by Holly Rayner
Dimitris searched his mind, trying to figure out what blemish Stavros was referring to.
“What, you mean how I was kicked out of the military?” he asked after a brief pause.
“Exactly,” Stavros said. “I’m sorry, