Page 33 of Tour Wars
Thank the goddess he’d gone off on his own today to deal with business in Rome.
“Come on,” Cesca said. “My cousin works at a place nearby. We can sit there and gossip for hours, no problem.”
“Sounds great.” She followed Cesca away from the crowds gathered around the Colosseum and crossed onto a stretch of sidewalk lined with souvenir shops. Tourists pawed through spinner racks filled with postcards, key chains, and magnets. Every store displayed the same items, most selling for a couple of euros or less. Cesca skirted around them and led Emilia down a narrow side street toward a small café with a few tables set in the shade. Two of them were occupied, but Cesca placed her backpack on the remaining one.
“I’ll grab us some drinks,” she said. “What do you want? Caffè? Cappuccino?”
Emilia fished her wallet out of her pocket. “I’ll take a cappuccino.”
“Don’t worry about the money. My cousin never lets me pay. I’ll be right back.” Cesca ducked into the café.
A stray cat brushed against Emilia’s ankles. When she scratched it on the head, it gave a sweet meow. Rome had a lot of stray cats—so many, in fact, that they appeared in postcards and calendars. She wished she had something to feed this one. Next time she went to the grocery store, she’d buy a few pouches of kitty treats.
Cesca returned with two ceramic cups and set one in front of Emilia. “Your drink, signora.”
“Thanks,” Emilia said. “I have to ask—is this what you usually do when your group is on a tour? Relax and have coffee?”
“Most of the time, I’m the one giving the tours. I assume Buon Viaggio operates the same way. Rome’s different from a lot of our other stops because there are scads of local guides, and they don’t appreciate outsiders. Not many other sites in the south are like that except Pompeii, but it sounds like you’re an expert there.”
“I could do that tour in my sleep.” Emilia took a tentative sip of her cappuccino. Still piping hot, so she forced herself to set it to the side. “Are you from Rome?”
“Napoli. Grew up there but came here for university. I started working as a guide during the summers and ended up doing it full-time once I graduated. I’ve been with Roman Pathways for five years.”
“And you’re not tired of it?” Emilia couldn’t imagine being a guide for that long, leading tourists through the same sites over and over.
“I usually do the weeklong excursions, so there’s a lot of variety. I’ve been all over the country—the Lake District, Tuscany, Sicily, Sardinia, you name it. Not like these Colosseum guides—the same thing, day after day. On the longer tours, you always get a fair amount of drama, and if you’re lucky, a little romance. I live for that.”
“I can see the appeal, but I’m not big on socializing. TJ and I are doing this as a side job, so we didn’t have a lot of training. And that binder he was talking about? It’s five hundred pages, and we’re supposed to memorize all of it. We’re lucky we can split up the responsibilities.”
Cesca brought a bag of shortbread biscuits out of her backpack. She opened the bag and passed it to Emilia. “Want some?”
“Thanks.” Emilia took two. She dunked a biscuit in her cappuccino, then popped it in her mouth. The crispy, buttery shortbread went perfectly with coffee.
“You said you came out here to work at Pompeii, right?” Cesca asked. “Was that what you wanted? Wouldn’t a post at a university pay better? Or do you prefer doing fieldwork?”
Emilia sighed. “I’ve always loved being in the field, but that wasn’t my goal when I got my PhD. I wanted a teaching job.” She went on to explain the hoops she’d jumped through, only to end up without a single offer. “I lucked out when I got a traveling fellowship, though I didn’t expect TJ to get one as well. If it wasn’t bad enough that we spent the entire academic year competing for the same jobs, now we’re stuck working at Pompeii together.”
Cesca took another biscuit out of the bag. “Wait. So you and TJaren’ta couple? I assumed you were together since most tours only have one leader.”
“We’re not together. If anything, we’re…” She was about to say “rivals” but stopped herself. She was getting tired of keeping up this ruse. Of acting like TJ was her sworn enemy when he’d been nothing but supportive.
“You’re what?” Cesca asked with a smirk. “Friends with benefits? Rivals who occasionally succumb to a little hate-fucking? I won’t judge.”
A plaintive meow caught Emilia’s attention. This time, it was a tabby cat with a white star on its forehead. She took a moment to pet it while trying to come up with a response. “Neither of those things. Even if we wanted to have sex, it’s forbidden while leading this tour.”
“Oh, please. It’s not as if Mateo wasn’t grabbing every piece of ass available. How else do you think he got all those rave reviews?”
Emilia laughed so hard she almost spit out her coffee. She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “But the rules seemed ironclad.”
“Maybe so, but I’m sure your boss knew what Mateo was up to. He probably turned a blind eye because Mateo’s a man. Typical.” Cesca’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “What if youcouldhave sex with TJ? Would you?”
“Of course not.” Emilia crumpled her napkin into a little ball. “We fight constantly.”
“But do you enjoy it? Does challenging him rev up your motor, so to speak?”
Emilia let out a groan. Why was she denying it? Ever since she’d met TJ in Turkey last year, she’d gotten a rush out of arguing with him. Trying to beat him at everything and rejoicing in those rare moments of victory. There were times when he’d genuinely infuriated her, like with the hotel in Istanbul or the panel session in Philadelphia. But the rest of the time? Being around him made her feel alive.
“Honestly? We both get a charge out of fighting with each other,” she said. “Is that twisted or what?”
