As Greek as It Gets: A fun, feel-good romantic comedy

by Sue Roberts

  ‘Maybe, oh gosh, I never even considered that. But try not to worry. Molly has found replacement caterers. We just have to go and meet them tomorrow evening.’

  ‘Why didn’t Molly tell me about this? And what if they’re not up to the job? Not many catering companies would be available to help out at short notice.’ Max drums his fingers on the kitchen table.

  I tell him all about the couple who run the café, and that they have already received some great customer reviews, and his shoulders seem to relax a little.

  ‘Molly’s the wedding planner, isn’t she? It’s her job to smooth things over, remember. Maybe she thought she was doing you a favour by trying to come up with a solution first.’

  Max is silent for a few moments before finally leaving the table and going to phone Molly in the other room. I can hear him asking her numerous questions before he hangs up and returns to the kitchen.

  ‘Well, they sound alright, I suppose.’ He runs his fingers through his hair before he picks up his glass and takes a long swig of red wine. Max is not used to things being outside his control and, for the first time in a long while, he looks stressed. He wastes no time in checking out customer reviews about the café on the Internet, before eventually conceding that they might be up to the job.

  ‘Better than being struck down with food poisoning, hey? Silver linings and all that,’ I say, trying to lighten the mood, but Max but isn’t smiling.

  ‘They do sound good, I suppose, but you should still have told me straight away,’ Max replies tersely.

  ‘You paid the original caterers upfront, didn’t you? Will we lose the money?’ I ask hesitantly.

  ‘No, just a large deposit. It’s probably going to be hard to get anything back if the company has gone into liquidation though. Or at least it will take a long time to recover any money.’ Suddenly Max softens a little and pulls me to him in a hug. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s only the food after all. Everything else is going to plan, fingers crossed anyway. If we lose a few grand it’s just bad luck. I’m not going to let it ruin our special day.’

  ‘It’s still a lot of money, though. You don’t have to go far in this city to find people sleeping on the streets… if we’d kept our wedding smaller, it wouldn’t have been such a big loss.’ I hadn’t intended to add to the stress of the situation, but I couldn’t help myself.

  ‘I know what you’re saying, but I’m not careless with money, Alice. I just enjoy nice things in life. Is there anything wrong in wanting the best catering for our wedding? But what’s happened has happened and I don’t see the point in crying over spilt milk, that’s all. Everything will be alright.’

  Which is absolutely true of Max. He’s the type of person who sucks things up, moves on and makes the best of a bad situation.

  ‘I know. I’m sorry, Max. No one could have predicted that this was going to happen.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry.’ Max plants a kiss on my cheek. ‘And, anyway, everything happens for a reason. Maybe these new caterers will blow the other ones out of the water. Actually… hasn’t your mum invited us round for dinner tomorrow evening?’

  ‘I know, I’ve already cancelled. I said something about you having a late appointment. Sorry. I just didn’t want her going on about the catering, you know what she’s like.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. Let’s clear these things away, then you can show me your holiday pictures. I’m surprised you haven’t uploaded them to Facebook already.’

  ‘I haven’t really had time. Okay, I’ll make some coffee to take through to the lounge.’

  I think about Max’s comment ‘everything happens for a reason’ and even though I agree, I decide that maybe now is not the time to discuss the beautiful wedding garden I stumbled across on holiday. I’ve resolved that I’m going to become more active in looking for a venue to start up a gallery, but the time has passed for speaking up about my reservations on the direction of our wedding.

  As I flick through the pictures of Crete, Max begins to relax a little as he reminisces about the proposal at the restaurant with the wonderful view. We laugh together as he reminds me of the waitress hiding behind a tree with a bottle of champagne until she heard me say ‘yes’. We’re snuggled up on the couch together and Max is gently stroking my hair. He can hardly believe it when he sees the photo of me dancing with the waiters at the Greek restaurant and laughs heartily, asking me how many ouzos I’d had.

