CHAPTER 2
Nick
“You want some yogurt with honey and walnuts, don’t you?” I say as I look down at Sophia.
She nods her head three times. She grabs onto my little finger and pulls on it before using it for balance as she spins around in a circle.
We had a great time in Paris visiting her grandparents but I’m glad to be home. Paris is beautiful but my heart is Greek. And apparently Sophia’s taste buds are too.
I stand at the baggage claiming keeping an eye out for my wheeled luggage and her Hello Kitty wheeled luggage for kids. We must be a sight when we walk together rolling our luggage through the airport.
She’s such a great kid. She never acts out and is always so well behaved. There’s really nothing more that I could wish for…except for her to have a mother, and me a wife.
But the world doesn’t work like that. We’re right in-between Christmases, the one most of the world celebrates on the twenty-fifth of December, and the one those of us that follow the Orthodox religion in which case we celebrate Christmas two weeks later than most of the world. Christmas is a time for giving, but the gift that I’ll have to wait another year for is a woman for the both of us. It’s not like I can just order one anyways. It takes time and chemistry to build that connection. I learned the hard way already. I rushed into things with Sophia’s mother. It was hot and heavy and then it flamed out like all fires do.
Her mother is off acting in Hollywood now, ‘too busy to be burdened with a family.’ I can’t believe I ever got involved with such a person and am glad she’s no longer in my life or my daughter’s. Goodbye and good riddance.
I watch as the bags come out onto the carousel. Still nothing for the Samaras family. Samaras literally means saddle maker, and I’m ready to saddle up and get on home.
I see a pink bag on the other side of the carousel that looks like it could be Sophia’s. I focus on it more closely, following it’s path, and quickly realize it’s not Hello Kitty. It’s My Little Pony. I laugh at myself that I even know such things.
But my laughing stops immediately when my eyes rise up from the bag and see the young woman standing just behind it. The carousel keeps spinning, but my eyes don’t. My stomach is another matter.
I feel a tightness in my gut and my temperature rise.
Who is that?
She’s got on a winter jacket and she’s looking at a map. It looks like the kind they sell in duty free, but I can clearly see from here that it’s in Greek. She’s certainly not Greek. How do I know? She’s got the map upside down.
There’s something different about her. An innocence or a cute naivety that makes her very down to earth, and very attractive.
Is this her first time traveling? Is she completely lost? Who is she?
I’ve got so many questions and only she has the answers.
“Dad. There’s our stuff,” Sophia says pointing furiously towards the carousel.
It’s just come out and has to make almost a complete loop around to get to us. I calculate the conveyor speed and look back at that girl who’s caught my attention…and then some.
“Let’s go grab it,” I say to Sophia.
I take off around the carousel towards the girl. Sophia’s still hooked to my right hand like it’s some sort of metal bar at the jungle gym.
I time my steps so I arrive in front of the girl at the same time as our luggage.
I lean forward and grab Sophia’s luggage and quickly sit it beside me. I lean forward again and grab the handle to my luggage, but suddenly I feel a small hand on top of mine.
The touch of the woman sends a warm pulse straight up my arm and I feel myself getting aroused immediately. What the heck? That never happens.
I grab the handle tighter and the smaller hand tightens on top of mine. I rotate my body to remove the luggage and to see who’s trying to play patty cake with me. I know it’s not Sophia.
“That’s my bag!” she says. It’s the girl I was checking out. Is she flirting with me?
“I’m afraid this one is mine,” I say.
“Black Samsonite with a dent on the side. It’s definitely mine.”
“I also have a black Samsonite with a dent on the side,” I say. I notice the girl still hasn’t removed her hand from on top of mine and my arousal is only getting stronger…and more visible.
“Is everything okay over here?” one of the airport agents asks.
“This is my luggage and he’s trying to take it.” the girl says.
“It’s my luggage,” I say. “It even came out right next to my daughters.”
“Have either of you tried opening it?” the agent says.
I’m not about to argue with a woman, either woman for that matter. “Please, be my guest,” I say.
“Maybe it’s better if you try first sir. It was next to your items,” the agent says. I’m happy to let the girl try first. Ladies first after all, but the agent has other ideas. She suddenly thinks this is an episode of Cops and I’m just waiting for her to whip out a Taser.
“Certainly,” I say.
I flip the bag over and enter my code. 7-7-7. I feel the lock unlatch and I look up at the girl. I’m still not sure how to react because I’m still very interested in this feisty young lady. Maybe this is some new way of flirting that the kids are doing these days and I’m just not aware of it.
“Just a bunch of souvenirs,” I say as I fold back the top half of the luggage only to see a pair of sexy red lingerie, a bottle of perfume and some candles.
My jaw hits the floor and the girl’s face instantly turns as red as the panties which are now draped across my forearm.