The Bad Boy's Good Girl by Kylie Knight (22)

Greek Bad Boy

The sun was just coming up as the last of the party-goers trailed off to their cabins on the Kallisto. Simon Katsaros, the Kallisto’s owner sprawled in his deck chair and watched the rising sun glint off the graceful Doric columns of the temple of Poseidon. The deep blue of the Aegean waters made him feel calmer, less likely to fly into bits after his confrontation with Marissa, his girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend, he amended. He’d sent her off to the mainland with bandbox, birdcage, and parrot as his mother liked to say. Marissa had stood up in the launch, screaming at him in Italian the whole way. She nearly fell overboard at one point but that only made her scream more loudly.

“Philip, will you bring me another bottle of wine? I want to toast the sunrise.”

“Red or white, sir?” the steward asked.

“It doesn’t matter. And bring an extra for Poseidon.”

The steward nodded and went off in search of the wine and Simon slumped back into his chair and stared out at the water. Thank God it was quiet now on the Kallisto. The band had returned to the mainland around four that morning but the partying had gone on until Marissa’s hissy fit had brought it to a crashing halt by throwing a bowl of caviar all over the redhead — what was her name? Gretchen? — Simon had been kissing in the lifeboat. It wasn’t as if it meant anything, and he’d tried to explain that to Marissa. That’s when Gretchen got pissed off and locked herself in her cabin. What the hell was wrong with women anyway?

Philip returned with two bottles of wine. Simon carried them up to the helicopter pad where he waited for the chopper to return from dropping the band in Athens. He had a yen to see the temple again, though he’d been there many times. He loved and the temple there, and visited it on a regular basis. It was where he’d first kissed Marissa after an impromptu drive down the coast from Athens. He’d kissed her as the sun set, he remembered. Or was that some other girl? He’d taken a lot of them there and then to the hotel nearby. Women loved getting kissed at a temple. It made what followed seem like a religious experience. What Simon remembered most, though, were the brilliant streaks of color in the perfect blue sky.

The helicopter returned a little before seven and Simon got aboard and told the pilot he wanted to go to the temple.

“It won’t be open yet,” George said.

“It will for me.”

George grinned whitely. “You’re the boss.”

That he was, and he paid his people to indulge his whims, of which he had many.

It was a short hop, and the noise from the chopper wakened the caretaker who unlocked the gates for Simon for a generous tip.

Simon walked up to the temple and sat down on one of the fallen stones in what would have been the naos, or hall of worship. “Father Poseidon,” he said, “Marissa and I have broken up. I first kissed her here in your sacred place, so I thought you deserved to be the first to know. I brought you a bottle of wine.” He uncorked the bottle and poured it onto the ground. “It’s French. I hope you like it. Thank you for the calm sea.” It wasn’t as if he believed in the old gods, but he did enjoy little rituals.

He sat for a while, just enjoying the early morning breezes and the warmth of the sun. Tourists would be showing up soon, and he wanted to be away by then, but he couldn’t resist lazing there a bit and thinking about what it must have looked like before it had been destroyed, a handsome, open building with an enormous gold-leafed statue of Poseidon at the head of the naos.

When he got up, he went over to the spot where the poet, Lord Byron, had incised his name into the stone. He ran his fingers over it and murmured the words of the poet, Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing, save the waves and I, May hear our mutual murmurs sweep... Byron who swam out to sea to watch the funeral pyre of his friend, Shelley, who had drowned.

“Excuse me?” Simon turned to find two young women standing outside the fence. “What time does the temple open?”

He pretended to check his watch. “For you, right now,” he told them, then opened the gate to let them in. The girls thanked him, and he thought about inviting them out to his yacht, but he’d just gotten rid of one woman, what did he want with more?

On the way out, he told the caretaker about the girls, and gave the old man his other bottle of wine. Then he flew off like some modern-day godling, which, if money counted for anything, he probably was. Simon Katsaros probably had more money than any god, if you counted his family’s fortune. He had an allowance, and a little side business to bring in more; not something he would ever have told his mother and father about since it was probably not entirely legal, but nobody had to know.

By the time he got back to the Kallisto, he was tired and ready for sleep. He told the Captain to head for Pireas where most of his guests would have cars waiting for them. They’d spend the night in port where Simon would talk to his business partner, Kosta Papachristos, about whom there was nothing Christlike, and the next morning, head for Halithos, a little island in the Gulf of Corinth, owned by the Katsaros family. He was tired. He wanted to go home.

Gretchen, or whatever her name was, was waiting for him in his bed. He thought about throwing her out of his cabin, but she looked like an angel with her snow-blonde hair spread out across his pillows. How could Simon resist?

“Hello, beautiful,” he said as he began to undress.

Later that afternoon, Simon said farewell to the last of his guests at the Pireas harbor, and walked over to a little espresso bar nearby. He read the newspaper and drank coffee until Kosta showed up.

Kosta always looked, as Simon’s rather colorful mother would have said, like he tried to and couldn’t. There was always something a bit off. Too flashy and yet too tailored, too much the fake-looking tough guy in over-priced clothing. He was reasonably nice looking, and attracted women right and left. If he dressed better, Simon might have occasionally included him in one of his cruises, but as it was, he wouldn’t have fit in at all. That was just as well. He didn’t want to mix business with pleasure.

“Why on earth did you want to meet here?” Kosta asked as he sat down.

“I like their coffee. You said you had something to discuss.”

Kosta waved the waitress over and ordered an espresso and “something sweet, I don’t care what; two of them.” Then he pulled out his phone. “I have a line on some merchandise from Egypt,” he told Simon. “Some art glass, pottery, that sort of thing.” He flashed a photo at Simon of a crate with a half-wrapped blue bowl sitting on top of it.

“Are you asking for my permission to move on the deal?” Simon asked.

“It’s your money.”

Simon understood what that meant. The shipments were likely to be carrying something more than art glass and pottery, something more expensive, but with the potential to earn a great deal of money. “I don’t know, Kosta. I’m not sure we want to get into that.”

“This is a sure thing, man.” The waitress brought his espresso and a plate filled with loukoumades swimming in syrup. “That looks great,” Kosta said and swatted the waitress on her ass. “Thanks.”

She was not pleased, but said nothing. Probably worried about keeping her job.

“You shouldn’t do that to strange women, Kosta.”

“Why not? They love being told they’re desirable.”

“I don’t think that’s what you’re saying, but remember, she’s quite capable of spitting in your coffee next time you come in here.”

Kosta’s eyebrows shot up. “You think she’d do that over a simple little pat?”

“I think if you did that to my sister I’d do worse than that to you.”

“Okay, okay, calm down.”

“I am calm. Let’s talk.” Simon hadn’t been averse to importing objects d’art from Russia, pre-revolutionary things that netted a lot of money on the black market. But antiquities? That was something else. He had a healthy respect for the ancient. “What exactly are you going to ship?”

Kosta assured him it was minor league stuff. “Nothing like out of Tut’s tomb!” he insisted as he licked the syrup from his fingers. “These are terrific. You sure you don’t want some?”

“I’m good. Let me think about this, all right?”

“Don’t think too long or someone else will snatch it up. The Russians are looking at it even as we speak. Hey honey!” he yelled at the waitress and lifted his cup in the air. “Let’s have another round here.”

No, Simon would never have invited Kosta onto the Kallisto, no matter how well he dressed.

They drank a bit more coffee, Kosta asked the waitress if she had any galaktoboureko. “It’s this damn sweet tooth of mine,” he told her. “I guess that’s why you look so good to me.”

“Kosta!”

“What? I’m just complimenting a beautiful woman. You get that, don’t you honey?”

“We don’t carry galaktoboureko,” she said. “Would you like some more loukoumades?” She was clearly not amused by Kosta.

“No that’s all right. But if you wanted to slip me your phone number…”

She turned and walked away, her back rigid.

“I think I’m in there.”

“So there’s nothing really important in the shipment?”

“No, no, it’s all the sort of junk that collectors love, but it has no real historical value. A lot of ninth dynasty stuff. Pottery and a couple of statues.”

Simon wondered if Kosta had any clue what the ninth dynasty was, or if he was just throwing stuff out to try to muddy the waters a bit.

“Yeah, all right,” Simon told him. “Go on ahead. But let’s not make this a regular thing, all right?”

“If you don’t play, you can’t win, man,” Kosta told him.

He supposed that was true, but the idea made him uneasy. Much of what Kosta moved was simple contraband. There was a market for these things, and government interference kept people from having what they wanted. It was like bringing Cuban cigars into the United States had been, harmless, really, and giving people what they wanted.

“I saw the Kallisto in the harbor,” Kosta observed. “You sail all the way from Halithos?”

“I was entertaining a few friends.” He didn’t feel like saying too much.

“You ever going to invite me onto your boat?” Simon sipped his coffee and didn’t answer. It made Kosta laugh. “Yeah, I’m the guy you don’t want your friends or family to know about, aren’t I? The one who knows your secrets.”

“Let’s leave it as business, Kosta. It’s not good to mix the two.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ll transfer the money to you tomorrow. Is that soon enough?”

“Perfect. I’ll be going down there myself to inspect the goods. I hear Egyptian girls are beautiful,” he added with what amounted to a verbal leer that made Simon want to shower. If the “import-export business” he ran wasn’t important to him on a number of levels — it not only brought in extra money, but the fact of it had made his parents proud – he’d have dropped Kosta in a heartbeat. Of course his parents had no idea that he sidelined in contraband; they thought it was on the up-and-up. They’d encouraged him, and now he was in too deep and didn’t know how to get out.

“Let me know when the cargo is sold,” he said. He folded the paper and set it on the table.

“Have a nice trip home,” Kosta said as Simon strode out of the cafe.

* * *

Kosta sat for a while, staring out at the crowds traveling up and down the street in front of the cafe. He didn’t have a lot of use for most people. If women were attractive, that was fine, if men did what he needed them to do, that was also fine. He didn’t much like children of any age. He liked animals. His mother had often said how odd it was that Kosta was so horrible to other people but so nice to animals that he wouldn’t even eat meat. He told her that animals were easy, they weren’t complicated and sly the way people were, but she didn’t understand. He supposed that as long as he continued to send money to her she didn’t have to understand.

He liked being around animals, he didn’t have to pretend around them. The cafe cat sensed that and settled itself in the chair Simon had vacated. They regarded each other cautiously, Kosta and the cat, then the cat closed his eyes, and Kosta smiled. A nap would be nice, he decided. Somewhere in the shade.

Simon had already paid the bill, but Kosta wasn’t ready to leave. It wasn’t the waitress, he’d lost interest in her even before Simon left. He liked the smell of the place, the aroma of coffee and under it, spices and honey, and the flowers on the tables. It was a nice cafe. He’d have to come back.

“Can I get you anything else?”

He looked up and smiled at the waitress. “How about a small coffee with honey?”

She stood there for a moment as if she was expecting a punchline or an insult, but he was finished with her. “And a bit of milk and honey for the cat?”

“He doesn’t drink milk. He does like a bit of apple.”

“Then a piece of the apple tart I saw earlier. He and I can share it.”

He could tell that she was confused by this turn of events, and that was fine with him. He preferred that people not know who he was. It was simpler to get on in the world that way. Simon took him for a thug because that’s what Kosta wanted him to think. It made it easier to lie to Simon. What Kosta was bringing in from Egypt was not ninth dynasty trash, but some very fine pre-Islamic artifacts obtained from the Taliban, who were not averse to taking money for the things they were supposed to be destroying. They were as corrupt as their secular counterparts; you just had to make sure that you didn’t point that out to them.

