Tour Wars, page 11
“Ha. That’s what they tell all the guests,” Cesca said. “A tour led by a ‘real archaeologist,’ when it’s usually someone who’s taken a few ancient history classes. Like me—one semester of Latin and two of Roman history, and that’s it.”
“No, we are archaeologists,” Emilia said. “With PhDs and everything. We came to Italy to work at Pompeii. Giving tours is our side hustle. We’re only doing this excursion as a onetime thing.”
“So you say, but don’t be surprised if you get sucked into the dark side. That’s what happened to me.” Cesca pulled out her phone and peeked at it. “We’ve got a few hours to kill, so let’s grab a caffè. I know a place nearby where we can sit for a while. You up for it?”
Maybe Cesca was used to taking off, but TJ didn’t want to risk leaving his post. On the chance Sandra contacted them with an emergency, she’d be mad if they were off having coffee. He’d hoped to use the break to talk with Emilia, but volunteering to stay with the bus might earn her forgiveness. “Em, you can go if you want. I’ll hang out by the bus in case there’s a crisis.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but the bus isn’t staying,” Cesca said. “None of them are.”
Nico finished his cigarette and ground out the butt with his boot. “She’s right. We can’t linger after drop-off. Too much air pollution. As a matter of fact, there were a few years when we weren’t allowed to drive around the historic district of Rome at all. I’ll be back after lunch to take all of you to the museum. Grab anything you need before I leave.”
“I’ll get the binder,” TJ said. “That way, I can brush up on my Roman facts while I’m waiting. If something comes up, I’ll handle it.”
Emilia brightened. “You sure?” When he nodded, she grinned at Cesca. “Lead on. I can always use more coffee.”
As she walked away, TJ fought off a pang of longing. He wanted to be the one sharing coffee with her. Maybe this afternoon, once they were done with the day’s excursion, he could seek her out alone and apologize again.
Emilia was tempted to stay behind with TJ. After their argument this morning, she wanted to smooth things over. True, he’d grossly overstepped when he made that comment about her hooking up with Luca, but he’d only said it out of frustration. Last night, he’d reached out to her three times, and she’d left him hanging. To be fair, she’d been exhausted, but a simple message like “I’m okay, thanks” would have gone a long way in reassuring him.
As it was, she wasn’t operating at full capacity. Falling asleep fully clothed had been a terrible idea. She’d woken at two, feeling out of sorts. After changing into her pajamas and brushing her teeth, she’d gone back to bed, only to toss and turn for hours. All because Luca had left her so unsettled. Even if he hadn’t made a move on her, he hadn’t kept things professional, either. He’d made too many comments about her appearance. And before bidding her good night, he’d kissed her on the cheek. She let it go without a word of protest, but she didn’t want him getting into the habit of it.
Thank the goddess he’d gone off on his own today to deal with business in Rome.
“Come on,” Cesca said. “My cousin works at a place nearby. We can sit there and gossip for hours, no problem.”
“Sounds great.” She followed Cesca away from the crowds gathered around the Colosseum and crossed onto a stretch of sidewalk lined with souvenir shops. Tourists pawed through spinner racks filled with postcards, key chains, and magnets. Every store displayed the same items, most selling for a couple of euros or less. Cesca skirted around them and led Emilia down a narrow side street toward a small café with a few tables set in the shade. Two of them were occupied, but Cesca placed her backpack on the remaining one.
“I’ll grab us some drinks,” she said. “What do you want? Caffè? Cappuccino?”
Emilia fished her wallet out of her pocket. “I’ll take a cappuccino.”
“Don’t worry about the money. My cousin never lets me pay. I’ll be right back.” Cesca ducked into the café.
A stray cat brushed against Emilia’s ankles. When she scratched it on the head, it gave a sweet meow. Rome had a lot of stray cats—so many, in fact, that they appeared in postcards and calendars. She wished she had something to feed this one. Next time she went to the grocery store, she’d buy a few pouches of kitty treats.
Cesca returned with two ceramic cups and set one in front of Emilia. “Your drink, signora.”
