Page 85 of Only One Tour Bus

I’m not. “Suppose so.” I grab her suitcase and then my own. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

“I can carry my own suitcase,” she mumbles, but more to let the lobby and me know than to get her suitcase back, because she doesn’t even stretch an arm out to get it before turning and walking up the stairs.

I follow her up and stop in front of her door.

“Here I am,” she says, needlessly.

“I’m a floor above.”

“Right. Probably should let you go.” But she doesn’t make a move to the door or for her suitcase.

“Probably should go.”

“Ooor, you could stay. Here. Tonight. In my room.”

“Or I could stay.”

Asha opens the door and walks through, leaving it open for me to make the final decision. As if there were a choice. As if I could walk away from that invitation.

I’m physically incapable.

So I walk in, closing the door behind me.

CHAPTER 37

ASHA

Venice is the first very hot place we’re at, and with the humidity, the group is not handling it well.

“Can we go inside somewhere yet?” Thomas asks, to the cheers of his fellow tourists.

I stop my speech on the Doge’s Palace. “I know, guys. It’s really uncomfortable. But Venice is the kind of city that makes the discomfort worthwhile. There are some cold water bottles being sold over there. Why don’t we make a quick stop to hydrate and then we can get back to St. Mark’s Square and back to history?”

“Even though you told them to bring plenty of water before we left this morning. And last night when we got off the bus,” Callum whispers in my ear.

“You know the hotter it is, the more difficult the tour is going to be.” Poor Italy. Beautiful, historic, delicious wine, and the best food on the trip, but it gets saddled with being on the end of the trip and too hot (in the summer) for the people to really appreciate it as much as it should be appreciated.

“They should be happy that they’re in one of the best cities in the world and enjoy it accordingly.”

I gasp, and Callum looks around to see what caused it. Probably thinking someone fell into the canal or got pooped on by one of the many pigeons that call the Square their home. Both disasters that the tourists will make our problem.

“What happened?”

“You called Venice the…BEST CITY EVER!”

“One of the best cities in the world. And this is what happens when I spend too much time with you.” He scowls, a Callum scowl that means he’s embarrassed at getting caught enjoying things.

“Ha! You would be so lucky.”

He just looks at me, his eyes as hot as this day is. Phew, I know how my group is feeling. Like they need to shed some clothes and jump into a nice, cold pool of water.

But that is a luxury for people actually on vacation. I have to continue with this tour. So I ineffectively flap my hands at myself, only succeeding in blowing hot air at my face.

The tourists trudge back to me, all holding giant, cold water bottles they definitely overpaid for. And that are already half-empty. But everyone seems a little more lively, so I smile in gratitude even though we’re going to be making a lot of stops (of the water and the bathroom variety) on this tour.

And we even started early in the morning to avoid some of the more oppressive heat of a Venetian summer day, using the boats to get to Venice from our hotel just outside the city.

“These replicas of copper horses traveled a long way to be here. They were made in either Ancient Greece or Rome, then taken to Constantinople, where Venice captured them during the Fourth Crusade. The originals are inside St. Mark’s Basilica, which is done primarily in a Middle Byzantine and Romanesque style. I highly recommend coming back here in your free time and seeing the inside of the Basilica and the Palace.”