Kosta kept a close watch on the political and social developments in the Middle East. There were opportunities to be had out there if you were in the right place at the right time, with the right amount of money. And Simon was good for providing the right amount of money. As long as he got what he felt was a fair return on his money, Simon didn’t ask a lot of questions, and that’s why Kosta liked working with him. Simon was a smart guy, but he didn’t give a lot of thought to the things Kosta thought of as important. And that was fine with Kosta.

One of the things Kosta was thinking about, quite seriously, was his relationship with Simon. It seemed to him that it was tenuous at best, and he had been wondering if it wasn’t time to change that, to improve it with a little legal cement. With Simon, there was no way in, but with Simon’s sister, Athena, who was in school in London, it was another thing entirely. He’d already done his homework and knew that Athena might be easy to woo. She was nineteen and on her own for the first time in her life, having transferred to the London School of Economics from the Athens University of Economics and Business.

He was keeping his eye on Athena. She wasn’t a sure thing, but she might well respond to a little charm.

The waitress brought his coffee and the slice of apple tart. He cut a bit off and put it on a napkin for the cat. “What’s his name?” he asked her.

“Nikos.”

“Here, Nikos, some apple for you.” He set it on the chair and laughed as the cat turned his head away. “Isn’t that like a cat?”

The honeyed coffee made him happy. It reminded him of home. While he sipped it, Nikos jumped onto the table and began to lick Kosta’s share of the tart, making him laugh again. “You perverse little man,” he said, and scratched the cat behind the ears. Nikos closed his eyes again, but kept on licking. Kosta ate the bit of tart on the napkin instead.

To cultivate Athena he’d have to change his look; she wouldn’t be wooed by some knuckle-dragging criminal. No, he’d have to be the worldly man of her dreams; well-dressed, well-educated (He probably had a better education than Simon did, having degrees in art and antiquities that ensured he knew exactly what he was buying. He never let on, though. When people took him for an ignorant thug, they gave him the advantage.) well-to-do, and attentive.

When the waitress brought his check, he gave her a large tip and said, “Sorry about before.” He didn’t explain, just apologized. “It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” she said, though he wasn’t clear about whether she was thanking him for the tip or the assurance.

He gave Nikos one last pat and strolled out into the sunlight. It was nearly time to catch his ferry to Alexandria. From there he’d travel to Cairo where he’d meet his contact and make the final arrangements.

Kosta whistled a tune as he strolled down to the docks.

* * *

Simon arrived home to find the house in an uproar. “What’s going on?” he asked his father who was looking more harried than usual.

“Your mother remembered that the wedding was only a week away and she has literally nothing to wear. And I quote her.”

“She has a closet the size of Naxos.”

“Well apparently all the clothing in it has disappeared. She has, and again I quote, literally nothing to wear.”

“Just stop it now. You know what I meant. I have literally nothing I can wear to a wedding.”

“So she’s flying to Paris. I ask you,” Simon’s father said with a roll of his eyes.

Simon patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you go along with her? In fact, I’ll come too, and we can have Athena meet us there. She is coming to the wedding, yes?” The wedding in question was that of a distant cousin, but was no less important than if it had been a closer relation. His family was like that.

“What on earth would I do there?”

“Get a new suit,” Simon’s mother asked sweetly. Helena Katsaros, still stunningly beautiful at fifty-two, provoked her husband to a lot of eye-rolling and sarcasm, but she always got her way.

“I suppose I could stand to get a new one.” Nick Katsaros had aged well too, but looked more his age with a thick head of steel gray hair, and a beard flecked with white that made him look like an elder statesman. He could have been if he’d been so inclined. His influence and power were enormous, but he’d avoided political office, believing that politics and business were better left separate. And his business, building airplane parts, among other things, was the thing dearest to his heart after his family.

“We can make a holiday out of it. Eat at that restaurant you like so much,” Simon told his father. That was always a draw for Nick.

“All right, arrange the flight, Simon. We’ll leave in the morning.”

Though Simon had only just returned home, he didn’t mind the thought of flying out the next day. He liked to travel, and he loved Paris. He’d had some fine times there, though that wasn’t something he’d have said to his parents. They knew he was a bit of a wild child, but not the details of his naughtiness. He didn’t think he could ever face his mother if she’d known, for example, what he’d gotten up to with Gretchen before he put her ashore at Piraeus with a kiss, and a pair of sapphire earrings that Marissa had forgotten in the nightstand when she left him.

He phoned Nina, his parents’ assistant, and gave her the itinerary. “Not before ten though,” he begged her. “I’d like to sleep in tonight.”

“No worries, Simon. I’ll take care of it. I’ll phone the house when I have the schedule.”

He went upstairs to his bedroom, undressed, and slipped between the sheets. He loved his bed. Being in it made him feel like a boy again, safe and at home with family. Much as he traveled, this was better than anything, the luxury of a bed to himself in a room so familiar to him that he could navigate it blindfolded. It held so many pieces of his past, and he was comforted by each one.

He yawned hugely and rolled onto his side, clutching the cool, crisp pillow, and looking out the window into the darkness of the gulf. There was a full moon that night, and though it was not visible from his bedroom window, it illuminated the landscape so that he could see the vague shapes of trees, and in the distance the outline of a mountain, limned with silver. When Athena came home, it would be perfect, he thought as he began to drift into sleep. The family together, that’s how he liked things to be. But of course, it was rare these days, and therefore so much more precious.

Everything fell away, and Simon dreamed of the sea, and of the temple of Poseidon overlooking the blue water.

The next morning, a phone call woke him. “You have an hour until we leave.” His father was always a little annoyed when Simon slept late.

“What’s the time?”

“Nine. Get yourself out of bed, Simon.”

“I’m up, I’m up. Is breakfast ready?”

“Your mother and I are in the dining room.” The connection closed and Simon groaned, and stuck one leg out from beneath the sheet. Surely that was close enough to being up?

“Can’t fall asleep, can’t fall asleep,” he chanted, and finally it worked. He managed to sit up, then stand, then propel himself into the shower where he finally woke up properly. Why had he thought this trip was a good idea?

He threw a few things into a bag and carried it downstairs to try to grab a cup of coffee at least before they left for the airstrip. Nina Calo was at the table with Helena and Nick, just finishing her breakfast. “Good morning, sunshine!” she said with oppressive brightness.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve been up for a while. Please tell me there’s coffee.”

“A bit.”

He poured a cup and sat down.

“You should eat something,” his mother said.

“My stomach isn’t awake.”

Nina got up, filled a plate and set it on the table in front of him. “Your mother is right. Eat. The plane will wait.”

He knew there was no point in arguing so he dug into the eggs and grilled sausages, and the freshly baked bread with cheese and honey. As he ate, his appetite returned, and he cleaned the plate and had a second cup of coffee. “Thank you,” he said. “You were right. I needed that.”

“I’m always right,” Helena said with an impish smile. “Now are we almost ready?”

On the way to the airstrip, Nina confirmed that Athena would be meeting them in Paris, that she and Helena had an appointment with a couturier, and both Nick and Simon had appointments with their tailors.

“What would we do without you, Nina?” Nick asked.

“Hire someone else,” she said.

And once they were on the ground in Paris, and Simon felt the lovely, flower-scented breezes swirling around him, he was glad he’d talked his father into this trip. He and Nick went off to the tailor as soon as they’d dropped their bags at the hotel, and after the fitting, they had a glass of wine at a nearby cafe and watched the world go by.

“I’m glad we’re here,” Nick said. “And I’ll be honest, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

Simon’s good mood evaporated, When Nick got serious like this, it was usually one of those what-are-you-doing-with-your-life talks.

“Simon… have you thought about the future?”

“Not in the last half hour, no.”

“Do you have any plans? What about marriage? A family? Your mother and I aren’t old, but we’d like to see our grandchildren before we die, you know?” He smoothed his mustache in a gesture so familiar that it made Simon smile.

“Just haven’t found the right mother for my children,” Simon joked.

“There are millions of wonderful women out there.”

With a sigh, Simon refilled his glass. “Dad, it’s— I’m—” What could he say about this that he hadn’t already said a dozen times? And then the truth came to him. “I see you and Mom together, and how right it seems to me, and I want that. But it hasn’t felt right with anyone.”

“It didn’t feel that way at first.”

“What do you mean?”

“You mother and I were introduced before the wedding as a courtesy. It was expected that we’d marry. I resisted, she flat-out refused.”

“What?”

“It’s true. It was arranged and we both balked.”

Simon was disconcerted by this wholly unexpected piece of news. “But you got married?”

Nick laughed. “Are you asking, or…”

“That shouldn’t have sounded so much like a question. You got married. How?”

“She and I met secretly to plan how to get out of the situation. One thing led to another… we decided it might not be such a bad idea after all. It was a bit rocky at first, though, at least until I learned that your mother was the boss.” He grinned and sipped his wine. “That’s a piece of advice I hope you’ll heed,” he told Simon. “If you find a good woman, one who is smart and kind, let her have her way on the small things, and work with her on the big ones. You can’t ever go wrong.”

“See? How do I find a woman like that?” Simon asked.

“Open your damn eyes. They’re everywhere. The world is full of them.”

“I haven’t found any.”

“I don’t think you treat them as if you think they’re good women.” Simon’s father was rarely that blunt-spoken about Simon’s shortcomings, so this assessment was particularly damning. He withdrew from the conversation by calling the waiter over and ordering some lunch. Nick didn’t press him on anything, but he did say that he wasn’t very hungry, and was going to take a stroll. He left Simon sitting alone at the table, feeling fretful and misunderstood. There was time. If he needed to find his own way, why shouldn’t he take the time to make certain he was making the right choices?

He also thought it was unfair of his father to imply that Simon’s relationships failed because they were shallow. He’d tried to make Marissa happy. Hadn’t he bought her a ton of expensive gifts? Hadn’t he taken her everywhere she’d wanted to go? Hadn’t they lived an amazing life together? That flirtation with Gretchen was a misstep, true, but a good woman would have heard him out, perhaps given him a hard time — and he admitted he deserved that much; he behaved stupidly when he drank too much — and then made him swear there’d be no more of that nonsense. She wouldn’t have torn into him in front of his friends and then left him like that.

He ate a little of the fish he’d ordered, but he wasn’t very hungry either, so he pushed it around the plate for a while, feeling sullen and unappreciated. He’d begun to be sorry that he had suggested this trip. He had enough tuxes to go to a dozen weddings, and anyway he didn’t really want to go to this one. A friend of his was marrying one of Simon’s distant cousins, though, and Simon had been asked to be part of the bridal party. He couldn’t very well get out of going.

But now, with Marissa gone, he didn’t even have a date. Going stag was the worst. He’d have to dance with a bunch of homely cousins, all of whom were looking for husbands. Simon wondered if he could come down with something that would keep him in bed on the day of the wedding. Food poisoning, perhaps, or the plague.

Not that his mother would allow it. Helena would throw a bucket of cold water on him if he tried to pretend to be sick. She’d done it to him in the past on several occasions, the most notable being the day he tried to get out of going to school to take an exam. She’d forced him to admit that he hadn’t studied, and then made him get dressed and go anyway. He got an F on the exam and when he complained, all she’d said was, “Then perhaps you’ll study next time, yes? You’ll have plenty of time now since you’re grounded for a week.”

When he complained about how unfair she was being, she’d made it two weeks. He hadn’t tried that again.