“Thanks,” Emilia said. “I have to ask—is this what you usually do when your group is on a tour? Relax and have coffee?”
“Most of the time, I’m the one giving the tours. I assume Buon Viaggio operates the same way. Rome’s different from a lot of our other stops because there are scads of local guides, and they don’t appreciate outsiders. Not many other sites in the south are like that except Pompeii, but it sounds like you’re an expert there.”
“I could do that tour in my sleep.” Emilia took a tentative sip of her cappuccino. Still piping hot, so she forced herself to set it to the side. “Are you from Rome?”
“Napoli. Grew up there but came here for university. I started working as a guide during the summers and ended up doing it full-time once I graduated. I’ve been with Roman Pathways for five years.”
“And you’re not tired of it?” Emilia couldn’t imagine being a guide for that long, leading tourists through the same sites over and over.
“I usually do the weeklong excursions, so there’s a lot of variety. I’ve been all over the country—the Lake District, Tuscany, Sicily, Sardinia, you name it. Not like these Colosseum guides—the same thing, day after day. On the longer tours, you always get a fair amount of drama, and if you’re lucky, a little romance. I live for that.”
“I can see the appeal, but I’m not big on socializing. TJ and I are doing this as a side job, so we didn’t have a lot of training. And that binder he was talking about? It’s five hundred pages, and we’re supposed to memorize all of it. We’re lucky we can split up the responsibilities.”
Cesca brought a bag of shortbread biscuits out of her backpack. She opened the bag and passed it to Emilia. “Want some?”
“Thanks.” Emilia took two. She dunked a biscuit in her cappuccino, then popped it in her mouth. The crispy, buttery shortbread went perfectly with coffee.
“You said you came out here to work at Pompeii, right?” Cesca asked. “Was that what you wanted? Wouldn’t a post at a university pay better? Or do you prefer doing fieldwork?”
Emilia sighed. “I’ve always loved being in the field, but that wasn’t my goal when I got my PhD. I wanted a teaching job.” She went on to explain the hoops she’d jumped through, only to end up without a single offer. “I lucked out when I got a traveling fellowship, though I didn’t expect TJ to get one as well. If it wasn’t bad enough that we spent the entire academic year competing for the same jobs, now we’re stuck working at Pompeii together.”
Cesca took another biscuit out of the bag. “Wait. So you and TJ aren’t a couple? I assumed you were together since most tours only have one leader.”
“We’re not together. If anything, we’re…” She was about to say “rivals” but stopped herself. She was getting tired of keeping up this ruse. Of acting like TJ was her sworn enemy when he’d been nothing but supportive.
“You’re what?” Cesca asked with a smirk. “Friends with benefits? Rivals who occasionally succumb to a little hate-fucking? I won’t judge.”
A plaintive meow caught Emilia’s attention. This time, it was a tabby cat with a white star on its forehead. She took a moment to pet it while trying to come up with a response. “Neither of those things. Even if we wanted to have sex, it’s forbidden while leading this tour.”
“Oh, please. It’s not as if Mateo wasn’t grabbing every piece of ass available. How else do you think he got all those rave reviews?”
Emilia laughed so hard she almost spit out her coffee. She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “But the rules seemed ironclad.”
“Maybe so, but I’m sure your boss knew what Mateo was up to. He probably turned a blind eye because Mateo’s a man. Typical.” Cesca’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “What if you could have sex with TJ? Would you?”
“Of course not.” Emilia crumpled her napkin into a little ball. “We fight constantly.”
“But do you enjoy it? Does challenging him rev up your motor, so to speak?”
Emilia let out a groan. Why was she denying it? Ever since she’d met TJ in Turkey last year, she’d gotten a rush out of arguing with him. Trying to beat him at everything and rejoicing in those rare moments of victory. There were times when he’d genuinely infuriated her, like with the hotel in Istanbul or the panel session in Philadelphia. But the rest of the time? Being around him made her feel alive.