  ‘We should go back to Greece.’ Max is smiling fondly as we look through the pictures together. ‘We could hire a car and explore the island. In fact, when we’re millionaires, I wouldn’t mind buying a little holiday home in Greece.’

  I think of summers spent in the sunshine and waves lapping at my feet as I set up an easel and paint.

  ‘Would you really buy a place in Greece?

  ‘No, I’m only joking. It’s not warm enough in the winter, so we couldn’t escape for some sunshine when it’s freezing cold here. Plus, there are hardly any direct flights over the winter.’

  ‘So you’ve already checked this out?’

  Max shrugs. ‘When we came back from holiday, I looked up the winter temperatures and the flights. Maybe I just wanted to go back, still feeling high from the holiday. There are some real bargains to be had on houses over there, though, especially the ones in the villages.’

  I think Max would probably be arranging to view properties this very minute, had I appeared enthusiastic about the idea of buying a holiday home. I decide to shelve the idea of telling Max all about the wedding garden in Crete, as we’re having such a lovely evening.

  As I sit here snuggled up next to Max, I recall him telling me not to be nervous about the ceremony and maybe he’s right. He will be right there beside me, after all. And maybe that’s all that really matters.

  Eighteen

  Joe and Sarah look to be a similar age to us, when they greet us warmly the following evening as we walk into their cosy café on Hardman Street. Entering through the open glass doorway, I’m wrapped in a comforting hug by Sarah, a pretty, petite blonde who is clearly a toucher. The faint smell of cinnamon reaches my nostrils and I mention this to Sarah, who tells me they have been baking cinnamon-dusted doughnuts and offers me one to try.

  Having seated us at a wooden table, with a coffee and one of the delicious doughnuts each, Sarah explains that the café is open for breakfast and lunch but, until they can find some larger premises, they aren’t offering evening meals yet. I’m so impressed by their ambition. If this delicious doughnut is anything to go by, then I think Max and I will definitely be booking a table for dinner in the future.

  ‘You’ve made this place really welcoming,’ I say, glancing around the café and admiring how they have made use of every available space, with chunky wooden tables, ladder bookshelves and small vintage cupboards tucked in the corners, creating a very homely feel.

  ‘So, I’ve had a look at the menu and that’s all absolutely fine,’ Sarah says, pushing her blonde, shoulder-length hair behind her ears. ‘We’ve both worked in busy hotel kitchens so there’s not much that we haven’t cooked. We’ve done chicken ballotine many times, and meringues happen to be my speciality, so a berry pavlova is a great choice.’

  ‘Although Sarah’s sticky toffee pudding is to die for,’ Joe states proudly. He is tall and dark-haired with a small beard. He’s wearing round glasses and a Fair Isle patterned jumper, and reminds me more of a librarian than a chef.

  ‘Mmm, my favourite. But maybe a little heavy for a summer wedding,’ I suggest.

  Sarah agrees and says she thinks a pavlova will be perfect. We also ask for sharing cheeseboards on the tables, and even with the addition of these, the price still comes in very reasonably.

  Max has a spring in his step as we head to the train station for the journey home.

  ‘They were a really nice couple, weren’t they?’ he says happily. ‘And it felt a bit more bespoke than that big catering firm. It’s nice to have a personal touch.’

  ‘I kn
ow.’ I link my arm through his, feeling relieved that the catering ‘crisis’ has been sorted.

  Later the same evening, I go upstairs and decide to put some finishing touches to the painting of the blue-domed building in Santorini. As my brush sweeps across the canvas, my thoughts return yet again to the evening in the room with Vangelis, and of course to the kiss at the bus stop and the feelings it evoked in me.

  What was I thinking?

  I’d like to say it was all down to a cocktail of sunshine and holiday spirits, but it was more than that. My talk with Ria made me feel slightly better about it, but I know that, when Vangelis whispered in my ear ‘another time, another place’, for a brief second I wished it was the right time and the right place, and confusion pulled at my heart.

  If I close my eyes, I can still feel Vangelis’s lips on mine as we shared that lingering kiss and I feel sick inside. Surely another person shouldn’t have that effect on you when you are about to get married? If he had made a move on me that night at the hotel, would I definitely have been able to resist him? Am I really ready to marry when I can experience feelings like that towards another man?