* * *

Her mother had left magazines strewn in Eirene’s path since the day she’d re turned home from school. They were filled with glossy photos of Simon Katsaros living it up on his yacht, in night clubs, or on the French Riviera with that skinny girlfriend of his, the Italian model. Welcome home, Eirene, here’s the boy we want you to marry! That was the message, of course. No question. Her mother was a great believer in propaganda. Simon’s picture stared up at her from the breakfast table, tales of his high life waited for her by the pool, and even followed her into the bathroom where a stack of glossy magazines and entertainment rags were piled on top of her more usual travel magazines. Eirene hadn’t seen Simon since she was twelve, but she was sick to death of the sight of him.

“Oh my, Simon’s girlfriend has walked out on him,” Eirene’s mother, Thea, exclaimed as Eirene walked through the sun room on her way out to the pool.

“What a surprise,” Eirene replied.

“I’m sure the poor boy could use some comforting.”

“Rebound relationships don’t ever work out well,” she said as she picked up a bottle of sun screen. “I wish his next woman luck.”

“Eirene, don’t you care one little bit?” Thea asked her.

“About Simon Katsaros? Mom the number of effs I give can be counted on the negative digits.”

“You know, the Katsaros family and the Dimitrios family planned for the two of you to be married one day.”

Tcha, sure, like that’ll happen, Eirene thought. To Thea she said, “Yes, Mom, I do know that. Thank God the days of selling your daughter to the highest bidder have not yet come to an end. What would happen to the economy? I’m going out for a swim.”

“Don’t forget the sun block!” Thea called after her and Eirene waved the bottle in the air.

Telling her parents that this marriage wasn’t going to happen hadn’t helped, so after a number of frustrating years, Eirene had opted for sarcasm which Thea didn’t get, but which Eirene’s father actually appreciated even if he didn’t accept what it was she was saying. He’d laugh and say, “You’re your father’s daughter all right,” And almost with the same breath, he’d say, “I hope Simon likes sarcasm.”

“The field where my fucks grow is barren,” she muttered as she stepped out of her sandals and stood at the edge of the pool, head tipped back, drinking in the sunlight. “I have not one to give.”

She dove in, cutting neatly through the clear, clean water. She loved swimming, loved being in the water. Sometimes she floated on the surface of the pool, eyes closed. Paul called her his Nayad, his elemental water spirit. He loved the way her black hair would float around her head like a halo, though he’d make some sort of obscure reference to a nimbus or to some species of seaweed. Never twice the same obscure reference. It was a little tiring.

Still, she loved him… or at least she liked him a lot, respected his intellect, and sensed that they had enough in common (including reasonably good sex) that they could build a fine, professional life together. She often imagined the two of them traveling around the world, living out of their suitcases. She’d photograph everything, and he would write about it in his, frankly a little florid style. She wished he was a bit more influenced by writers like Mark Twain, and less by ones like Henry James, but Paul was Paul. He was an original.

They’d already been to Italy and Turkey together, though she hadn’t actually told her parents that she’d gone there with him. She’d implied that she was traveling with a female school friend. It was just easier than imagining what her mother’s face would look like if she thought her twenty-two year old daughter was no longer a virgin. What would that do to the bride price? Eirene giggled and slipped under the water again.

When she surfaced, she caught sight of her older sister, Rhea, standing beside the pool. “What are you doing?” she shouted at Eirene.

“Swimming. It’s what you do when you propel yourself through water recreationally.”

“Ha ha… I’ve been waiting in the driveway for you. We were supposed to go pick up our dresses this morning.”

“Oh… darn, I’m sorry.” Eirene climbed out of the pool and toweled herself off. “Give me ten minutes.”

“You can’t go with wet hair,” Rhea insisted, following Eirene back into the house.

“Give me ten minutes! And don’t follow me!” She ran upstairs and locked herself in her bedroom, hoping Rhea wouldn’t come up and bother her while she was dressing. In the end, it took her twelve minutes to throw her clothes on, pull her long hair into a ponytail, and blow dry the tail just enough that it would pass Rhea’s critical gaze.

Rhea was incredibly tense about this wedding. It was her first matron-of-honor gig and she seemed to think that was dramatically different than maid-of-honor, or bridesmaid, or any other position in the bridal party, all of which she’d held many times. When Eirene pointed that out to her she gave her a that’s-how-much-you-know look.

Nicki, the bride, had very nearly asked Eirene to stand up with her too, but she’d already invited eight of her friends, sisters, and cousins to serve as bridesmaids, her best friend to be her maid-of-honor, and Rhea as matron, and there wasn’t going to be enough room for the bridal party at the front of the church if this wedding got any bigger. Eirene had jokingly made Nicki promise to think of her next time she got married. Nicki had looked horrified.

Secretly she was glad not to have to stand up. She didn’t like weddings and the only reason she was going was that Nicki was a cousin and she’d never hear the end of it if she tried to opt out. Fortunately Paul was her Plus One, and she figured they’d have a good time together, though Paul wasn’t big on dancing. Or on parties in general. And he wasn’t Greek, which meant he would know anyone but Eirene, wouldn’t be able to talk to most of them, and would be glared at by her parents the whole night. Still, she’d try to make sure he enjoyed himself.

Rhea was in the car, staring pointedly at her watch when Eirene jumped in beside her. “Twelve minutes. Sue me.”

“Honestly, you’re even more irresponsible than before you went away to school.”

“Rhea, it slipped my mind, okay? Don’t be such a jerk.”

“It’s that boy.”

“When did you turn into Yia-Yia?” Eirene demanded. “You talk like an old woman and you’re only four years older than I am.”

Rhea launched into a litany of Eirene’s sins, but Eirene refused to rise to the bait. She stared out the window and thought about what she was going to do with her life once she’d finished her graduate degree. She had hoped to go on and do her doctorate in Ancient History, but Paul, who was hoping to make a name for himself as a travel journalist, wanted to devote some serious time to travel, so she decided to put off her plans to support him. There was never any problem about traveling, it always enriched and broadened one’s life, she told herself. And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t go for the degree any time. In fact, there was nothing stopping her from writing her own, first-hand accounts of her investigation of ancient sites. She might not even need a doctorate if she followed Paul’s lead and began to be published.

“Are you not listening to me?”

“Not at all,” Eirene admitted. “I’ve heard all this a million times. Has it changed me in any way? No. Why don’t you save your breath, Rhea? And by the way, it’s not all about Paul. This is my life and I’m going to lead it however I want. And if Mama and Papa haven’t been able to change my mind, what makes you think you can?”

Rhea’s jaw clenched and she stared straight ahead. She didn’t say another word for the entire drive.

The dress more than made up for the unpleasantness in the car. It was a full-length silk sheath, as blue as Eirene’s eyes, and shot with gold. It was simple, elegant, and Eirene loved it. Even Rhea approved.

“Ugh, my dress is so mother-of-the-bride,” Rhea complained. “Poor Nicki has no taste.”

That was something they could agree on. The bridesmaids’ dresses were even worse.

“Let’s have some lunch,” Rhea suggested. “There’s a nice place a couple of doors down.”

“Promise you won’t lecture me,” Eirene told her.

“I swear. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Eirene doubted that, but she agreed.

Over lunch Rhea told her that she and her husband were moving to Berlin later in the year.

“What? Have you told Mama and Papa?”

“Not yet.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to. It’s another reason why I’m worried about your plans to go off to god-knows-where this year.”

“Why are you moving though?”

“Taki is being transferred. Honestly, if it was up to me…” she let the thought trail off.

Eirene laid her hand over her sister’s. “It’ll be fine. You’ll have a wonderful time there.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll come visit. I’ve always wanted to see Berlin.”

Rhea patted her hand. “You always make me feel better. I’ll miss you.”

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” Eirene promised. She was surprised at how much it bothered her to think of Rhea and Taki living so far away. Rhea was so much a part of home. To not be able to hop in the car and drive over to see her was upsetting.

Later, when she was getting ready for bed, Eirene remembered that Taki’s boss was Nick Katsaros, and the whole Katsaros family would be at Nicki’s wedding. What would happen, she wondered, if she cornered Katsaros and asked him to reconsider the transfer. Would he even know what she was talking about? Katsaros and Matthias Dimitrios were business partners and friends, but would he know Taki as anything more than Rhea’s husband? Would he even remember who Rhea was?

Still, it couldn’t hurt, she decided. Just a few words, a simple request to see if Taki couldn’t be spared. Without any penalty, of course. She didn’t want her interference to cost him anything. She’d have to make that clear. She’d even dance with his odious son if it would warm the old man up a little, get him to see her as a potential daughter-in-law the way the families had long planned. She wasn’t above it if it would help her sister stay close to the family.

* * *

On the morning of the wedding, Eirene and Rhea had their hair done and got manicures. Rhea had a lot to do so they parted company after an early lunch, and Eirene did a little shopping before she returned home. Paul was there waiting for her, looking fretful.

“Where were you?” he demanded. I told you I’d be here by one.”

“And I told you it would take me until at least two to get back. You don’t listen.”

“And you don’t respect my time.”

“Paul, I told you when I’d be home. You chose to ignore me.”

“Your family hates me,” he said. He looked miserable and she thawed a little.

“No, they don’t. They just don’t know you.”

“I hate this city,” he said.

She sighed. “Why don’t we have a drink by the pool? It’ll relax you. “We’ll be leaving here about five, so I’ll still have time to dress.”

“Why don’t we just go upstairs?” he asked, slipping an arm around her waist. Was he asking what she thought he was asking?

“Uh… Paul, this is my parents’ home. You’re not coming upstairs with me.”

“Don’t be such a prude. Who cares anymore?”

“My parents, that’s who. And if you think they dislike you now, you cannot begin to imagine what my father would think of you if he found you in my bedroom.” Or what he might do to you, she added silently. But the bottom line was that she respected her parents and their rules. She’d never even think about doing what Paul was suggesting.

She fixed him a gin and tonic and got him calmed down.

The wedding was everything Eirene expected. It was big, loud, lavish, and filled with relatives who asked her personal questions without a second thought. Paul enjoyed the ceremony, but ruined it by explaining to everyone who would listen that he was a student of religious rituals, and talking about how it compared to various other ceremonies. Guests who were willing to cut him slack for not being Greek ran in the other direction when he began to discuss the deeper meaning of Orthodox rituals.

“So he’s nice to look at,” Nicki observed, “but does he ever draw a breath?”

“He has good qualities,” Eirene replied, knowing how lame it sounded.

“Well let’s hope that includes being great in bed.”

Eirene smiled in a manner that she hoped implied that everything was great in that area, but couldn’t bring herself to lie outright. It wasn’t great, it was adequate. But adequate was all she expected. She’d long felt that the whole cosmic sex thing was a myth. No one she knew ever talked about how the earth had moved or even about their men ensuring they had a good time every time. She wasn’t stupid; she got that sex was more often than not a commodity to be traded for security, and sometimes she thought that she’d taken up with Paul because she had absolutely no illusions about him. It was a nice, low-key relationship based on mutual interests.

Still, it would have been nice if he’d made more of an effort. When she tried to get him to dance, he flat-out refused. Well, if he thought she’d just sit there and watch the way he was doing, he was mistaken. If he wouldn’t dance with her, she’d find someone else. The room was filled with her cousins. One of them would be willing.

She was dancing with Nikos, a distant cousin on her mother’s side, a mining engineer who had recently been working in South America, when another man cut in, and swept her away before Nikos could tell her about the difficulty of extracting… whatever it was he’d been talking about.

“I thought I’d save you from my cousin,” the stranger said. Except he wasn’t exactly a stranger. He looked so familiar. Probably a cousin. “He’s a great guy, but when he gets started in on mining, it’s all I can do to stay awake. “You’re Christ Dimitrios’ daughter, right?”

“Eirene, yes.”

