Page 68 of Tour Wars
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
During her morning commute on the train from Ercolano to Pompeii, Emilia could barely keep her usual scowl in place. It was hard reverting to her grouchy persona when she was positively bubbling over with good vibes and steamy memories. She couldn’t even look TJ in the eye for fear she’d start grinning like a lovesick idiot.
Why had she suggested they wait two weeks before revealing their feelings? She needed to reassess. Sitting this close to TJ and not touching him or even sharing a smile was maddening.
After their ride into Pompeii, she was free from temptation since she spent all day in the lab, working with the archaeobotanical team. They’d set up a flotation tank to separate out the carbonized plant remains and animal bones they’d excavated from the west corner of the kitchen. Emilia kept herself busy, jotting down notes, sharing observations with Paulo, and comparing their finds to the botanical material they’d found in the garden area of the house. An hour and a half before the end of the workday, she received a text from Giada, asking her to report to the Roberti brothers for a tour debriefing session.
Finally. She cleaned up her station, told Paulo where she was going, and headed out. Unlike the first time she’d been summoned to Dr. Roberti’s office, she wasn’t burdened with trepidation. Even if the reviews for the tour had yet to come in, she and TJ had done an outstanding job. During their final breakfast with the guests in Rome, they’d received lavish compliments and generous tips. The Golden Girls had even invited her to visit them in New Mexico once she was back home in the States.
Outside the office, TJ stood waiting with the binder tucked under his arm. He flashed her a quick smile. “Hey, you. Ready to bask in the stunning success of our kick-ass tour?”
“More than ready. Can we go in yet?”
“Giada told me to wait. You know how much she loves bossing us around.”
Emilia snickered. “I’m sure it killed her that we led a tour for ten days without her telling us what to do.” She raked her gaze over him. “You’re looking good, by the way. I had a hard time controlling myself on the train this morning.”
“Same. Any chance we could cut our wait time to one week instead of two? I can’t handle not touching you.”
Before Emilia could reply, Giada opened the door and poked her head out. “Emilia. You first.”
“Can’t we go in together?” she asked. “We were both leading the same tour.”
Giada frowned. “Nope. The Robertis want to talk to each of you separately.”
All of a sudden, the meeting felt more like a police interrogation than a friendly debriefing, but Emilia wasn’t about to argue. Once it was over, she’d be receiving a hefty paycheck. Even if TJ had agreed to give her his half of the pay, she wasn’t holding him to his promise. Instead, she was going to suggest they use the money for their weekend getaways. Would it be more prudent to pay off some of their debt? Possibly. But she’d rather spend it on hotels in Naples and Sorrento without worrying about the cost.
When she entered the room, she almost tripped over a pile of books. The office was even more cluttered than she remembered, the shelves crammed with artifacts, buckets, and folios. Despite the onset of cooler weather, the space was uncomfortably stifling. Dr. Roberti sat at his desk with his brother Angelo beside him. Giada went to stand next to them and gestured for Emilia to sit in the folding chair facing the desk.
Emilia eased into the chair and offered the two men a gracious smile. “Good afternoon. I want to thank you for the privilege of leading a tour through Italy. It was a real delight. Did you have a chance to review the report TJ and I sent?”
Angelo nodded. “I glanced at it. Very thorough, which I appreciate.”
But he wasn’t smiling, and neither was his brother. Her heart rate accelerated as they continued staring at her. Not in gratitude but with judgmental expressions that suggested she was on trial.
Wasshe on trial? She’d done nothing wrong. Unless Angelo had found out what she and TJ had done in Rome. But even then, they hadn’t broken the rules. They’d only had sexafterthe tour had ended.
With a hesitant voice, she forced herself to speak up. “Is there anything you wanted to ask me? About the tour? Or how it went?”
Angelo blew out a ragged breath. “As you know, our ratings are of the utmost importance. We’re a small company, so we can’t rely on our website or our social media presence to reel in tourists. We need word of mouth. Strong reviews. This way, when our tour comes up in a search on Viator or Tripadvisor or any other aggregator, travelers will choose it over Roman Pathways or one of the bigger companies offering the same services.”
Had someone left a bad review? Emilia tried to recall if any of the guests had acted disgruntled when they’d left, but she came up blank. “I’m sorry, but did one of our guests complain?”
Giada let out a snort. “On the contrary. You got a rave review.” She turned to Angelo. “May I show her?”
“Please do,” he said.
The older woman passed Emilia her phone. “This video was posted this morning. It’s a short overview of the tour—with more to come later—but the reviewer was quite exuberant in his praise.”
Emilia smiled at the sight of Davis’ face, front and center in the video. The subject line was“Best Italy Tour—Ever,”which boded well. She glanced up at Angelo, whostillwasn’t smiling, and tried to comprehend why he looked so peeved. “I don’t understand the issue. This looks great. Before he left, Davis told me he was going to work on it, but I’m amazed he posted it already. Did you watch the whole thing? Was it okay?”
Did they want her to watch itnow? If so, then she’d oblige, just to hear what Davis had to say. But Angelo gestured for her to return the phone, so she passed it back to Giada.
“We both watched it,” Dr. Roberti said. “Davis McGowan gave a glowing review of the tour overall and praised you in particular.”
“That’s good, right?”
Why did they look so angry? Why was Giada regarding her like she was a piece of dog shit on the sidewalk? Heat prickled the back of her neck. She had a sudden urge to turn on the box fan in the corner but forced herself to stay seated.
