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I gazed around the lobby. “I’m standing in the lobby. I don’t see anyone with a tour guide uniform.”
“Uniform? Ah, no, there is no uniform,” the man replied. “He is, ah, normal dressed, yes? Blue shirt. Jeans pants.”
I glanced at the guy sitting by the front door. “Blue shirt? Black hair?”
“Yes! Black hair! And, ah, hair on his face.”
“A beard?”
“A beard! Yes!”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said.
“No, I am quite serious! Do you see him? He is there…”
I hung up and strode across the lobby to the guy. Blue polo. Jeans. Black hair, and short-cropped beard. This was the guy all right. I stopped in front of him and crossed my arms.
“Do you speak English?” I asked.
Despite his dark features, his eyes were steel-grey, like storm clouds above a restless ocean. He blinked them at me and said, “Uh, yes?”
I hesitated. This was the kind of guy my girlfriends wanted to meet on the trip. Tall, dark, and handsome. Maybe thirty years old. Broad shoulders, wide chest, muscles that werestrongbut not too bulky.
He gazed up at me with curiosity, with the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. There was a tour pamphlet on his lap. The same tour I was taking. That confirmed it for me.
“I’ve been waiting here for thirty minutes,” I said.
“So have I,” he replied in a deep voice. He didn’t have any trace of an accent.
I gritted my teeth with annoyance. “I’ve been pacing back and forth. I even made eye contact with you earlier, but you didn’t come up to me.”
He tilted his head slightly. “You didn’t come up to me, either.”
“This is unbelievable.” I took a deep breath. “Well? Are you just going to sit there?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure what else to do,” he replied. His English wasverygood. He sounded American. That infuriated me even more.
I let out an annoyed groan.
And how did this guy react? Helaughedat me.
He chuckled like it was all a joke to him.
I knew this kind of guy. A guy who had skated through life thanks to his handsome face and the sexy stubble on his jaw. The kind of guy who expected women to melt into a puddle the moment he flashed his sizzling smile, the same one he was giving me now. Italmostworked on me.
Almost.
I pointed a finger down at his face. “Listen. I didn’t fly around the world just to get laughed at by a cut-rate tour guide.”
“Tour guide?”
“Yes, tour guide! I just called the office. I came here to get away from my problems, and all I wanted was to tour the city before my friends arrived, and you’re sitting around like it’s my fault…”
I trailed off as someone tapped me on the shoulder. He was a portly middle-aged man, with a light-blue shirt and jeans. He had a black beard that ran halfway down his chest.
“Buongiorno!” he said in an Italian accent. “You must be Miss Carter, yes? I am sorry for the lateness, but I have had to give an explanation to every member of the tour. We will not be touring the city today, I am afraid. The Colosseo is closed, as well as many of the other public sites. The mayor is preparing to issue a curfew order. Of course you will receive a full refund for the tour, do not worry.”
I glanced back at the guy sitting in the chair. He was smiling smugly at me. And he managed to look sexy doing it, which made it worse. My stomach turned to liquid as I realized my mistake.