He smiled and she realized that she was dancing with Simon Katsaros. No one else had a smile like that. Up close it was staggering.

“You know we’re sort of unofficially engaged,” he told her.

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that subject.”

He laughed and she hated it that it excited her, hated that she found him attractive with his black curls and eyes the color of old cognac. She was swept away by his beauty which the newspaper and magazine photos didn’t come close to capturing. She knew she was staring so she looked away.

“I remember you being about five feet tall and knock-kneed,” he told her.

“High heels and a long dress help a lot.”

“You don’t know how to take a compliment.”

“I didn’t hear one.”

He laughed again. “Fair enough. What I should have said was that you’re far more beautiful than I recall.”

“So are you.”

“Good genes,” he replied, and she knew it was true. Helena Katsaros was stunning.

“Now who doesn’t know how to take a compliment?”

“My parents taught me to be modest.”

“With your media coverage?” she asked. “Please. Pull the other one.”

“Are you here with anyone? I mean other than family. I saw Christ and Thea earlier.”

“I have a date, yes.”

“I don’t. I’m supposed to be squiring around one of the bridesmaids, but she’s already disappeared.”

“I wouldn’t think you’d want for someone to take to a wedding. Considering all I read about you, that is.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Don’t believe everything you read about me. I’m just an average guy with too much money.”

“I’m glad to hear you say it,” Eirene replied. It was what she’d thought all along.

“But I’m doing something with that money,” he added.

“Charity work? Making the world a better place?”

“Uhh… I started my own business.”

“Well done,” she said, with a touch of sarcasm. As if starting your own business with daddy’s money counted as actually doing something.

“To tell the truth, I wanted to work at Katsaros, but my father isn’t keen on the idea.” It wasn’t precisely the truth, but it would do.

“Why not? Are you an idiot?”

“Well, I might be, yes, but he’s oddly territorial about his work. He doesn’t like to share it with anyone.” And that was a flat out lie. What Nick Katsaros had told his son was: “You’re a smart boy, Simon, but you’re not willing to apply yourself to any work I give you, so it’s best if you don’t try right now. We can revisit this in the future.” Simon had been both relieved and mildly insulted.

“How odd.”

“It’s an odd family. But then you know that, don’t you?”

“Our fathers are business associates, and our parents are in the same social circle. That doesn’t mean I really know much about you or your family.”

“Except what you read in the gossip rags.”

“I don’t read gossip rags!” she protested, realizing belatedly that he’d put her on the defensive. “My mother leaves them around hoping I’ll read them and be consumed by the desire to marry you and have a lot of babies.”

“And it’s not working?”

“Not really.”

“Pity. We’d have made some pretty children.” That was the truth, she thought. She knew she was pretty, and he was stunning… she would have liked to see what their offspring would look like. It made her unaccountably wistful just thinking about it.

The dance ended and Simon escorted her back to her table where Paul was staring at his cell phone.

“Is this your date?” Simon asked.

“Yes. Paul, this is Simon Katsaros. Simon, Paul Andrews.”

The men shook hands, though Paul did so without much enthusiasm. “Simon’s father is a business associate of my father’s,” she explained.

“And we’re also distant cousins, but that’s not really a thing since I think virtually everyone in Greece is related to everyone else.” Simon was going for a laugh, but Paul didn’t get it. He wasn’t Greek. “Okay. Well, I leave you in good hands. I’m going off to dance with some other spinsters as befits my role as a groom’s man.”

He disappeared into the swirl of dancers and Eirene heard Paul make a disgusted noise. “What?”

“I can’t abide useless types like that.”

Before she’d met Simon and danced with him, she’d have said much the same thing. In fact, Eirene still thought Simon was rather useless, but hearing that same sentiment from Paul, with his expression of sullen superiority put her back up a little.

“He’s a businessman, Paul. You may not appreciate that, but he’s not useless.” And that was sharper than she’d intended. She drained the wine in her glass and refilled it.

“You’re having another glass of wine?” he asked. Was he determined to irritate her?

“I’m going to have all the wine I want, thank you very much. It’s a wedding and I’m having a good time.”

“It’s just… well, you know how you get, Eirene.”

She drained her glass and refilled it a second time. “No, Paul, tell me how I get.” He’d been such a pill about this wedding right from the get-go, and now he was determined to ruin it for her. She wasn’t going to have that.

“Never mind,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“You’re goddamn right, never mind,” she snapped, feeling a bit light-headed as the wine began to do its work.

“There, see? The language.”

“Oh my God, Paul, when did you turn into a prissy old maid?” she asked. But she already knew the answer. He’d always been one. Paul was so uptight that mutual friends had been known to joke about having the pole surgically removed from his ass before they got married.

“I think I’m going to go sit outside until you come to your senses,” he said and left the table. Eirene marched over to the bar and ordered a brandy.

“Well if you’ve moved the party over here, I’m with you.” It was Simon, standing at her elbow. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the bartender.

She found she was a little irritated by Simon, too, but not nearly so much as by Paul, so she managed a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“What’s up? Where’s Mr. I-Disapprove?”

She nearly snorted the brandy out her nose. “Is that what you thought of him?”

“Due respect to you and your taste in men, but I can’t help but feel he must have some redeeming quality that’s invisible to the rest of us.”

“He has a huge cock,” Eirene blurted, and discovered that Simon could blush.

“Well, uh… I think that about covers it,” he managed, and took a bracing sip of his brandy.

“I’m just kidding. He doesn’t.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sorry for your sake.”

“Oh God,” she said and started to cry. Simon took her by the elbow and steered her out of the reception, and down the hall to a little alcove with a bench. “Sit down, now, and cry all you want. I’m not going to tell anyone.” He handed her a handkerchief.

Eirene took it, blew her nose and said, “I don’t know what I see in him. We have similar interests, but we’re so different!”

“Similar interests make for good friends sometimes, but partners? It’s usually not enough.”

Eirene drank down her glass of brandy, noting Simon’s look of alarm. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

“Okay, how about we go down to the lobby bar and have a cup of coffee together?”

“Or a drink.”

“Or a drink,” he said without much enthusiasm.

“Spoil sport,” she said, but she was thinking of Paul when she said it. “Race you!” She hitched her skirt up to her knees and flew down the hallway with Simon coming up the rear.

She woke with a foul headache and a taste in her mouth that reminded her of the bottom of her parents’ canary cage. What the hell had happened at the wedding? She opened her eyes. And where the hell was she? In a panic she looked around and saw Simon stretched out on the chaise, eyes closed, a shaft of sunlight falling on him. He looked like a young god, and for a moment she wished with all her heart that their so-called engagement was a real thing, and not just a product of their parents’ wishful thinking.

And then she realized that she was lying in a hotel bed, in her underwear. “Oh God,” she muttered.

Simon must not have been asleep because he heard her and his eyes opened. “Morning. How you feeling?”

“Like hammered shit,” she admitted.

“I tried to get you to drink a lot of water last night before you went out, but you kept spitting it at me and yelling about how you were a sea urchin.”

Eirene cringed. Yeah, that’s what Paul had meant when he’d said, “you know how you get.”

“For the record, Simon, did we—” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, though.”

“Ah, no. You were very out of it and there are rules about that. I did undress you and put you to bed though.”

“Why?”

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted your family or boyfriend to see you like that. I mean, rare form and all, and I enjoyed it, but I thought I’d err on the side of caution.”

“Thank you. Oh, my head.” She clutched at it.

“Let me get you some water and aspirin.”

She eased herself up onto her feet and groaned. She hadn’t felt this rough since that week she’d spent in Rome with some friends, the semester before she met Paul. Maybe there really was some value to hanging out with a prissy old maid. Oh God, had she really called him that to his face?

“Here.” He gave her a handful of aspirin and a glass of water. “Finish the water. You’re dehydrated.”

“You know a lot about hangovers, huh?” Eirene tossed down the aspirin and drained the water.

“Comes with the territory.”

“I have to go.”

“Whoa, calm down. Your family thinks we drove out to Rafina to watch the sunrise and have breakfast. They were thrilled. Let’s not ruin their fun so soon. We’ll get some breakfast in, you’ll start to feel better, and then you can go home, say you’re exhausted and go to bed. Everyone wins.”

“You always have an angle?”

“No angle here, Eirene. I just saw a train wreck waiting to happen and pulled the switch. I’ll drive you home as soon as you stop looking like you angered the gods. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

She didn’t feel like one, but figured it was a good idea and went off to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her, and felt stupid doing it. He hadn’t taken advantage of her when she was out cold, so why did she think he’d molest her in the shower?

The shower stall had a tiled seat, for which she was incredibly grateful. She sank down onto it and let the water from the multiple jets wash away the sticky haze of alcohol that seemed to be clinging to her skin. Had they really done ouzo shots in the bar? It also washed away some of the cobwebs, and she began to think more clearly, cringing to remember all she’d done. She really shouldn’t drink.

As the discomfort ebbed, Eirene began to feel grateful to Simon. Gallantry was not a quality that she’d associated with him, but he’d proved to be more gallant than Paul who had walked out on her in disgust over a couple of glasses of wine. She didn’t blame him for making a fool of herself, but he certainly hadn’t helped.

She finished her shower and came out, wearing one of the fluffy white robes the hotel provided, her dark hair wrapped in a towel.

“You look miles better,” Simon told her. “Breakfast just arrived. Come and sit down.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t know me.”

As he pulled her chair out he said, “You remind me of my sister, Athena. I’d hope that someone would be good to her if she made a misstep.”

Misstep. That was a nice way of saying that Eirene had fucked up hugely.

“Will your boyfriend give you grief about this?”

She sighed. “I doubt I still have a boyfriend after last night.”

“He didn’t see you as far as I know. Nobody did.”

She felt weak with relief, but then a new and surprising thought occurred to her, that she’d lost the chance to have Paul break with her.

“You don’t look happy. Anything I can do?” he asked as she sipped the hot, bracing coffee and prayed for the caffeine to do its work quickly.

“No.”

“Were you hoping he’d see you?”

“Let’s not talk about this.”

They ate in silence until Simon said, “Eirene, if you don’t want him anymore, then cut him loose.”

“The way you do with your women? No thank you, I’m no that callous.” That hadn’t come out the way she’d meant it to. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine. Yes, I can be callous. Marmalade?”

“I really am sorry,” she repeated.

“Let’s not talk about this,” he said, throwing her words back at her.

* * *

It was all confusion. Everything Eirene had thought was true about her life had been thrown into disarray in one night. Simon Katsaros had been a true gentleman to her, protecting her from the consequences of her silly, reactive behavior instead of taking advantage of it. But Paul, the man she’d thought seriously about spending the rest of her life with, had treated her as if she was a wayward child. Not only had he walked out of the wedding — and Eirene realized now that he had just been looking for an excuse to leave, a way to justify himself — but late the next day, he’d phoned to tell her how upset he’d been that she’d behaved so provocatively with a vacuous rich boy like Simon, and had chosen to indulge in behavior that had caused problems between them in the past, i.e., drinking too much. And she’d picked a fight with him, he added. When he was being nice enough to escort her to a wedding he hadn’t wanted to attend.

The sheer unfairness of his accusations left Eirene speechless. “You’re unbelievable, Paul. First, dancing with someone other than you is not behaving provocatively, all right? I was not spinning around on a pole in front of him, wearing pasties and a g-string.”

“Oh my God, Eirene—”

“And my drinking is not your damn business.” That one took some effort, she had to admit. She knew that she often behaved badly when she drank. It was fair that Paul didn’t like it and said so, but she was not willing to give an inch that afternoon. “And finally, you were the one who picked the fight and then walked out of the wedding, leaving me without an escort.”