“Honestly? We both get a charge out of fighting with each other,” she said. “Is that twisted or what?”
“Nah, it’s hot as fuck.” Cesca laughed. “Sorry for all the cursing. I learned English watching HBO, and I can’t shake it.”
“It’s fine.” The salty language reminded Emilia of her friend Dusty.
“Now that you’ve admitted it, are you going to make things happen with TJ?”
“Why are you so invested in this? You literally met me two hours ago.”
“Like I said, I love drama. Forbidden-romance drama is even better. Do you want him or not?”
The more Emilia thought about it, the harder it was to deny her feelings. There had been that kiss in Philadelphia. A kiss that might have led to more if TJ hadn’t pulled away. In Pompeii, neither of them had hooked up with anyone else, even though Marie and Paulo had both made overtures. Then, TJ had turned down a trip to Greece to support her on the tour. Hell, he’d even offered to give her his share of the pay, just so she wouldn’t have to deal with Luca on her own. Once he’d committed to the tour, he’d been all in.
Though TJ might have been too intense this morning, it was only because he’d been worried about her. Not once had she thanked him for looking out for her. Instead, she’d totally shut him down.
“Hang on.” She pulled out her phone and texted TJ before she lost her nerve.
Sorry I was so grouchy this morning. Thanks for having my back.
He responded immediately.
I got you, Em. You only need to ask.
The fact that he’d replied without a second of hesitation filled her with an unexpected burst of emotion. Even if the two of them had come to Pompeii as rivals, the dynamic between them had changed. This was a guy who cared about her.
She rubbed her hands over her face. “Shit. I’m so doomed.”
Cesca leaned in closer. “Hardly. You just need to figure out your next move.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TJ took a screenshot of Emilia’s text, in case his messages somehow disappeared into the cloud. He didn’t want to lose this one. Ever. He couldn’t believe she’d sent him an apology. During all their confrontations—at Troy and Pompeii—she’d never backed down from an argument. He wished he could talk to her now instead of having to wait until they were done with the day’s outing.
Seated on a bench in a small strip of green space near the Forum, he’d been studying the binder for the last two hours but was growing weary of it. After setting it down, he indulged in a little people-watching. Even if the summer was almost over, Rome appeared more crowded than when he’d first arrived in June. Endless groups lined up to enter the Colosseum, led by guides like the one Buon Viaggio was using.
How many of the tourists took the time to enjoy the sites they were visiting? Were they absorbing the history or counting the minutes until they could go back to their hotels and rest?
Until he started working at Pompeii, TJ had never taken a guided tour of anything. He liked visiting sites on his own or with a group of archaeologists. He also hated being rushed. Growing up, he’d been the nerdy kid who insisted on reading every placard in a museum exhibit. Give him four hours and a huge building stuffed with antiquities, and he was in heaven. Of all the places he’d visited, his favorite was the Field Museum in Chicago. His dad had taken him there so often that he’d memorized the permanent exhibits.
When his phone buzzed, he peeked at it, hoping Emilia had replied to his last text. Instead, he’d received a message from an unknown number.
SOS. Come immediately! Temple of Vesta.
It had to be from Sandra, the grouchy tour guide in charge of the group. Something must have happened. Despite his trepidation, the adrenaline rush made him feel like Batman receiving the signal from Commissioner Gordon. All he needed was a cape. He sent out a quick response, telling her he’d be there as soon as he could.
He stood up, fully prepared to sprint over to the Forum, but stopped short. Just where was the Temple of Vesta, anyway? He recalled what he’d read about it—an ancient Roman building that had once housed the holy fire of Vesta, tended by six Vestal Virgins. It was located somewhere in the Forum, but the area was so large, so packed with swarms of people, that he wanted to narrow down his search.
His phone vibrated with an incoming call from Emilia. He answered it on the first ring. “Hey, Em. You okay?”
“Yeah. Did you get that SOS from our guide?”
“I did, and I’m on it. Or I will be, once I figure out where the Temple of Vesta is.” With one hand, he propped open the binder, trying to find the right section.