  Deep inside, I know I have to tell Max. I don’t think we should have any secrets between us before we marry. Plus, there’s Molly. She could mention that evening to Max somewhere in the future, if she chose to, which could well cause trouble between us and I’m not sure I could risk that.

  Just after ten o’clock, when Max calls up the stairs to ask if I would like a coffee, I say yes, then put my painting things away and go downstairs to join him.

  I follow him into the kitchen, then we take our mugs into the lounge.

  As we finish our coffees, Max turns to face me. ‘Alice, is everything alright?’ He has a slight look of concern on his face.

  ‘What? Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?’ I hope Max can’t see the guilt written all over my face.

  ‘I’m not sure. It’s just that ever since you’ve been back home, you’ve been… well, a bit distracted somehow. I just wondered if there was anything on your mind?’ He looks at me with an expression of concern on his face.

  I guess when you know someone so well you can tell when something isn’t right. I can sense what kind of mood Max will be in as soon as he puts his key in the door. It’s almost like a sixth sense. I’m not sure why I thought I could hide things from him, as I appear to have spent half my time in a daydream since I arrived home. Although I haven’t just been thinking about that evening at the hotel, I’ve also been thinking about the wedding.

  We’re settled in bed but I can’t stop thinking about what Max has asked me so decide it’s time to get things off my chest.

  ‘Max, I need to tell you something,’ I say, sitting up and switching on my cream bedside lamp. My heart is beating fast but there’s no going back now.

  ‘I knew there was something on your mind. What’s going on?’ His handsome face is smiling and I am filled with feelings of guilt but I press on.

  I tell Max the whole story of me spending the night at the hotel with Vangelis and he listens wordlessly. I try to keep it as light-hearted as possible, although looking at Max I can see the hurt mixed with anger in his eyes, and this prevents me from telling him about the kiss as well.

  ‘You spent the evening with another man?’ He takes a swig of water from a bottle on his bedside table.

  ‘No… well, yes, I did… half the night, I suppose, but we were just talking. Max, you need to know that nothing happened, yet I still feel like you should know.’ As Max looks at me with confusion in his eyes, I wish I’d never said a thing.

  ‘If you were just talking, then why bother telling me? Are you trying to ease your conscience in some way? Is there something you’re not telling me?’

  I can feel heat rising in my chest as I realise Max might not believe me, that he can tell I’m holding something back.

  ‘I’m just trying to get my head around the fact that you weren’t with your friends,’ he continues. ‘Why would you go home early from your own hen party?’ He’s staring at me with a frown on his face and a wounded look in his eyes that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

  ‘I know it sounds a bit lame, but I was really tired. We’d been out for the day and I fancied a bit of an early night, and it was almost midnight.’

  ‘So you go back to the hotel and go to another man’s room, even though you’re feeling exhausted?’ Max pauses, then shakes his head.

  I realise how bad it must sound. Was it selfish of me to tell Max just to assuage my guilt, although the real guilt is over the kiss, which I don’t think I can bring myself to tell him about, though I know I should.

  Max is sitting upright in bed now and biting the edge of his thumbnail, which is something he does when he is mulling something over. ‘So, are you sure nothing happened between the two of you?’ he asks doubtfully.

  I hesitate before I answer. ‘No, Max. I’ve told you we were just talking.’

  ‘What were you talking about for four hours?’

  ‘Just stuff, families and so on. I told him about our wedding. It was stuffy in the bar, so he just asked if I would like to see the view from his balcony.’

  ‘That’s an original line.’

  The more I talk, the worse it sounds, and I’m so sorry to have hurt Max. I go to grasp his hand but he pulls it away from me sharply.

  ‘So, you’re telling me that absolutely nothing happened between you?’

  I think of the soft, yet exciting kiss at the bus stop, and for a moment I am rendered speechless and unable to answer Max’s question. He is staring at me as my cheeks flush red and I don’t know what to do next. ‘There was a brief kiss,’ I whisper now, unable to look him in the eyes.