“I imagine you found a protector pretty quickly.” The way he said “protector” made his meaning crystal clear.

“You’re being utterly offensive, Paul. I hope you realize that.”

“Telling the truth shouldn’t be construed as offense, Eirene, unless the offended party has something about which she feels guilty.”

She counted to ten. Then she did it again. Then she thought “Oh to hell with it!” and said, “Paul, you’re an asshole, you know that?”

Miracle of miracles, that seemed to shut him up, at least for a few seconds. When he responded, he was ice cold. “I think possibly we need to take a break,” he told her, and Eirene realized that she felt nothing but relief.

“I think that’s a good idea, Paul. But let’s make it a permanent one.”

His tone changed quickly. “It wasn’t my intention… Eirene, I didn’t mean I wanted to break up with you.”

“But that’s what I mean,” she told him. I think it’s for the best. This isn’t working for either of us.”

“But—”

“No hard feelings, Paul. It just wasn’t meant to be.” She stopped short of the “It’s not you, it’s me” line because it really was him. She hadn’t really understood how tiresome Paul was until she met Simon, who had treated her more considerately than Paul ever had.

When she went downstairs, her mother greeted her with a knowing look.

“No, just stop, Mom. It was nothing. Just breakfast.”

“He’s a good boy,” her mother observed.

 

Simon got back home in time to say good-bye to Athena who was headed back to London. He drove her out to the airstrip and on the way she asked him what was up with Eirene.

“It’s just what I told you. She had a fight with her boyfriend, so we went down to the bar and had a couple of drinks, and then went for a drive.”

“You drove drunk?” Athena was horrified.

“I was drinking club soda. I figured she’d need some moral support, so I was careful.”

“Okay. I approve.”

“What a relief,” he teased.

“So is there something there?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because while you’re a good guy, you don’t often put that much effort into people you barely know.”

“Barely know? We were formally engaged at birth.”

“No you weren’t!”

Actually it was when we were teenagers, and it wasn’t formal, it was just the families saying, “Wow, those two crazy kids belong together.””

“More like “Wow, these family fortunes belong together,” right?”

“Probably. But you know Mom and Dad have been friends with Thea and Christ forever.”

“It’s a nice family. I’d marry into it.”

He kissed his little sister good-bye and waved her off, but the whole time he was thinking about Eirene. She was a beautiful woman, ravishing in fact. But Simon was curiously ambivalent about her. The blue-black curls that drifted around that perfect face, and the Aegean-blue of her eyes…dazzling, exactly the sort of looks he adored. But she seemed both vulnerable and prickly, and it kept him off balance. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did, and it made him want to take care of her even while he felt he really ought to keep his distance. She wasn’t just another party girl, she was a woman he thought he could love, and the thought frightened him.

The whole idea of love frightened him. He had such an amazing example in his parents, but how could he hope to be so lucky? How could Simon imagine finding his soul-mate in a woman who he’d known — though not well — since they were children? It seemed almost wrong, like falling in love with a relative. A close one, he corrected, since distant cousins married all the time.

No, he was certain it was her oppressive beauty that had ensnared him. He’d get over it. He’d grow tired of her and leave her the way he did with every other woman. He’d be callous and she’d have something pithy to say about his going, something that would cut him down to size and make him wonder if he wasn’t making a mistake. She’d hang on to him because she was exactly what he had always hoped for in a woman. She was an equal.

He liked that he never quite knew what to expect from her. As he was driving her home and they were getting their stories straight, he’d said, “Would you like to have dinner with me one night soon? I’d really enjoy spending time with you when you weren’t drunk or hung over.”

“Nice invitation,” Eirene had snapped. But then she softened and said, “Oh why not? We are sort of engaged after all. Might as well find out what the fuss is about.”

As he watched Athena’s plane climb into the sky, he had a kind of epiphany, thinking about everything that had happened in the last thirty-six hours. He thought perhaps he could happily spend the rest of his life with Eirene. She’d never give him an inch, never be dull or tiresome. She’d go toe-to-toe with him sometimes, and other times she’d be right at his side. This wasn’t just another conquest, this was something that felt real and permanent, it was something to work toward, not just take and forget.

He planned their dinner date carefully, choosing a place that was intimate and not terribly expensive. Eirene wouldn’t be impressed with money, she’d appreciate good taste. He brought her flowers when he came to pick her up, nothing flashy, just some lovely white gardenias. She seemed surprised, pleased, and the sight of her with her head bowed and her dark hair curtaining the flowers as she took in their warm, sweet scent, touched a chord in Simon that made him feel hopeful.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, pressing them lightly against her cheek. Against her golden skin, the whiter-than-white petals seemed to glow.

“You seem like a gardenia girl,” he told her. He couldn’t read her expression and hoped he hadn’t said anything too sappy.

Over dinner they spoke honestly of their dreams and ambitions. He was impressed by her independence and her desire to see the world, and it was all he could do not to say, “I can show it to you, all of it.” He already knew her well enough to know that displays of his wealth would put her off.

“I haven’t traveled enough,” he admitted. “I mean I have, but not just to travel. There’s always some bit of business, or some family thing. I’ve been places, but I don’t know them, do you see what I mean?”

“I think so. You’ve not taken the time to know them intimately, yes?”

It was an odd moment because he had the sense that what she’d said was more about the women he’d known than the places he’d visited. “Yes, I think you’re right. I’d like to change that. I’d like to go somewhere just to be there, to look at the place with the eyes of someone who wants to drink it all in.”

“Only you can do that for yourself,” she reminded him.

“I know. Where’s the first place you’d visit if you could choose any destination?”

“There are so many. But I think I’d like to start somewhere like Bali, to experience the culture. And I’ve never seen the northern lights. Can you imagine?” Once she began to talk about her chosen destinations, Simon just sat back and listened. Her enthusiasm was contagious and he found himself longing to see the things she was describing, wanting to see them with her.

“What about you? What’s the one thing you’ve never done that you would love to do?”

Simon didn’t think saying “Marrying you,” would go over, so he chose a different dream, one that had been with him since he was a child. “It would involve time travel,” he admitted.

Eirene’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t have modest dreams, do you?”

He shrugged. “The thing is, I wouldn’t want to change anything. That wouldn’t be fair or right. I want a clear bubble in which I can travel unseen to any time.”

“And when would you go to?”

“I’d spy on a lot of things. But mostly I think I’d like to see the beginning of the universe. I’d want to watch life evolve on this planet. I want to see dinosaurs! When I was a little boy I wanted that more than anything.”

“You’ve got enough money, you could make your own Jurassic Park.”

“That would be terrible. This isn’t their time. They’d be freaks, and you know how humans would treat them. No, I want to see them in their own time, and among their own kind. I want to see them when they owned this planet.”

She was staring at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re a romantic.”

“Guilty, I guess.”

“What else?”

Embarrassed, he mumbled something about great events in history.

“And you wouldn’t try to change even the bad things?”

“No, because everything that happens in the world effects everything that comes after. I could maybe kill Hitler when he was just a boy, but maybe that would mean that you would never be born.”

“Don’t you think that would be a fair trade? I do.”

“That call is not mine to make, is it?”

“No. You’re right. It’s just so satisfying to think of what good it might do.”

“And someone worse might have come up through the ranks to take his place in history’s void.”

She shuddered. “You make a good point,” she admitted. “Let’s talk about something else.”

After dinner they took a long, moonlit walk and talked about family and the future. Simon had a sense that they wanted much the same things, stability, children, a sense that they’d made the world a better place. Again, he felt hopeful.

It fell to Eirene to initiate a good-night kiss because Simon was determined to be the perfect gentleman. It was a sweet, tentative one, promising nothing and yet filled with promise. It made Simon dizzy. It made him blissfully happy. He felt like a teenager again, and once they’d said good-night, he drifted back to the car, thinking about weddings.

She was everything he wanted. He was certain of it.

* * *

Kosta had been right to turn his attentions to Athena Katsaros when he had because the next time he saw Simon, the man was changed. It was for the better probably, though not for the betterment of Kosta’s business. Simon planned to close down the business. He was going to work for his father’s company.

“I’ve finally convinced him that I’m ready to apply myself to the business. I am finally ready,” he added. “And I’m getting married.”

“Married? Well I can’t fault you for that,” Kosta admitted. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“The daughter of one of the Katsaros business associates.” That was playing it close to the vest. He didn’t want Kosta to know too much. But as it happened, Kosta already knew that Simon had been seeing the Dimitrios girl pretty regularly for months.

“Can’t you do both? This is a nice sideline for us.” Kosta still needed financial backing, though he was close to being able to strike out on his own. And now he needed more introductions to people with the money to buy what he was selling. Simon’s rich, idiot friends were fine for the more minor-league items, but what he was getting lines on were museum-quality antiquities, very rare, and very hard to move if you didn’t know the right people.

Simon was looking Kosta up and down, clearly surprised by the changes he was seeing. “You’re looking… prosperous,” he observed.

“You think?” He brushed an imaginary speck of dirt off his cuff. “I thought it was time to take the business to a higher level. The people I buy from distrust me if I don’t look like I’m on the make, but the people I sell to prefer a little more respectability, even if it’s only on the surface.” Did you get that, rich boy?

“It’s a good move,” was all Simon said to that. He didn’t respond at all to any hidden meaning in Kosta’s words.

And it was a good move. Athena had responded very positively to his casual overtures. They’d actually had coffee together at a cafe in Neil’s Yard. She’d laughed at his jokes, had told him about her classes and her plans. She’d also agreed to have dinner with him the next time he was in London. He couldn’t help but smile as he remembered that afternoon. He liked the girl well enough that being around her wasn’t a trial. He’d be good to her, and she’d adore him. It was enough.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking about a joke I’d heard. It’s nothing. When is the wedding?”

Simon gave him a look that said the date didn’t matter since Kosta wouldn’t be invited anyway. “I thought I’d send a gift.”

“We haven’t set a date yet, Simon told him. We’re thinking in the winter.”

Good plan. Well let me know so I can pick out something nice.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“So you’re determined to bow out of the business, then?”

“You can handle it. You’ve handled most of it all along.”

“Well, if I can’t convince you, then it simply remains to finish off the contracts we’ve made and get your money to you. I don’t suppose there are any job openings in the Katsaros empire.”

“For someone with your skill set? I don’t think so.”

“No? Pity. You’re putting me out of business after all.”

“I have a feeling you’ll land on you feet, Kosta.”

With the money he still held, Kosta figured he could get one more shipment out of the Middle East before Simon shut them down. Maybe he could find his own buyers. And if this thing with Athena didn’t work out, he’d simply abscond with Simon’s share of the profits and start over somewhere else, though that wouldn’t have been his first choice.

Kosta could buy and sell anything if he put his mind to it. He’d been doing it all his life, and doing it well. He liked the jobs that paid well, of course, and that usually meant something illegal. He had never balked at circumventing the law when he could do it to his profit.

It would have been nice to relax though, and be a Katsaros by marriage. The truth was that Kosta didn’t much care what he did so long as there was a reasonable chance that he wouldn’t have to do it forever. “I’ll be in touch,” he promised. It was nearly time for another trip to London.

But first there was business to be done.

He arrived in London a week later to find Athena packing to go home. “Your timing is terrible,” she told him and kissed his cheek. It was friendly and suggested that she was comfortable with him. That was good.

“Why are you leaving?”

“My brother’s engagement party. He would decide to have it just as the fall term started.” She shook her head and laughed. “Because of course everything is about me.”

“As well it should be. Can I at least drive you to the airport?” he asked. “I have to catch a plane back to Athens later tonight anyway, and—” It was a lie, of course, but he was playing an angle.

