Page 13 of Tour Wars
“Yeah. I’ve gotten enough scholarships that my student debt isn’t too overwhelming. But even without a massive loan looming over my head, I’m in crappy financial shape. I barely have any savings.”
“Same here, and once this job ends, I’ve got nothing lined up. If I can’t find a contract archaeology gig, I could always move back home and work at my dad’s landscaping company or my aunt’s garden shop. The Flores family takes care of their own. But I’m twenty-eight, damn it.”
He envied her, coming from a large Mexican American family that genuinely seemed to care about each other. They were probably a lot less focused on making six figures than his stepdad was.
“I’ll be twenty-nine next month,” he said. “A little old to end up in my childhood bedroom. And honestly? I’d rather live in a shack than move back home. My stepbrothers wouldneverlet me hear the end of it.”
When the train arrived at the platform, they got on board. He followed Emilia to the back of the car, where they found two aisle seats across from each other.
Rather than lapse into silence, she kept the conversation going. “Do you ever worry about what comes next? I get so tired of scrambling for work.”
“Me too. But then I remind myself that, right now, I love what I’m doing. I mean, other than guiding hormonal teenage boys through the brothel.”
She snorted with laughter. “Paulo and I were talking about that yesterday. Maybe if they installed some neon signs and brightened up the sex paintings, it would be less disappointing.”
A flicker of annoyance flared up inside of him. “You and Paulo, huh? When are the two of you planningyourgetaway?”
Her familiar scowl returned. “Jealous?”
“Hardly. But…fair warning, he gets around. At least that’s what Marie told me. She worked with him at Pompeii two years ago.”
“I’m sure she loved sharing that tidbit of information now that you two have been getting cozy,Theo. I didn’t realize you’d started going by your real name.”
Her irritation filled him with a swell of glee. “I haven’t. It’s a special privilege, reserved only for a select few.” He was tempted to push the joke further, but he couldn’t risk antagonizing Emilia, not when they had to spend the next eight hours giving tours together. “I’m kidding. Marie took it on herself to call me Theo, but I prefer TJ.”
“Really? Why?” This time, there was no snark in her tone, just curiosity.
“Because Theodore was my dad’s name. Even though he’s been gone for seventeen years, I still feel like it belongs to him. My younger sister, Romily, started calling me TJ when she was two, and the name stuck.”
“She’s the one who’s into rom-coms, right? I remember you mentioning her last summer.”
“Yep. She loves them. She had a rough time in middle school, but watching those movies always cheered her up. You can judge me if you want, but I can’t resist a good rom-com.”
“Is that what you’re hoping for with Marie?” Emilia asked in a mocking voice. “A jaunt along the Amalfi Coast, worthy of a Netflix rom-com?”
Why was Em being so petty? “What have you got against Marie, anyway? She’s always nice to you.”
Emilia’s jaw tightened. “On one of our first weekends here, she invited me to join her friends in Positano. I went with them but regretted it right away. Here they were, blowing a small fortune on overpriced cocktails, and I could barely afford a beer. Dinner that night ate up most of my food budget for the week. I could tell she felt sorry for me, and I don’t need that shit.”
From what he knew of Emilia, she hated being the object of anyone’s pity. “I’m sure she was just being nice.”
“I don’t think so. Whenever she’s around me, she gives off this weird passive-aggressive vibe. Her friends don’t treat me that way, but I can tell she doesn’t like me.”
“Maybe she’s jealous of us. Because of our relationship.”
“Ourrelationship? What are you talking about?” Emilia’s voice was so loud that the woman next to her—a Sicilian grandma type dressed in black—gave them both the stink-eye.
He struggled to come up with a response that wouldn’t aggravate Emilia further. What they had wasn’t exactly a friendship, but they weren’t strangers, either. “The fact that we dug together as colleagues when we were at Troy last summer.” He frowned. “It didn’t help that you fed her that bullshit about us having sex in the Trojan horse.”
For this, the Sicilian grandma hissed at them.
“Lower your voice,” Emilia said. “I was just teasing. I didn’t mean it.”
“Didn’t you? The fact that you brought it up suggests you wanted it at some point.”
“Hell, no. It’s not like weeverwould have considered it.”
“That’s what you think.” He gave her a wolfish smile. “If you’d asked, I would have taken you up on it in a heartbeat.”
