelets for Sylvie and her friends. The only bright spot in the morning was the text he and Emilia had received from Luca informing them he’d be missing today’s tour due to business meetings in Rome. A minor victory at best, but TJ would take it.
At 8:20 a.m., he called everyone to attention and announced they’d meet in the lobby in ten minutes. He also reminded them to bring anything they’d need for the day, like water bottles and sunscreen, since they wouldn’t be returning to the hotel until five. Once the group had assembled in the lobby, he and Emilia herded them outside where their ride was waiting.
The bus did not disappoint—it was a luxury coach with comfy seats, Wi-Fi, and air-conditioning. TJ was grateful his duties didn’t include driving the bus. He couldn’t conceive of steering a behemoth like this through Rome’s frenetic traffic. Thankfully, their driver, Nico, had twenty years of experience.
Though TJ had exchanged texts with Nico before, this was his first time meeting the driver in person. Nico was a bear of a man—large, swarthy, and bearded—who looked like he could destroy you in a fight or engulf you in an enormous hug, depending on his mood.
He greeted TJ and Emilia warmly. “It’s good to meet you in person. Are we ready to embark?”
“We are,” Emilia said. “I’m so glad you’re driving. I can’t imagine piloting this beast through Rome.”
“Eh, you get used to it,” Nico said. “Besides, my bus is so big that everyone needs to get out of my way. Scooters and motorcycles are no match for me.”
“You have our itinerary?” TJ asked.
“On my phone. We shouldn’t have any problems. Of course, I can’t predict the traffic, the weather, or acts of God, but I can drive us anywhere buses are allowed.”
“Thank you so much,” Emilia said.
After all the passengers had boarded the bus, she placed the binder next to TJ and sat in the aisle seat across from him. From the way her head was drooping, he suspected she was still tired from last night. Rather than ask her to pitch in, he decided he’d take charge.
“I’m going to lead us off. That okay with you?”
When she nodded, he turned on the mic and began his spiel. “Buongiorno! Welcome to day two of the Buon Viaggio tour of southern Italy. If you’re thinking, ‘Wait, I’m meant to be with a different group,’ speak now or forever hold your peace. Anyone? Okay, so today is going to be all about ancient Rome. We’ll be taking you to the Colosseum, where a local expert will lead you on a four-hour tour, which includes the Forum and Palatine Hill. You’ll be in the shade a fair amount, but make sure to apply sunscreen and drink plenty of water. Any questions?”
“What about lunch?” Sylvie asked.
“At one, we’ll meet you at the end of the tour and walk to a nearby restaurant. After that, we’ll visit the Capitoline Museums, three buildings located in the Piazza del Campidoglio, housing an incredible collection of statues, paintings, and sculptures. We’ll return to the hotel by five for a bit of a rest before dinner at seven thirty.”
In all, it was an exhausting first day, especially since the temperature was expected to reach eighty degrees by noon. At least the bus and the museums would be air-conditioned.
“During our drive to the Colosseum, I’m going to give you a few fun facts about it,” TJ said. “In case you didn’t know, it’s one of the seven wonders of the world. By my count, I’ve only been to two of them, but I’m hoping to visit more. How about the rest of you? Have any of you visited the Colosseum before? Or any of the other six wonders, like the Taj Mahal, the Great Wall of China, or Machu Picchu?”
One thing he’d learned in giving tours of Pompeii was that people loved to recount their travel experiences—both good and bad. He was the same way. If anything, he’d been far more obnoxious in the past, constantly bragging about where he’d worked, acting like he was the most hard-core archaeologist on the planet.
As he tossed in a few jokes, he occasionally glanced at Emilia, hoping she’d respond with a smile. Instead, she was leaning back in her seat with her eyes closed. Was she tired? Fighting off a headache?
Or did she just want to be anywhere else but on this bus with him?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When the Buon Viaggio bus pulled up at their designated stop, TJ helped everyone disembark. The guests had been able to glimpse the massive Colosseum from the bus windows, but up close, it was more impressive than any postcard or photo could convey. Hard to believe an ancient monument of such significance could exist in the middle of a congested, modern city.
Though TJ had seen it numerous times before, the sight of it always filled him with awe. The largest amphitheater ever built, able to hold over fifty thousand people, a testament to the might of the Roman Empire. He could only imagine all the historic figures that had stepped through its gates—the powerful emperors, the fierce gladiators, the wily senators. At times like these, he had no regrets that he’d devoted so many years to studying ancient history.
With Emilia’s assistance, he handed out the wireless receivers that would allow each person in the group to listen to their guide via headphones. As he was finishing up, a tall, blond woman approached them. She looked to be in her thirties and was carrying a messenger bag with a bright red flag sticking out of it. TJ assumed she was the local expert who’d be giving this morning’s tour.
“Is this the Buon Viaggio group?” she asked.
“It is indeed,” he said. “Are you our guide? It’s nice to meet you. I’m TJ, and this is—”
“I need to get your group moving. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Is everyone ready?”
“They are, but—”
“I’ll be done at one o’clock. Sharp. You can collect your group at Palatine Hill by the Museo Palatino. Angelo sent me your contact information in case of emergency. If I text you, I expect you to answer immediately. Is this understood?”
Like he was going to argue? This stern woman wasn’t someone he wanted to mess with. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. Would you prefer it if one of us joined you on the tour? To help out?”
“Definitely not. I don’t need an amateur tour guide mucking things up. Just keep your phones on.” She addressed the group. “Everyone! Tune your receiver to channel 14. We are marching. If you lose sight of me, follow the red flag. Andiamo!”
Around them, similar groups were assembling. Some guides held up flags, while others carried umbrellas or signs, every one of them hoping to get their charges through the gates of the Colosseum when it opened at nine. Groups upon groups, speaking English, German, French, Italian, Spanish, and Japanese. A hop-on/hop-off bus pulled up, and a glut of people emerged, all hastening to reach the entrance. Even if TJ could appreciate the majesty of the Colosseum, he was grateful the cranky tour guide hadn’t wanted his assistance. With the site this crowded, he preferred to observe it from a distance.
As the group marched away, Emilia let out an audible shudder. “Holy crap. I thought I was grumpy, but that guide is next-level. She’s positively terrifying.”
Nico stepped off the bus and lit a cigarette. “You mean Sandra? She’s only like that at first because it’s so chaotic out here. Once she has the group together, she does a masterful job of leading them. She has a PhD in classical history and knows everything about the Colosseum.”
“She has a PhD?” TJ asked. “Why isn’t she teaching somewhere? Or working in a museum?”
“Eh.” Nico shrugged. “There are a lot of archaeologists and historians in Rome and only so many university jobs available.”
Ouch. Was that what TJ had to look forward to? Leading tours for the next two decades? “Does she do the same tour every day? It must get old.”
“I think she mixes it up,” Nico said. “But the Colosseum is so popular that she’s always in demand.”
A petite woman with olive-toned skin and a pink pixie cut approached them and addressed Nico in Italian. “Ciao, Nico. Do you have the scoop on Mateo? Did he get fired for misconduct? I’m pretty sure he was banging two women on his last tour.”
Nico waved his hand in dismissal. “Eh, he wouldn’t get fired for that. He was in a hiking accident, but he’s coming back next month. We’ve got two Americans leading the tour right now—TJ and Emilia.”
“Nice to meet you,” the woman said, switching to English. She eyeballed TJ. “You’re a cutie, though a little young for the women here. That Mateo, he was a silver fox. The ladies loved him.”
Emilia burst out laughing, but TJ was thrown off-kilter. Was this woman the Roman equivalent of Giada? “I’m sorry, but who are you? Do you work for Buon Viaggio?”
“Nope. I’m Francesca Scioretti, but everyone calls me Cesca.” She pointed to a coach bus parked behind theirs. “I’m with Roman Pathways Tours. Same shit, different bus. We’re one of your direct competitors, so we follow the same route as you. Get used to seeing a lot of us.”
“Wait,” TJ said. “I thought this was a ‘uniquely curated, one-of-a-kind experience.’ You mean to tell me there are other tours following the same itinerary?”
Cesca snorted. “Believe it. First of all, there are only so many places you can visit on a so-called ‘archaeological treasures of southern Italy’ tour, so we hit up the same sites. And second, it’s not always easy finding restaurants and hotels that want to accommodate large groups.” She cocked her head to the side. “How’d you two get roped into this gig? You’re obviously not Italian.”
TJ answered. “We were hired because we’re archaeologists, and—”