“Well that’s perfect. You can fly with me and we can yammer the whole way there.”

“Can I get a ticket for your flight at the eleventh hour?” he asked.

“Please! I’m taking one of the family planes. So join me. It’s not a long flight, but we can kick back and enjoy it. And when we get to Halithos, you can meet my family, and then we’ll arrange for you to go on to Athens.”

It was exactly what he’d been hoping for. If he could meet her parents before Simon could hustle him away, he could charm them into inviting him to stay a while. “I guess I could do that. Let me see if I can cancel my ticket.” He pulled out his cell and pretended to be pulling up an airline website. After a few minutes of scrolling through some online news site, he said, “There, it’s done.”

“Great!

This was working out better than he’d hoped.

The plane was so sleek and beautiful that Kosta decided that he was going to have one of his own one day. He’d name it The Athena. If people actually named their planes. Or even if they didn’t. It would be a nice, romantic gesture to name something so lovely after Athena. She’d be thrilled.

Once aboard, Athena ordered them a meal, and asked Kosta if he’d like a drink.

“Coffee if I may. Very sweet.”

It arrived once they were airborne, along with a little plate of cookies. “This might spoil my appetite for dinner, but I don’t care,” he joked. “These look too good to ignore.” He passed the plate to Athena who took one and smiled at him.

“Dinner won’t be for an hour yet,” she said.

They chatted about his business. He never mentioned Simon, wanting to keep this thing that was happening between Athena and himself. He was enjoying her, and making sure she enjoyed him. Kosta was on his best behavior.

Not long after their dinner arrived, Athena’s phone rang. “Oh it’s my brother. I should take this.”

“I’ll make myself scarce.” He got up and went to the lavatory to give her some privacy. But when he returned a few minutes later, She was weeping uncontrollably.

“Athena, sweetheart… what’s wrong?” He couldn’t say why the sight affected him so. It almost hurt him to see her so distressed.

From what he could gather from her garbled sobbing, her parents had been killed in an accident. What kind, he wasn’t certain. And it didn’t matter at that point, so long as he was there for her. He held her while she cried and said soothing things.

This wasn’t at all what he had planned, and he didn’t like taking advantage of this girl’s grief, but he was going to do what he needed to do.

Simon was waiting at the airstrip when the plane landed. That wasn’t what Kosta had planned either, but he figured he might as well make the best of it. Athena flew into Simon’s arms. Simon hugged her, all the while glaring at Kosta over her shoulder.

The Dimitrios girl was there too, looking upset, but she approached Kosta while the others huddled together in their grief. “I’m Eirene, Simon’s fiancee.”

“Kosta Petrakos,” he told her, using his real name instead of the one he’d done business with. “I couldn’t get much detail out of Athena, and I didn’t want to badger her, but—”

“Their parents were killed in a helicopter crash.” She must have seen Kosta wince because she said, “From what I understand, it was pilot error. He flew too close to some power lines.”

“I’m so sorry. What a shame. Athena had been telling me about your engagement party just before she got the call.”

“No,” Eirene sighed. “We’ll behaving a funeral instead. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Kosta managed to look embarrassed. “Look, I’d planned to fly into Athens before Athena invited me to fly with her. Is there some way for me to… uh…”

“Why don’t you come on up to the house with us and we’ll sort that out? Unless you’re in a huge hurry.”

“I don’t want to impose at a moment like this,” Kosta told her, actually sounding sincere. “It was just bad luck that I was on the plane today.”

“Nonsense. It was good for Athena to have someone to hold her hand.”

As if on cue, Athena turned and took Kosta by the hand. “I want to introduce my friend, Kosta Petrakos. He’s been so kind.” She looked up at him with adoring eyes and he knew he had her if he wanted her.

On the other hand, Simon glared.

“I guess you’ve met my almost sister-in-law, Eirene Dimitrios. This is my brother, Simon.”

“Good to meet you, Simon.” Kosta extended a hand and Simon continued to glare.

“Simon?”

“You’ve all had a terrible loss. Someone point me toward Athens.”

“It’s over there.” Simon said, pointing.

“Is he supposed to swim?” Eirene joked, though clearly she was uncomfortable with Simon’s bad manners. “Let’s see if we can’t get him on a plane.”

“Or a helicopter,” Simon muttered.

“Can’t he stay?” Athena asked plaintively.

“No, Athena,” Kosta told her. “Not right now. This time is for family.”

Simon finally gave orders to have someone fly Kosta on to Athens, then herded the women into the car and drove off without a backward look.

Kosta knew he’d be hearing from Simon quite soon. And in fact, he’d barely arrived at his hotel in Athens before his cell rang.

“What the hell are you doing?” Simon hissed.

“Checking into my hotel.”

“I mean with my sister. Why were you on that plane?”

“She invited me. I told her I was headed back to Ath—”

“You know what I mean!”

“We’re friends. I hope that’s not a problem for you.”

“You stay away from her,” Simon warned.

“I think that’s up to Athena.”

“No it’s not. Don’t make me—”

“What? Tell her what we’ve been getting up to? Selling contraband? Selling artifacts on the black market? You can’t warn her away from me without exposing yourself, rich boy, so go on ahead.”

“I’ll tell her something else.”

“She won’t believe you.”

“Fuck you, Kosta. You stay far away from my family.”

“But will they stay far away from me?” he asked. What do you think?”

The connection broke and Kosta smiled. All he really had to do was wait and Athena would come to him.

* * *

The next few days were nightmarish for everyone, but particularly for Simon who now had Athena to worry about. But with Kosta in Athens and Athena on Halithos, there wasn’t much danger of mischief. He could deal with them after the funeral.

It was an enormous funeral, too. Friends, relatives, and business associates came from all over the world to pay their respects. And a staggering number chose to remind Simon of the one thing he didn’t want to think about at all: He was now head of the family, and the owner of the Katsaros Company. He didn’t know the first thing about the business, but he was being flung headlong into it. It made him feel quite ill to think about how he was going to handle things.

Eirene noticed, understood, and stood by him. In quiet moments when it was just the two of them, sitting close and holding hands, she would remind him that she was there for him, that she’d help in any way she could.

“Let’s get married.”

“We will.”

“No… not the big wedding. I can’t do that. Let’s just elope. I want to be married to you, but I can’t bear the thought of going through with all that fuss.”

She squeezed his hand. “Whatever you want, I want,” she assured him. “We’ll wait a week or two and then just slip off and do it quietly, all right?”

“Perfect.” He kissed her softly, wondering if their nascent sex life would ever recover from the blow grief had dealt it. They had only just become lovers before the engagement, and were still terribly tentative with each other. After Nick and Helena died, Simon had withdrawn physically, unable to find a way through the terrible fog of misery that hung over him. Eirene understood. She never pressured him, never complained. But Simon felt as if he’d never want to make love to anyone, not even Eirene, again.

He had tried to raise the subject with her, talk about his concerns, but her reply had been a quiet one. “Love is patient,” she’d said. But what if patience wasn’t enough? He felt so emptied out by grief that he wondered if he could even still love. Was what he thought he felt for Eirene and Athena love or just a habit of mind?

Beyond that, he was consumed by guilt. He wondered how he could have prevented their deaths even knowing that it was so far outside of his control that even thinking those thoughts was verging on crazy. He felt guilty for not having spent more time with them. He had lived his empty, selfish life, always assuming that they’d be there when he felt like spending time with them.

And he felt guilty for his ties to Kosta, for the business he had become involved in. He’d known that there was more to it than Kosta had ever said, that it was no nearly as benign as he’d wanted to believe. But a part of him had always felt that if he simply looked the other way, he wasn’t as culpable as Kosta, that his hands would stay cleaner. Now he saw so clearly how wrong he’d been, how misguided. When he thought about what his parents would have said about it… what they might be thinking of him if they were watching him from Heaven (And he had no doubt that’s where they had gone.), and it made him feel sick with guilt.

His depression deepened over the days following the funeral until he could barely get out of bed. That was when Eirene put her foot down. She told him he had to get up and go talk to a doctor. She couldn’t marry someone who wouldn’t be a partner.

For love of her, Simon stirred himself.

* * *

It was such a relief when Simon finally sought some help for his depression. Though Eirene had never lost anyone who was as close to her as Simon’s parents had been to him, she understood how devastating the loss could be. Athena worked it out with tears and anger, spending hours a day in the gym, or jogging around the island. She exhausted herself and little-by-little Eirene saw Athena’s grief begin to resolve itself into acceptance.

But Simon couldn’t seem to move on. Certainly the weight of the Katsaros empire was heavy on him now, and contributed to his anxiety. But the longer he went without resolution, the worse this was going to become. So Eirene marched into his bedroom one morning and told him that if he didn’t get up and go get help, she was calling off the engagement.

She’d made an appointment for him and she said she’d take him to see the doctor. She would do everything she could to help, but Simon had to help himself. When he got up and got dressed, her relief was palpable.

The first step was medication, and within days she could see an improvement. Simon’s anxiety ebbed and he became more his old self. She could tell that he was still having dark moments, and that he was having a hard time motivating himself, but the most crippling part of his condition was resolving itself.

Athena went back to school. Simon seemed reluctant to let her go, but in the end, he’d said, “Please don’t do anything rash, Athena. And your friend? Please be careful there.” But he never explained what he meant. When asked, he simply looked tired and said, “Please trust me on this.”

Several months after the funeral, just a few weeks shy of the date they’d originally set for the wedding, Simon and Eirene were married quietly on Halithos. Athena flew back in from London, alone this time, and Eirene’s family attended. It was not the joyous affair Eirene had hoped for, but it wasn’t the somber one she’d feared. Simon seemed in better spirits, even a bit frisky.

She really didn’t know what to expect from the wedding night. Their sex life had been cut so short by the tragedy and Simon’s depression that if nothing at all happened between them beyond a kiss or two, she wouldn’t have been too surprised. She was prepared to wait for him, but at the same time, she missed his touch.

As lovers, they had only just begun to know each other. Their lovemaking had been tentative. Exciting, yes, but still so new, and so tied up with learning about each other that it had never become full and rich. She wanted to know Simon inside out. She wanted to explore every possible avenue of desire with him, to find the deepest wellsprings of passion.

But she was willing to wait. He was there with her; they would find each other again.

That night, they went up to their bedroom and Simon sat down on the bed. He patted the spot beside himself and said, “Come and sit, my darling.”

Eirene sat beside him.

“I have so much to atone for,” he began.

“No. Oh no, Simon, you have nothing to be sorry for.” She touched his cheek and he leaned into it. “You are coping with a huge loss, and I understand that.”

“You are so good for me,” he told her. “You are my best medicine.” He leaned in and kissed her softly.

They had shared kisses, many of them, but this one felt promising, as if they were moving toward something. When he kissed her again, cupping her face in his hands, she knew she’d been right. He was ready to try again, ready to be her husband and her lover.

He touched the silk of her dress with tender fingers, as if it was an extension of her flesh, and she felt it slip off her shoulder to pool on her lap, baring her breasts. He smiled as he looked at them. “So beautiful,” he murmured, touching one nipple with his thumb. Such a soft touch, but it was enough to send a thrill of pleasure coursing through Eirene like an electric shock. She shivered, grasped his hand and pressed it to her breast, letting him cup it.

“I love it when you touch me,” she whispered before they kissed, this time with more heat.

She unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, then pressed herself against him, bare chest to bare chest, feeling the silk of his dark hair against her breasts. Her breathing was becoming ragged as they embraced, fell back onto the bed. How she had missed this, missed his touch, so gentle and rough by turns, missed his deep, longing kisses, and the warm, musky scent of his desire.

