Page 49 of Only One Tour Bus

“You asked me a question!” I yell around the thing in my mouth. “See, still yellow.” I hold it up for him to see and then throw it down on the bedside table. “That means you have Paris all to yourself. Don’t forget to tell them about the baguette recipe laws, or how the Bloody Mary was invented here for Hemingway, and how there’s one dog for every seven people. And the catacombs! So many human remains. And that Notre Dame is the most visited landmark in France. And the French Army still has carrier pigeons!” I pause. “You know what, I should just come. I’ll stand away from everyone.”

I start to get up but stumble the second I try to stand. Callum moves fast to catch me, his arm around my waist, gentle but immovable. “I’ll tell them about the pigeons, I promise. But you need to stay here.”

“But I miss my tour babies.” I sniff, more because my nose is actually congested than any flair for dramatics. Even though I am known for my flair for the dramatics.

“And they miss you. Everyone was asking about you.”

At least they thought about me. “Since I can’t make today, you have to take some of the kiddos out to a romantic dinner tonight, too.”

“What? The group dinner isn’t until tomorrow.”

“I know. Remember, you helped me book it. For Henry and Doris, because he asked for something special for their anniversary. And offer it to Roshni and Camila. Because they need a romantic night, too. They’re both booked at Le Train Bleu, that restaurant with paintings of different French regions and Rococo gold molding in the Lyon train station.”

“You want them to go to a romantic, marriage-celebrating and -saving dinner in a train station?”

“Train stations used to be very fancy places for wealthy tourists who wanted to travel in luxury. Just take them. And you have to go and make sure everything runs smoothly. I’ll pay for your meal.”

“I’m not going out with two married couples. I will tell them about the reservation.”

“But you have to spy for me!” I ruin the order by blowing my nose. “You won’t sit at their tables. Just be around to nudge things if needed.”

“I’m not nudging anything. If their marriages are going to fail, that’s outside the scope of my duties.”

“Again with this narrow interpretation of your job! What if they break up on tour? It would affect tour morale!”

“Doris and Henry are grand, no matter how this dinner goes. And Roshni and Camila, although not happy with each other, don’t seem the type to make a scene. They’ll break up in the privacy of their own homes when they get back, like civilized folk. Making it not my problem!”

“Ugh, you are so frustrating!” The effect of my anger is hampered by my congestion, making me sound about as threatening as a baby penguin. Which makes me tear up the slightest bit in frustration. But that is most likely more because of the germs running rampant through my body.

Callum sighs. “I’ll go to the dinner.” He relents probably more because of how pathetic I look and sound over how swayed he is by my solid arguments and/or overall tough demeanor.

“Thank you.” I pull the covers up higher over my chest, because I definitely haven’t even thought about a bra in the last twenty-four hours and I don’t need him to know where my boobs really are.

“Can you please eat your food now?” He motions to the space he cleared on my table and the spread he laid out for me. Which I had forgotten about.

I cannot overemphasize how much cold medication I’m on right now. I was hoping I could overwhelm the germs with meds and then I would be able to tour today, but that isn’t working out. The germs are fighting back.

“Yes. And bless you for this feast.” I sneeze and lunge for a tissue before Callum can see how gross I am.

“No, bless you.”

“Wow, it’s a joke a minute right now. Where has this guy been?”

“If this is the response I get for trying to heal the sick with humor, I will cease. Immediately.”

I hold up my hands. “No. More please. I can feel myself getting better with every joke.”

Callum motions again to the table and I start eating. I don’t tell him that I already had some yogurt when I woke up because it was so sweet of him to think of me. Plus, I’m going to need a fever much higher than this one before I turn down fresh French bread.

“Rest up. I’ll call you after the tour to check in, but if you’re asleep don’t worry about answering.”

“Tell our tour babies some of those jokes. Tour babies love jokes.” My eyes are already half closed because of those meds, but they’re fighting me to stay open to look at Callum and that breakfast.

“They aren’t our babies.” Callum turns around and I get a great, edifying view of that butt. “And if they were my babies, they wouldn’t ask stupid questions or take too many photos when I’m teaching. They’d have manners.”

I don’t know if I’m supposed to catch that last part, but I do. I laugh as he closes the door, not all that worried for my babies.

Callum’s bark is so much worse than his bite.