Page 8 of Tour Wars
“I’ll try to make it.” Setting his napkin on his plate, he left the two of them.
Why couldn’t he be at that stage of his life? With a job he liked, a partner he cared about, and a sense his career was on track. Instead, he was floundering, unsure of where the road would take him. He’d always been so driven, willing to do whatever it took to get ahead in academia so that he could follow in his late father’s footsteps. But the ball wasn’t in his court anymore.
Once he was outside, he regretted his decision immediately. Philadelphia in January was bitterly cold, with an icy wind that cut through his suit jacket. The streets were covered with a mix of slush and ice that could easily destroy his only pair of decent loafers. Within minutes, he turned around and headed back to the hotel.
After checking his appearance in the men’s restroom, he made his way to the wing of the hotel reserved for interviews. Outside the row of suites was a small waiting area filled with sharply dressed grad students. None of them looked happy to be there.
As he was about to join them, someone cursed behind him. “Fuck me. Not you again.”
At the sight of Emilia, regret and shame washed over him. Even if she’d been the one to initiate last night’s kiss, he shouldn’t have kept going. “Hey, Em. Can we talk?”
She let out an exasperated breath. “Can we not?”
He still found it hard to reconcile this polished version of Emilia with the woman he’d known last summer. On the rare occasions when she’d changed out of her grubby dig clothes, she’d rarely worn anything fancier than a sundress. But today, her hair was pulled into a bun, her makeup was flawless, and she was clad in the same navy blazer and pencil skirt she’d worn for yesterday’s panel. And the same heels. They accentuated her calves, which were toned from years of running.
She growled. “You’re staring.”
“Sorry. You look nice. Um…professional.”
“I can be professional when the occasion calls for it. What do you want?”
“To apologize for last night. I was just trying to make sure you got to your room safely. It wasn’t my plan to hit on you. And then I left abruptly and—”
“By the goddess, stop talking. Please.” She rubbed her temples. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I was drunk and horny and made a mistake. Don’t give it another thought.”
But hehadgiven it another thought. All through his steaming-hot shower and in bed afterward, he’d fantasized about her. About what he’d do if they could ever move past their animosity and give in to the physical attraction simmering beneath the surface. But he wasn’t about to share that with her.
“I won’t mention it again, but can we call a truce while we’re at this conference?” He put out his hand. “Friends?”
A pained expression crossed her face. Did she regret the way he’d ended things last night? Had she wanted him to stay? Was she secretly wishing they’d done more than kiss?
But she quickly dispelled his delusions with a firm shake of her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We both need to focus, and we’re competing for the same teaching positions.”
She joined the others in the waiting area, choosing to lean against the wall rather than take the last available chair. Meanwhile, he stood there like an idiot, wishing he hadn’t said anything. Even if he’d spent far too long dreaming of her last night, she’d clearly dismissed the entire incident.
Besides, she was right. He needed to focus on his interviews.
He couldn’t waste another minute obsessing over her.
Even if she did look really hot in those heels.
CHAPTERFOUR
Seven Months Later
Emilia maneuvered her way around the crush of people clogging the Via dell ‘Abbondanza—one of the wide stone streets that traversed the archaeological ruins of Pompeii. Even at six in the evening, the place was crawling with tourists. Given that August was almost over, the summer travel season should have been winding down. Instead, the site was packed from the moment it opened until the gates closed at eight. All the more reason Emilia was grateful to be working in an area that was off-limits to visitors.
A familiar voice called out her name. “Emilia. Wait up.”
Smiling, she halted until Paulo caught up to her. Over the past three months, they’d grown close while working together at Pompeii. Though she’d done little more than flirt with him, she could easily see herself succumbing to his charms. What did it matter if he had a reputation as a player? He was smart, fun, and easy on the eyes, with a sexy Italian accent tailor-made for seduction.
It was high time she ended her dating hiatus. Or at least indulged in a casual hookup. As long as she didn’t fall in love again, she wouldn’t get her heart broken.
“Hey, Paulo. Ready to head back?” She took off her baseball cap and wiped the sweat from her forehead. The sun had been brutal today, with the midday temperature spiking to ninety degrees. “I’m so glad it’s Friday. I’m dying for a cold beer.”
“Enjoy it while you can since you’re on duty here this weekend.”
“I am?” A sinking sense of dread overtook her as she recalled penciling her name on the master calendar earlier in the week. “Shit. I totally forgot.”