They wriggled free of their clothing and Eirene lay back thighs spread wide, inviting him into her. He studied her and for a moment she wondered if perhaps he was not ready. But she looked downward to where his thick cock was rising from the dark curls between his legs and she knew he was not hesitating, but rather appreciating her body, taking in the sight of her open and wet and ready for him, hungry for him.

He touched her softly, spreading her lightly furred lips, and teased her clitoris with practiced fingers. She had reason to be grateful to the women who came before and taught him how to play a woman’s body like a fine instrument.

His fingers entered her. She surged up and gasped, and Simon laughed with such happiness that she thought perhaps they had passed the worst of it. And then he knelt between her legs and entered her slowly, carefully, filling her, spreading her open. As he moved inside her, she made little mewling noises of pleasure, a pleasure that grew and grew until she thought that there must be a release soon or she might die of it.

And then she felt it, the hot gush of his seed into her, and it was enough, too much, just the push she needed to explode into orgasm, crying out because the feelings were bursting out of her, not just the sexual release, but joy and adoration, and even faith in what the future held for them. She cried out “Simon!” and fell back onto the bed, gasping, legs locked around his waist. And Simon slumped down on top of her, his chest working like a bellows.

“Oh God,” he moaned, “that was… I’ve never…” He laid his hand on her face and turned her head so that he could look into her eyes. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me,” he whispered, still breathless.

Eirene wondered if you could die of happiness.

* * *

The wedding felt like a rebirth to Simon. Depression had been savage, stealing months of his life, forcing him to go through the motions without actually feeling anything. He learned how to do his job but did it without joy. He spent time with Eirene, and was grateful, but again, it was joyless. And it shouldn’t have been. Being with her should have been transcendent. She should have enriched his days and nights instead of simply keeping him anchored to life.

And Athena? He should have cared that she had been befriended by Kosta, but somehow it was impossible. He thought of the two of them together and felt nothing. He could not protect her beyond telling her, before she left for London after the funeral, that he had met Kosta and knew him to be unreliable. To her credit, she had said, “I’ll take that into account. Thank you.”

Perhaps she was growing up. The old Athena would have argued with him, challenged him, flouted Kosta and insisted that she would do whatever she wanted. Perhaps grief had matured her as well, or perhaps she was simply humoring Simon. Whichever it was, he found he couldn’t worry about it.

But once he began to feel better, to come out of his funk and live again, he found himself fretting about Athena. Could it really be that easy to put her off of Kosta? And what was Kosta’s intention? He’d heard nothing from the man since the day Kosta had arrived on Halithos with Athena. That was worrisome.

He decided he needed to talk to Athena. The holidays were approaching, and there would be time enough to sit down with her and find out if Kosta had tried to insinuate himself into her life. She hadn’t mentioned Kosta again, and Simon thought that was probably a good sign.

On the day she was to return, Simon and Eirene drove out to the airstrip to meet her plane. Simon was in good spirits and looking forward to the holidays, and to spending his first Christmas with Eirene, and going into a new year as a married man.

And then Athena stepped off the plane with Kosta.

Simon’s emotions, which were still unsettled, boiled up at the sight of his former business partner and he began to shout before they were down the steps.

“What the hell are you doing with my sister?” he yelled.

Athena looked horrified, Kosta’s face was unreadable. They stepped onto the tarmac and Simon grabbed Kosta by the lapels and shook him. “I told you to stay away from her!”

Athena caught hold of Simon’s arm. “Simon stop it!”

“Calm down, old man,” Kosta said, a ghost of a smile on his face. “I told you I’d respect Athena’s wishes, and she wished to see me.”

“Simon, please.”

“Athena I told you what kind of a man he is. What were you thinking?”

“That I love him!” she shouted at him, yanking him free of Kosta. “And that we’re married.”

Simon actually staggered backward, he was that stunned. “What?”

“We’re married.”

He stared at them as if he didn’t even recognize them. Then, quietly, he said, “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get off Halithos. You’re not welcome here.”

“Simon, this is my home,” Athena protested.

Eirene caught hold of his arm. “Simon!”

“It’s not your home. Not while you’re married to that man.”

“Simon, stop!” Eirene said. “Athena, let me talk to him.”

Athena had begun to cry and when Kosta put his arm around her, Simon nearly exploded again. But Eirene led him off, clutching his arm with fingers like steel bands.

“What is wrong with you?”

“That bastard. That lousy bastard, how dare he?” Simon muttered. “I’ll have him killed.”

“What are you talking about? Simon, this is insane! That’s your sister.”

“I told her. I said, that man is not to be trusted. She said she understood, and then she runs off and does this? What’s wrong with her?”

“With her? What’s wrong with you? How can you take such a dislike to a man you met once for five minutes?”

“I know him Eirene. I was in business with him. He’s a criminal.”

She went pale and Simon realized he’d said too much. “I mean… I think he’s a criminal.”

“No. You meant what you said. I could see it in your eyes, Simon. I always know when you’re lying. You’re going to explain yourself to me when we get home, but for now we have to deal with this.” She released her death grip on his arm. “You stay here. Don’t you dare move an inch. Promise me.”

He said nothing, looked away.

“I said, promise me, Simon.” It was spoken with such authority that he nodded, still unable to meet her gaze. She walked back to where Kosta was comforting Athena and spoke to them for a few moments. She said something to Kosta and he shook his head. But the next time she spoke to him, he nodded. Athena just stared up at him as if she had never seen him before.

They walked back up the steps and got on the plane. Eirene spoke to the attendant who nodded and followed them on board.

When she returned to the car, she said, “They’re going to Athens to wait until you and I have discussed this. I think Athena will have something to discuss with her husband as well. Get in the car.”

“Eirene—”

“Simon, I am simply in no mood. Please get in the car, or I will leave you standing here.” She climbed into the car and Simon saw no other option but to follow her.

The ride back to the house was silent, and time enough for Simon to berate himself for having let too much slip. He’d broken ties with Kosta when he fell in love with Eirene. He had hoped she’d never know what kind of a man he’d been before they met, that her low opinion of him had been just. And in a moment of uncontrolled anger, he’d blurted out everything. He tried to blame Athena, tried to blame Kosta, but in the end, he knew that what he’d done, he’d done to himself.

He was so ashamed.

Once they were back at the house and upstairs, Eirene said, “you must tell me the truth, Simon. What did you mean when you said that you were in business with Kosta? You knew him before your parents died?”

“Yes.”

“And you say he’s a criminal?”

“I said, I thought—”

“Simon, don’t lie to me. Don’t make this worse. What have you done?”

“It wasn’t anything, Eirene. Some contraband, that’s all.”

She studied his face. “That’s not all, is it?”

“Of course.”

“You’re lying to me. Simon, never play poker, you’re a terrible liar. What else?”

“Antiquities. I mean, I knew he was looking for them. He found a few and I arranged for him to show them to some friends. That’s all.” It sounded so lame, so deluded.

“That’s all,” she repeated. “You knew he was looting the cultural heritage of other countries for profit, and you say, “that’s all?” How can you be so blase?”

“They were nothing, Eirene. Just small things. Sometimes things that would have been destroyed by groups like the Taliban.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to profit off of them. I am so disappointed in you.”

Of all the things she could have said, all the possible recriminations, that had to be the worst. He loved her so dearly that to disappoint her was like a knife in his heart. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“What can I do about it?” he asked. The helpless feeling was back again.

“Go to the police.”

“You want me to go to prison?”

She just stared at him. “Do you think I want that? What I want is for you to clean up your mess, Simon. Be the man I thought I married.” She retrieved her nightgown. “I’m going to sleep in another room tonight. I need time to think.” She left him standing alone in their bedroom, his heart heavy with fresh grief.

* * *

Eirene didn’t know what to do. Ever since she’d met Simon, she’d been convinced that her initial impression of him had been wrong-headed, informed by gossip rags that painted him as an amoral, billionaire playboy. She’d been ashamed to have believed those things of a man who had treated her with such care and concern, and had berated herself for her ill-informed judgment.

But now it turned out to be worse than what she’d thought. It wasn’t the women, it wasn’t the wild parties that often brought police out. It wasn’t the conspicuous consumption and waste of money that could help others. It was that her husband was a criminal.

And the worst thing was that in her heart, she still loved him, deeply and passionately. She still longed for his touch, and wanted so badly to hold him and tell him that everything would be all right so long as they were together. That was her heart speaking.

Her head said that what he’d done was reprehensible. To loot other cultures of their treasures was not just a crime in the most objective sense, but it betrayed everything she believed in and respected. And he’d made excuses, had made it sound as if he’d been doing the world a favor.

Eirene lay down on the bed and wept. She cried herself to sleep, and the last thing she thought as she felt her consciousness ebb was that she couldn’t tell Simon that she was pregnant now. Until she knew what he planned to do to make things right, she had to keep her secret instead of offering it to him as his Christmas gift.

She had never felt more miserable in her life.

But the next morning, when she work, she felt as if she had somehow resolved her problem. Whatever else she felt about the things Simon had done, the bottom line was that he was her husband and she owed him her allegiance even if she couldn’t support his actions.

She got up and walked down to their bedroom, hoping to discuss the matter without a lot of drama. She’d make it clear that she still loved him, and that she believed the rest could be worked out. But the bed had not been slept in and there was no sign of Simon.

She went downstairs, but the house seemed empty. Maria was in the kitchen, making coffee.

“Maria, is Mr. Katsaros in the house?”

“I don’t believe so, ma’am,” she replied. I haven’t seen him at all today.”

“Thank you,” she said, even while thinking how odd it was to find him missing. “He probably went for a drive,” she said aloud. Sometimes she talked to herself, mostly when she was upset. It was a way to calm her fears. “He’ll be fine.”

But the day wore on and there was no sign of him. She’d tried his cell phone several times, but it went straight to voice mail. By lunchtime she was convinced he’d left the island, and she called the airstrip to find out if he’d flown out. It was that, or he’d taken one of the yachts.

“He flew out of here early this morning. About…” The manager checked the flight logs. “About seven-thirty. Bound for Athens.”

“Thank you.” She hung up and felt her stomach clench. Was he going to have it out with Kosta and Athena? She prayed that wasn’t it. Athena wouldn’t respond well to Simon’s anger, and Kosta? Now that she knew he was a criminal, she had begun to fear he might do Simon or Athena some harm.

As the hours slipped past, Eirene became more and more uneasy, and she tried phoning Athena, but like Simon’s phone, Athena’s went straight to voice mail.

Finally the house phone rang. Eirene raced to pick it up.

“Eirene, it’s me.” The sound of Simon’s voice made her weak with relief.

“Where have you been?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll be home in the morning and I’ll tell you all about it then, all right?”

“Simon are you safe?”

“I’m fine. I promise you.”

“I was so worried,” she breathed.

“I know, and I’m genuinely sorry. Things happened. I’ll tell you about it when I get there. I love you,” he said, and hung up.

* * *

Simon felt like a heel phoning Eirene like that and telling her almost nothing of what had happened since he left Halithos. But he was sitting in an interview room at a police station, waiting to confess what he’d done, and he knew she wouldn’t want to hear that. Angry as she’d been, Eirene wouldn’t have dealt well with the real world consequences of Simon’s actions. And his confession.

He was giving them Kosta. He hadn’t planned to. When he’d left Halithos that morning his plan was to go to the hotel where Athena and Kosta were staying, and get his sister to leave with him. He’d tell her the truth if he had to, but he was going to get her away from Kosta.

Only they weren’t there. They’d had a reservation, but a few hours after they’d checked into their suite, Mr. Petrakos had phoned down to the desk and asked for a rental car.