  Max suddenly swings his legs over the side of the bed and pulls on a pair of joggers, before dragging a T-shirt over his head.

  ‘Max, where are you going?’

  ‘Downstairs. I need to clear my head. I’m just wondering why you’re telling me all this. Are you having doubts about the wedding or something? Or just feeling guilty that you had one last fling? Jesus, how would you feel if I told you I had spent the night in Rachel’s room after the race night?’

  I feel sick at the very thought. ‘Rachel? As in your ex? Well, that would be a bit different, wouldn’t it? And why does that example jump to your mind?’ Blood is pumping through my veins as I try to keep my tone even. ‘And you could have done for all I know; I was thousands of miles away when you went on that race night.’

  Max is heading for the bedroom door when he swings round to face me. ‘Do you seriously think that? And why are you making this about me all of a sudden? I’m not the one who’s just confessed to spending the night with someone else “thousands of miles away” and kissing them. If it was just a kiss.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that, Max. The kiss was just a friendly one.’ I feel awful lying, but I’ve hurt Max enough already.

  I realise that with every word I seem to be making things worse and I bitterly regret having been so selfish as to say anything to Max in the first place. I had a physical attraction towards another man, but that was all. It happens in life. As Ria says, you can’t go through life not finding other people attractive; it just becomes a problem if you act upon your feelings. I love Max with all my heart and regret having hurt him like this.

  Max heads downstairs and I jump out of bed, grab a robe from the back of the bedroom door and follow him down to the lounge. He sits down on the sofa and, looking at his face, I see that it’s etched with concern and not at all like the smiling, loving Max I normally see.

  I sit on the floor by his feet. ‘Max, you have to trust me. I don’t want any secrets between us, which is why it was eating away at me and I had to tell you. But it’s nothing worth us falling out over.’

  ‘I want to trust you, Alice, but it’s hard for me. I need to know about that friendly kiss. When you say “friendly”, did he kiss you on the lips? Did you kiss him back?’

  I�
��m not sure I can bear the hurt in his eyes, yet despite myself I tell Max that yes, I kissed him back. I explain it as a moment of sheer madness, yet deep inside I remember the feelings of confusion it stirred in me.

  Max exhales deeply. ‘Wow. Considering you were the one that didn’t want a hen party in the first place, you certainly seem to have enjoyed yourself. Can I ask you, were you drunk when you accepted the invitation to the guy’s room?’

  ‘No, I’d had a few cocktails in town but I wasn’t drunk.’

  ‘Somehow that makes it even worse. We’ve all done daft things under the influence of alcohol, but you’re telling me you weren’t even drunk.’ Max pushes up from the sofa and begins to pace the room.

  ‘Is that right?’

  I take a seat at the corner of the long sofa. Part of me feels like running away and finding a secluded beach, sinking down into the sand and forgetting about the whole world. But I guess everyone has times when they feel like that. I do know how lucky I am, there’s no doubt about that. And I love Max and I’m sorry I’ve hurt him like this. Not for the first time, I wish I’d insisted on a hotel spa break, then I wouldn’t have run into any hunky Greek men. Although, is that saying that I am unable to resist temptation?

  ‘So what now then?’ I ask Max, feeling drained.

  ‘I’m not sure, but I need to get some sleep. I’ve got an early appointment in the morning.’ Max drains his drink then heads off to bed without saying good night, and the tears that I have been holding back fall freely down my face as I ask myself, What on earth have I just done?

  Nineteen

  After a fitful sleep, I wake in the morning to find Max has already left for work without saying goodbye. I glance at the empty bedside table beside me, which usually has a morning coffee there, brought up by Max. I head to the en suite to shower and, as the water cascades over my body, I’m filled with a sudden feeling of dread. Surely the conversation we had last night won’t affect our wedding plans? I’m terrified at the thought, yet at the same time feel strangely in control of my emotions. Perhaps it’s now time to step back and review all the wedding day plans.