Page 30 of Tour Wars
Wasn’t she going to mention last night? Or explain why she’d ignored his texts?
He made no attempt to hide his irritation. “What happened with Luca after I left the restaurant?”
“Not much. We talked for about an hour, but that was it.”
“Nothing else happened?”
For that, he got an eyebrow raise. “Were you expecting more?”
He knew that tone. She was skirting the edge of grumpiness—probably because she didn’t want to discuss it any further. If he pushed too hard, she’d go into prickly hedgehog mode. But he wanted answers. “Why didn’t you respond to my messages? I was worried about you.”
She frowned. “I don’t think Luca would have appreciated it if I’d texted you while he was talking to me. I didn’t want to piss him off.”
TJ downed half his cappuccino and ate a few bites of apple cake, hoping the caffeine and carbs would put him in a better frame of mind. But he was too peevish to behave rationally. “What about the text I sent after that? You should have let me know you were okay.” Even to his own ears, he sounded needy and possessive, but he wanted her to understand how concerned he’d been.
“I was exhausted, and there was nothing for you to be worried about. I can take care of myself.”
“I know, but these aren’t normal circumstances. Didn’t you say you got a creepy vibe from Luca when he went on your tour in Pompeii?”
She closed the binder. “Can we drop it? Please? Yes, he’s a little intense, and I could do without being called ‘bellissima,’ but he’s also Angelo’s nephew, and he’s got a lot of power. Sharing a drink with him wasn’t a huge hardship. I figure if I stroke his ego once in a while, that should be enough to keep him happy.”
“Is thatallyou plan on stroking? If you want to hook up with him, then don’t let me stop you.” He was acting like a dick, but he couldn’t help himself.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, the hurt evident on her face. “Seriously? What the fuck?” Grabbing her plate and coffee cup, she stood abruptly. “I’m not hooking up withanyone. Just let me do my job.”
He held up the binder. “Do you want—”
“No. You hang on to it.” She moved to a table across the room and slammed down her plate for emphasis.
Now you’ve screwed up everything.He hadn’t meant to lash out, but he was worried she wasn’t taking Luca seriously enough. Maybe the bastard hadn’t made a move on her yet, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try it later. First, he’d earn her trust, and then he’d lure her into his trap.
TJ ate his breakfast in silence, trying to banish his toxic thoughts by studying the binder. Though he’d reviewed the section on the Colosseum last week, he could use a quick refresh. At seven thirty, when the guests were set to arrive, he stood and took a deep breath. If he and Emilia were going to work together, he needed to make things right.
He walked over to her table. “Em?”
She didn’t spare him a glance. “What?”
“I’m sorry I was a jerk. I didn’t sleep well last night.” When she refused to meet his eyes, he kept going. “I can greet everyone this morning and answer their questions. Then I’ll remind them we’ll be gathering in the lobby at eight thirty.” He set down the binder. “Why don’t you take this for now?”
She nodded, then pointed to the buffet area. “The Mangolds are here. Better make sure there’s nothing they need.”
“Right.” He wanted to stay and talk with her, to smooth over the rough edges, but now wasn’t the time. He’d have to catch her alone later. “Enjoy your breakfast.”
He went to the buffet table and greeted the couple. They had a slew of questions, mostly about things he’d already told them at last night’s reception. The rest of the group trickled in slowly. Most seemed pleased at the breakfast offerings, but Sylvie Galloway pulled him aside with a sour look on her face. Today, she was decked out in a flowy purple caftan and a chunky necklace made of silver and turquoise. Beside her were her three friends, similarly dressed.
“There are far too many sweets here,” she said. “If we eat these, we’ll have a sugar crash by noon.”
“Italian breakfasts tend to be heavy on the sweet options,” he said. “But that table over there has cured meats, cheeses, and hard-boiled eggs. Plenty of protein.”
“Plenty of fattening, unhealthy protein, you mean.” She sniffed. “I’d like an egg-white omelet with fresh herbs. Please tell the cook to make one up immediately.” She turned to one of her friends. “Doesn’t that sound good?”
“It does,” the woman said. “I’ll have one, too. With fresh tomatoes.”
As far as TJ knew, the hotel didn’t have an actual restaurant, just a buffet and a bar. “Um…I’m not sure that’s an option.”
“Of course it is,” Sylvie said. “There are eggs here, aren’t there? How hard can it be to prepare an omelet? If need be, I’ll do it myself. I’m an excellent cook.”
He could only imagine how wellthatwould go over with the hotel staff. “No need. I can go ask.”
