Page 30 of Only One Tour Bus

“It would be such a help.”

I do hate doing my own laundry. So I get why they wouldn’t want to deal with it on vacation. “Sure. I’ll stop by your room to get it and take it down. They’ll probably charge the room and you can pay when you check out.”

“Great! You’re the best.”

Anything for the best vacation ever.

I drag my suitcase to my room and send out positive thoughts to the universe that the drunkest guests stay in their rooms so I can prove what a good tour guide I am to Callum. I’m not distracted by the absolutely spectacular view I have of the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge, Stacey from the front desk having given me a stunning view, because she is the best, and understands how hard this job is.

I don’t know when Callum’s opinion started to matter to me. Maybe because it’s irritating when someone doubts my ability. But it doesn’t usually have this much of an effect on me. Rob never believes in me, and I don’t care about that tool.

And Callum is so grumpy, it shouldn’t matter what he thinks either. Because who can trust someone who doesn’t enjoy life, not even occasionally?

But he’s so damn smart. All those facts he holds behind that frown. He’s a walking encyclopedia of all the dates and names and places I usually get mixed up when I’m giving a tour without my notecards handy, preferring to spend my precious brain space on the broad details of interesting stories instead.

It’s been kind of nice to let him tell the boring stuff and interrupt with the good parts intermittently. And to interrupt to make sure people have ice cream/water breaks and photo opportunities.

It’s not that I dislike any part of history, it’s just that some of it is less compelling to me than other parts. And I want to focus on the good bits, and not the bits that I personally find boring.

After giving myself a pep talk in the mirror, I stop by Jennifer’s room to get her laundry, and take it to the lobby, dropping it off at the front desk, which thankfully does have a laundry service. So far, it’s only Callum and the lawyer ladies, so I exhale half of the breath I was holding, in relief. But not everything yet, since the drunks—and I say that with the most affection—still have ten more minutes before we leave.

“What is that? Did you only bring enough clothes for two days?” Callum asks, eyebrow lifted judgmentally as I join the group.

“It’s Jennifer’s. She didn’t want to deal with it.”

His mouth opens in disbelief and I know he’s going to say it’s not our job, so I turn to talk to the group to avoid hearing it.

When the clock hits eight p.m., I smile and start herding the small group to the hotel doors.

“See. Told you it would work.” In case Callum didn’t see my prediction-based-on-experience come to fruition.

“Hmm.” Callum doesn’t look happy that I was right, even though more than half our tour is safely in their rooms, where they can only do minimal damage. I hope. Like I hope the universe doesn’t take that as a challenge.

“Are you coming with us?” I thought he would be here to watch me fail and then crawl into his comfortable bed while I direct drunk people around London.

He shrugs. “I have to eat.”

Ah. Just what every woman wants to hear. I am only coming with you because I need food as sustenance or I will cease to function.

Kevin and Thomas come out of the elevators just as I take one look back, like an amateur. I should have learned the lessons of Orpheus better, which I’m sure is that nothing good comes from looking back.

“I’m glad we didn’t miss you,” Kevin says. They’re both breathless because they ran from the elevator to meet the group, and I force a smile on my face.

“I’m so glad you won’t miss out on this pub!” I hold the door for them, and then Callum, who walks through with raised eyebrows.

“Okay. But this is still a much smaller group. So still a success, most would say,” I whisper to him.

“I’ve not said anything.”

“Your eyebrows did; they’re very expressive.” And judgmental.

“Hmm. Did they say that although you didn’t get many people, you did get the drunkest of tourists?”

I ignore him while I jog to the front of the group because he’s not wrong. We don’t have a long walk from the hotel, which is the real reason this pub gets my “best of” award. Especially since so many London pubs are owned by the same few corporate overlords anyway, so convenience carries a lot of weight for me when choosing, especially after a long day of traveling.

I get everyone settled, unable to stop mothering them, even though they’re adults and the mothering I’m doing is helping them get drinks. And hopefully some carbs in them at the same time, which is why I immediately order fries for the table.

If I order fries, they will be eaten. It’s one of the first things I learned as a baby tour guide.