Chapter 28
CALLUM
Kevin approaches before I can respond to my new nickname. And I want to. Or at least I want to keep talking to Asha, about whatever she wants to talk about.
And Kevin is ruining that, so I glare at him despite it being my own invitation which led to this in the first place.
Asha sees the displeasure on my face, because she nudges me, a silent reminder to be nicer to the paying customers.
For her, I drop the scowl. But only so it’s a neutral expression. I’m not smiling at this man who is at best interrupting my already limited time with Asha and at worst, flirting with her.
“Hi,” Kevin says, standing in front of our table.
“Hi,” Asha says back with a smile, even though we’ve been with this eejit all day; there’s no need for the late-night greeting.
Kevin takes the smile as encouragement and sits down, which is exactly why I try to limit smiles, to the best of my ability. “This is such a cool job. How long have you been doing it?” he asks her, ignoring me completely.
“About five years,” she answers with a smile.
“How’d you get into it?” I cross my arms and lean back in my seat, tuning out the rest of Kevin’s inane questions, as he tries harder and harder to capture her attention with his increasingly desperate questions.
I should stop him. But then Asha will get mad at me for yelling at her tour babies again.
If I was going to give him some advice, I’d tell him to stop embarrassing himself. The absolute puppy-dog eyes every time he looks at Asha, like she invented water and whiskey and football, are a bit much.
So what if her smile can make a shite day better, and make all the annoying passengers fade into the background while we explore the world together? So what if that smile makes me forget anything but strategizing on how to see it again?
There’s no excuse for Kevin making a fool of himself. Like that would endear him to her; she would never fall for those pathetic attempts. She is a discerning woman who can see through his flash and lack of substance.
She’s only being nice to him because it’s her job, and he’s too thick to understand that. Embarrassing. I glare at him, hoping he gets the message.
But after two solid minutes of glare, I have to concede it’s not effective when he refuses to look away from Asha.
Then Thomas comes to see where his mate got off to. Thomas, unlike Kevin, does not find sobriety an important part of the seduction process, and he’s tried to drink all the wine in Paris in his attempt to soak up some French suaveness.
It hasn’t worked.
“Whass happ’nin’ ’ere?” He drunkenly collapses next to Kevin.
This is why I will stick to my families, established professionals, and retirees. Although I guess I won’t be if one of us is let go. I’ll either be taking on more tours like this or be out of a job completely.
Hmm. Both of those are less than ideal.
“We’re enjoying Paris!” Asha indicates the beautiful surroundings, but I’m not looking at the Art Nouveau decor.
Because I was trying to enjoy my time with a coworker when our job rudely interfered.
“That’s not all Kev wants to enjoy.” Thomas leers.
“Shut up!” Kevin drunkenly punches his friend in the arm, almost knocking over the table in front of us. A pair of gobshites.
I slam my hands on the teetering table, more to steady it so it doesn’t make a giant mess that gets us banned from this establishment than to scold the drunks, but their eyes snap to me in surprise, anyway. Well, if it works. “What do you think you’re playing at? This isn’t your house.”
The boys look at each other, and then at Asha. She’s less than excited at the confrontation, and she’s slipped back into her people pleasing ways, a forced smile on her face to diffuse the tension at the table. “Everyone’s just having fun—”
“Yeah, listen to her. We’re just having fun.” Thomas looks at me with victory in his eyes, like she was the judge of some sort of televised cooking contest and she declared his mousse was the best.
Only she’s clearly looking less than amused at his behavior and he’s not picking up on any of it. “But we are in a public place, and we can have fun and not be disruptive to others or a threat to furniture.”
It’s a mild rebuke, but it’s the most stern I’ve seen her toward her precious ducklings. I sit back and cross my arms. She’s got it, apparently. Must be a little of me rubbing off on her, even if it is the absolute minimum of what I would have said to them. And she’s nicer about it, too.
Her words have an effect on the boys, who don’t like being chastised by the fun parent at all. They mumble apologies and slink back into toward the bar to ply their charm on other women. Poor Parisian woman. Poor woman on this tour.