“What time was that?” Simon asked.

“Close to midnight, I believe,” the clerk had told him. “I didn’t take the call, I wasn’t on duty. But when I relieved the night clerk we laughed about how odd it was for newlyweds to check in and then go off in a rental car.”

“They both left?”

“I assumed so. I didn’t ask.”

Simon bribed the man to let him into their suite, hoping that perhaps Athena was still there, and sleeping. But there was no sign of her. Her bags were still in the suite though. One was lying open on the bed, clothing spilling out.

Worst of all there were several broken objects, a vase, a glass, and the phone had been torn free of its line and flung against the wall. When Simon saw the wreckage, it made him go cold inside. Kosta and Athena had had a fight. She threw things when she got mad. A fight, and then a midnight flight from the hotel. That was very, very bad, and it was what inspired Simon’s next stop. He went to the police.

He hadn’t wanted to confess his crimes, but now with Athena’s life at stake, he didn’t hesitate. He walked into the police station and announced his intentions. He’d thought it would be simple. He’d thought he’d tell them what he knew and they’d go out and find Kosta, and rescue Athena. But it was hours before anything much happened. His lawyer had told Simon not to say a word until he got there. The police didn’t seem to know who would be in charge of that sort of crime, and no one was doing anything about Kosta even though he could be murdering Athena for all anyone knew.

Finally Simon said, “He’s kidnapped my sister,” and had the satisfaction of watching the police force mobilize.

He knew Kosta had a place in Thessaloniki, and suggested that they look there. He’d rented a car, so he’d probably intended to drive some distance. Of course he could just as easily have driven south, intending to catch a boat that would take them across to Egypt, or headed west to catch passage to Turkey. Kosta had mentioned living in Istanbul and it was possible he still had ties there. He told all this to the police and begged them to get his sister back. “I’ll tell you everything,” he promised.

Finally, after hours of waiting, he was able to give a statement to the police. He fully expected to be locked up, but given his name and position, and the fact that nobody was quite certain what jurisdiction would be involved in prosecuting the crimes, the authorities let Simon’s lawyer talk them into letting him go.

“He couldn’t disappear if he wanted to. He’s too well known,” the man insisted.

They still wanted to do some paperwork, so they asked Simon to stay for a while longer and he’d agreed. When they left him alone in the interview room, he phoned Eirene, but didn’t have the heart to tell her the whole story. He knew she was angry with him, but he couldn’t pretend he’d had some kind of change of heart. He’d confessed because he saw no other way to ensure that Kosta would be brought to justice and separated from Athena.

He waited and waited, then pushed two chairs together, stretched out on them, and slept.

* * *

A little before six, they told him he could go. He thanked his lawyer who had stayed with him through the night and the on-again, off-again questioning, and was about to leave when one of the officers stopped him. “They’ve found her!” the young woman said.

“Is she all right?”

“She’s fine, apparently. They’re bringing her back now.”

He phoned Eirene again and explained that he had to stay until Athena arrived, only remembering after he told her that she didn’t know what had been happening. “I really will tell you everything when I get home,” he promised. “I’m sorry, I’m just very tired right now.”

Eirene arrived at the police station five minutes before Athena did. “I was tired of sitting at home waiting to hear what was happening,” she told Simon. “Worrying about you.” She reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair off his forehead. “Simon, I’m sorry I acted the way I did.”

“You were right,” he told her. The time he’d spent there had given him ample time to consider what he’d done. The sense of wrongdoing was still half-formed and he didn’t feel guilty, but he knew he’d made a mistake in willfully ignoring what Kosta was doing, in supporting it. He’d been wrong, he’d contributed to a crime, and he was willing to pay the price if it would make things right in his life, save his sister, and win back the love of his wife. “I shouldn’t have chosen that path. I didn’t need the money. I did it because it was easy to do.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“Partly. Mostly it was to find Athena. I don’t know what happened to her, but they tell me she’s safe—”

Just then the door opened and Athena entered. She was dirty and bruised-looking but seemingly unharmed.

“Simon… Eirene… I’m sorry.”

Simon hugged her. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” He felt her stiffen, then relax in his embrace.

Eirene asked, “What happened?”

“We argued. We got to the hotel and I asked him what was going on. We argued and he told me that if he was a criminal, you were too. That’s when it got ugly.”

Simon bit his lip. “It’s the truth, Athena. He was my business partner.”

Athena nodded. “I know.”

“So… what happened? Where did the police find you?”

“Korinos. I’d hitch-hiked down the E75. That bastard had tossed me in the trunk of his car, but he forgot there was a crowbar in there. I popped the lock, and managed to escape. He was headed toward Thessaloniki, and from there he said we were going to Turkey.”

Just as Simon had thought. With any luck the police would pick Kosta up before he left the country.

Once reunited with Athena, Simon was ready to take her and Eirene home. He was so tired. He’d been awake for two days, and that, and the stress of not knowing what had happened to his sister had finally caught up to him. On the way back to Halithos, he fell asleep, leaning against Eirene’s shoulder.

* * *

The police picked Kosta up just outside of Komotini, less than a hundred miles from the Turkish border. It didn’t surprise him. He knew that Simon would turn him in.

That had been a misstep. The old Simon would never have done it, he’d have covered his own ass and Kosta’s with it. But ever since Simon had fallen in love with the Dimitrios girl, he’d changed, had become a better man, to Kosta’s eventual loss.

Athena had been a misstep too, a monumental one. If Kosta had stayed away from her, he’d be a free man now. And yet he couldn’t say he regretted marrying her. Athena was the brightest, funniest woman he’d ever known. She had a delicious temper, a wicked sense of mischief, and the sex? Astoundingly hot.

The crazy thing was that Kosta could have made her his mistress, could have carried on an affair with her for months, maybe for years without Simon ever knowing, but he got greedy and sloppy, and wanted to press his advantage.

No. That wasn’t true, or at least not wholly true. He liked the idea of marrying Athena. Though he resisted the idea, there was a part of him that knew he’d married her because he’d fallen in love with her. Not that he’d ever have admitted it to anyone, even Athena. And maybe that was one of his great regrets in all this, that he’d never said “I love you,” to her, no matter how many times she’d said it to him.

The trunk thing… that was an easy out for both of them. He’d provoked the argument, said things that weren’t very nice, and when she reacted as he knew she would, he’d dragged her out to the rental car and tossed her in the trunk. He knew there was a crowbar in there because he’d put it in there before they left the hotel. He also knew how to fix the latch so it wouldn’t catch properly. It would keep the trunk closed, but not locked securely. If Athena had half a brain, she’d get out easily. In fact it surprised him that it took as long as it did. He finally had to stop and walk away from the car in hope that she’d take the opportunity to escape.

So she probably hated him now, and that was just as well since he was going to spend some time in prison. Well it couldn’t be helped. He’d fucked up. What surprised him was that Athena came to visit him while he was in jail.

“Hello you jerk.”

“Nice way to talk to your husband.”

“I’m going to fix that.”

“Good. It was a stupid thing to do. I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he told her. God but he wanted her.

“Why did you marry me, Kosta? Was it the money?”

“Of course!”

She stared at him. “You broke my heart.”

“Oh come on, Athena, it wasn’t love for either of us, not really,” he lied. If she believed that, severing all ties would be simpler for her.

“It was. For me.”

“No, it was an adventure, and you wanted to stick it to your brother.”

Athena’s jaw set in that lovely, stubborn way Kosta had come to cherish. She was annoyed with him, but he was willing to bet that any moment she’d see the humor in what he’d said and… yes, there it was, the ghost of a smile. “You’re a shit.”

“Count on it. We had a good time though, yes?”

“Yes, she replied grudgingly.”

“Good sex,” he said, voice pitched low.

The smile betrayed her. “Yes,” she admitted. “Very good.”

“Well then.”

“You shouldn’t have put me in that trunk.”

“I made sure you could get out. Do you think rental cars come with crowbars?”

She stared at him in surprise then laughed out loud. “You absolute shit.”

“I would never have hurt you, Athena. I just wanted to get out of the country before you raised the alarm. I never expected your brother to do it for you.”

Athena shook her head. “I don’t know why, but you still get to me.”

“Same here,” he told her just before the guard hustled him back to his cell.

He was going to miss that woman.

* * *

Christmas was a bit late that year. Between the legal issues and the upheaval in the family and business, holiday spirit got put on hold. Not long after Simon made his confession and turned Kosta in, he was asked to resign as CEO of Katsaros Corp.

“The thing is,” the Chairman of the Board said as he spoke to Simon on the phone, “We can’t be seen to have a felon in charge of the company.”

“I’ve been working on a formal resignation,” Simon assured him. “It will be in your hands by the end of the week.”

“You’ll retain your seat on the Board, of course. That’s a given.”

“We’ll see.” Simon wasn’t at all sure he wanted to deal with corporate issues. Athena, on the other hand… She’d be good as a board member and even, eventually, CEO. She had that kind of brain.

As for himself, Simon had begun to think longingly of Eirene’s plan to travel the world. It would be a good thing to travel with a purpose, to see what was what, instead of the aimless movement he’d been guilty of for much of his life. Maybe it was time to connect with life. Since he already knew that his confession and the information he’d given the authorities would keep him from doing prison time — though he was going to be paying some stiff fines — he could make some plans for the future.

When he told Eirene that he was resigning, he expected her to be disappointed, and tried to cushion the news by saying, “I thought you and I might spend some time traveling. I’m hoping you’ll show me the world through your eyes. I need to see it clearly.”

Oddly, she smiled at him. “That would be lovely. But we’re going to have to do some planning.”

“Why not just go?” he asked. He caught hold of her and danced her around the room. “Let’s be footloose! Let’s travel the Silk Road, trek in the Himalayas, do photo safaris in Africa!”

Eirene squeaked with laughter. “I want all those things too, but we have to be realistic.”

“Why?”

“Because parents need to be responsible.”

It took him a moment to understand what she was saying to him. “Parents? We’re going to be parents?”

She nodded. He squeezed her tight and she squeaked again.

“How? When? I—”

“Darling I think you know the how part,” she told him as she disengaged from his grip. “The when is in about six-and-a-half months.”

Simon was overwhelmed by emotions that he could barely put names to. There was joy, of course, but a terrible fear that he wasn’t worthy and that he wouldn’t do a good job of being a father. There was a sense of having a job to do, a job so important that it made being a CEO look like nothing. It was possibly the most important job in the world… next to Eirene’s, of course.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“That you’re happy?”

“I couldn’t be happier. Oh my darling Eirene, I couldn’t be happier if someone handed me the world tied up with a ribbon. It feels like that’s what you’ve just done. I hope I’m worthy.”

“You are.”

“One trip I want to make before the baby comes,” he told her. “I want to go to Cape Soúnion, to the temple there.”

“Poseidon’s temple?”

He nodded. “I’ve always felt a pull to that spot,” he explained. “So, I think it’s time to take my family there and introduce them to Poseidon.”

Eirene didn’t respond immediately and Simon was worried that he’d upset or offended her. “Eirene?”

She looked up, and there was something in her eyes that made him feel as if she was his home. “You are the most remarkable man I’ve ever known,” she told him. “I’ll get my coat.”

Simon watched her climb the stairs, his heart more full than he had ever thought possible. How had he been so fortunate? How had a foolish wastrel like himself become a decent man?

There were no real answers, he supposed, so no reason to search too hard. For now, it was enough to thank the universe for his good fortune, and promise to be a better man with every opportunity he was given.

Before they left, Simon went down to the wine cellar and snagged a bottle of champagne to share with the sea.

The End