Page 15 of Tour Wars
“Go change!” Giada barked. “While you’re at it, put on some lipstick.”
When TJ started laughing, Emilia shot him a withering glare, then tromped off to the restroom to change. The clingy shirt made her feel far too exposed, but she wasn’t about to ignore Giada’s orders. Not when the woman would report any infraction to her boss.
As Emilia came out, Giada was waving a large group over. With practiced efficiency, she greeted them enthusiastically, divided them up, and distributed their headsets. On tours like these, TJ and Emilia were meant to keep the entire group together, even though they often had to split up to herd their sections into the smaller spaces on the site.
Emilia put on her headset and adjusted her mini microphone. Remembering to smile, she gestured for her group to move in closer. Most of them looked to be at least sixty, if not older, but none were using a cane or a walker, which was a relief. More than one person had gotten injured on the uneven stones lining the ancient Roman roads at Pompeii.
“Buongiorno!” she called out. “I’m Dr. Emilia Flores, an archaeologist from the United States, and I’m working here at Pompeii on a six-month excavation project. Getting to dig in a place with this much history has been amazing, and I can’t wait to tell you everything about it. During our tour, we’ll make a series of stops, clearly marked on the maps you’ve been given. I’ll try to explain everything in detail, but if you have questions, don’t hesitate to ask. Please try to keep together. The site is so big that it’s easy to get lost. Since it’s hot out, make sure to drink plenty of water, and let me know if you feel dizzy or need to rest in the shade.”
As she scanned the group to make sure everyone understood her, a tall man with slick dark hair and aviator shades approached them. If she had to guess, she’d say he was in his early thirties. He moved through the group effortlessly until he reached the front and took her hand. “Dr. Flores? I am Luca Roberti, and I’m here to observe your tour. I hope you won’t find my presence too intimidating.”
His voice was low and warm, so smooth and confident that it took her a moment to respond. He wasn’t just attractive; he was movie-star gorgeous, with a sense of presence. She swallowed, suddenly unnerved at the thought of keeping him entertained for the entire tour. He’d probably been to Pompeii before. If she didn’t want him to get bored, she’d need to channel as much positive energy as possible. No wonder Giada had asked her to smile.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “Thank you for joining my tour.”
“The pleasure is all mine, bellissima. What good luck to have such an alluring guide for my visit to Pompeii.”
Bellissima. It was a bold move on his part, calling her “very beautiful” from the second he met her. Then again, he was Italian. “Uh…thanks.” She turned her attention back to the group. “Let’s start the tour, shall we?”
* * *
The half-day touralways ended at the outdoor theater near the southern edge of Pompeii. Since everyone could spread out and sit on the ancient stone benches, she and TJ did this last part together. When they were in a rush, she liked being the one to wrap things up so that they wouldn’t run late. But since they were ten minutes ahead of schedule, she let him take the lead.
She drained the rest of her water bottle as he described the features of the outdoor theater and the type of performances it would have hosted, like musical comedies and Greek dramas. Even if he tended to be a little long-winded, his enthusiasm was admirable. He always sounded like there was nothing else he’d rather do than spend hours talking to tourists.
“Any last questions?” he asked.
An older dude with a shaggy white beard and a tie-dyed shirt raised his hand. “What about Pink Floyd? Didn’t they have a concert here in 1972?”
TJ grinned. “Good one. They did, but not at this theater. It’s too small. They held their concert at the big outdoor amphitheater at the eastern end of the site. We don’t include it on the tour because it takes about twenty minutes to get there.”
When the guy’s face fell, Emilia spoke up. She never wanted anyone to leave feeling unsatisfied. “You can walk over there if you want since you don’t have to be back on the bus until two. But then you might miss a chance to grab lunch.”
As if to cheer him up, TJ asked, “What’s your favorite Pink Floyd album? I’ll bet you’ve listened to all of them.”
“Echoes,” Tie-Dye said. “The old stuff’s the best. You?”
“Wish You Were Here. It’s a classic.” TJ gestured to Emilia. “Em is partial toDark Side of the Moon.”
How just like TJ to make her sound so basic. She’d barely given Pink Floyd a thought before coming to Pompeii. It just seemed like another example of “dad rock” enjoyed by white guys in their fifties and sixties. But since the Pink Floyd question came up a lot, TJ had made a playlist of their best albums and insisted she listen to it. She’d liked it more than she expected—something she had yet to divulge to him.
“Anyone else a Pink Floyd fan?” TJ asked.
While he entertained the crowd, Emilia inched away and found a quiet spot in the shade. She pulled out her phone and texted Giada.
All done. TJ’s finishing up at the theater. We’ll start heading back in 5 minutes.
Giada always wanted to be kept in the loop. Otherwise, she sent all-caps texts demanding to know their status.
Emilia recoiled as someone placed a hand on her shoulder. She dropped her phone, sending it clattering onto the stone steps. Before she could grab it, Luca bent down and picked it up. He handed it back to her, letting his fingers graze her palm. “So sorry, bellissima, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“It’s…ah…it’s okay.”
It wasn’t. Not really. She didn’t like anyone on the tours touching her. Given that their groups often squeezed into tight spaces, she needed people to respect her physical boundaries. Normally, she shut down the handsy types with a glare, but when Luca had brushed up against her—more than once—she’d put up with it because he was her boss’s nephew. She hadn’t snapped at him when his hand had rested on her back or even when it had grazed her ass. But after the way he’d behaved on her tour, she didn’t want to spend any more time around him than necessary.
He pinned her in his gaze, making it impossible for her to look away. “I wanted to tell you what a marvelous job you did. Your passion for ancient history made the site come alive.”
He was standing so close that she caught a powerful whiff of his aftershave. Something with sandalwood. A bit too potent for her liking. She tried to shake off her uneasiness. In fifteen minutes, the tour would be over, and she wouldn’t have to deal with him any longer.