“You need a keeper,” I say. It shouldn’t be this hard to be firm with the guests. It’s one of my favorite parts after the history, actually.
“Are you applying for the job? I can’t pay very much.”
I recoil at the thought of following the overly cheerful woman around while she interacts with eejits.
The amount of work that would involve would be staggering, to make sure they don’t hurt or annoy the naively optimistic woman.
Not to mention that spending all that time with her is not good for my peace of mind.
“No. I already have a job. For now, at the very least.”
Asha slumps. “I hate this part of the job. I’m not their mom; I don’t want to scold them.”
“But it is your job to look out for them. That’s what you told me, right? That means making sure they don’t get a bill for an expensive, antique French table. Or that they don’t wake up in a jail cell.”
“I guess. But I still don’t like to ruin anyone’s fun. I want them to live their best life, just a smidge less rambunctiously.”
I snort. “They’re fine. They’ve already moved on.
A wee bit less rambunctiously, as well.” I indicate the bar area, where Kevin and Thomas are chatting up a pair of women who look more charmed at their banter.
They must be French and unable to understand the slurring pair; there’s no other explanation.
Asha laughs, and I’m glad she’s back to being happy. “I think I should be offended at how easy I am to get over.”
“Did you want something with either of them?” I’m incredulous now.
“No.” The answer is immediate and comforting. I don’t think I can watch her flirt with Kevin and see him coming out of her room in the wee hours of the morning, for the rest of the trip.
Because of how unprofessional it would be, of course. Nothing else. Not because I want her.
“But still. I would appreciate a few more minutes of pouting before they’re on to new potential partners. Maybe just one full minute would be nice.”
“And a few longing glances? A diary entry about you? A sad poem they turn into an emo song?”
“I don’t think a sad look is asking too much!”
“Fair play. But I do think you need to start with a better class of man.”
She nods. “Hmm. I will consider that for the next tour fling I engage in.”
“Yeah—wait, what?”
She laughs at me again, a favorite activity for her, and grabs my hand. “Are you ready to call it a night? I think the children can entertain themselves for the rest of the night. Probably even better without Mom and Dad around.”
I wince in disgust. “For the last time, these are not my children. But yes, it’s getting late and I still have to prepare for tomorrow.
” I allow her to pull me up, and then to the bar so we can say our goodbyes.
Everyone sounds proper pissed, so I don’t know why we need to say bye. Not like they would notice.
She keeps hold of my hand out the door, then through the streets of Paris for the few blocks back to the hotel. She doesn’t let it go in the elevator, or when we get to our floor. Then we’re stopped in front of her door.
“Well, this is me.”
“I know.”
She nods and we stand there, in front of her door. I make no move to retrieve my hand, and she makes none to let me go. But it’s beginning to border on awkward at this point.
“It’s an early morning tomorrow,” I say.
“Yeah. And it’ll be a lot of travel, too.”
She leans forward just as I say, “We should get to bed, then.”
She jerks back like she’s attached to a string and someone yanked it hard.
That finally breaks the connection of our hands, and I get a lot colder on my own what with the sunshine taken away from me.
My hand reaches out a few centimeters toward hers, but then I snap it back when I realize what it’s doing.
Did she want me to kiss her again? We’ve done this before, but now we’re in competition. Or at least, now we know that we’re in competition. That wouldn’t be prudent, in the long run.
Too many hurt feelings. And then I’d be the one responsible for making the sunshine dim.
I can’t do that. Even if the shine is a little less bright right now because I pulled away, it’ll only be worse later, when I either take the job she loves, or she kicks me out of a job I need for rent and food and other frivolities, and that I somewhat enjoy.
Then it’ll be awkwardness filling those pretty brown eyes.
Best to walk myself to my room right now. Alone.
“Good night. Sleep well.”
Asha looks bewildered as she wishes me the same.
Yeah, I’m a wee bit bewildered myself as I watch her disappear into her room, and then go to my own.
I’m half sure I’ve made a mistake, but there’s nothing to do about it now, except carry on with this damn tour.