“There’s a map of the Forum in section three of the binder, right after the stuff about the Colosseum. Cesca and I can meet you there. She knows where it is.”
While he could probably handle the emergency on his own, he didn’t want to reject Emilia’s offer. What if the situation was so dire he needed backup? “Thanks. I’ll see you there.”
He leafed through the binder until he found the right map. After taking a picture of it, he tucked the giant tome under his arm. Dodging past the Arch of Titus, he ran down the Via Sacra—the main street leading through the Forum. Back in ancient times, the Forum had served as the city’s foremost public meeting space, where Roman senators would gather to discuss politics. In addition to a public square, the area had held courthouses, temples, and monuments. Now, it was so filled with tourists that TJ could barely move.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, hoping to stop it from dripping into his eyes. By now, the midday sun was at its peak. As he got closer to the temple, he paused, overwhelmed by the sheer mass of humanity. How was he supposed to find his group?
Look for red. That’s the Buon Viaggio color.
In the distance, Davis stood atop a stone plinth, waving a bright red flag. TJ ran over to him. Panting heavily, he caught his breath before speaking. “I…I’m here. Is everything okay?”
Sylvie Galloway strode over to him, her face blotched with rage. “Everything is not okay. My friend Alice nearly passed out from the heat.”
The tour group clustered in a circle on the grassy space next to the main pathway. At the center was Alice, who sat with her head between her knees.
TJ knelt beside her. “Alice? Are you all right?” Given that she was in her mid-seventies and slightly frail in appearance, he hoped her fatigue was weather-related and not due to a serious medical condition.
She raised her head to face him. Unlike Sylvie, she appeared more embarrassed than angry. “I just got so dizzy. I don’t think I drank enough water when we were at the Colosseum. I’m sorry for making a fuss, but I was afraid if I kept walking, I might pass out.”
The blond tour guide—Sandra—approached TJ with a frown. “We need to get going or we won’t be able to visit all the stops on our itinerary. Can you handle this situation or not?”
“Sure, I’ll take care of it.” TJ turned to Alice. “Do you want to continue with the group? If not, I could lead you at a slower pace or find you a taxi to the hotel.”
She reached over and patted his cheek. “Aren’t you a dear? I’m not ready to give up the ghost yet. Why don’t you lead me around? Even if you aren’t an expert, feel free to make things up. I won’t know the difference.”
He laughed. “I know enough to give you a basic overview.” He looked up at Sandra. “You can carry on. I’ll make sure we meet up with you at one, as planned.”
“Very well,” she snapped. “Let’s hope there are no more interruptions. We have a tight schedule.”
What did it matter if she finished the tour behind schedule? Then again, maybe she had another group lined up after this one and she needed some downtime in between. Having done back-to-back tours at Pompeii, he could sympathize. But she could still show a little more compassion.
Davis handed the tour flag back to Sandra. “Here you go. If you don’t mind, I’ll tag along on TJ’s tour. I’d rather go at a slower pace.”
“I’ll join you, as well,” Sylvie said. “Quite frankly, that Colosseum tour was exhausting.”
By now, Sandra was shooting daggers at TJ. He gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry. We should be good now.”
With a huff, she raised her flag high into the air. “Andiamo! We are marching.”
After the others had left, TJ viewed the motley trio with a touch of anxiety. It was one thing to take Alice on an impromptu tour but quite another to lead Davis and Sylvie, both of whom seemed very opinionated. “Um…I hope you realize I’m not exactly an expert on this area. I know a lot about Roman history, but—”
“But I’m here, so you don’t need to worry. Lucky for you, I memorized this part of the binder.” Emilia walked over to join them. Beside her was Cesca, the pink-haired guide he’d met earlier.
The sight of Emilia filled TJ with a burst of happiness. In an attempt to restore their usual dynamic, he smirked at her. “You think you can do a better job than I can, Dr. Flores?”
“Absolutely, Dr. Mayer. You didn’t even know where the Temple of Vesta was.”
Sylvie narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that true?”
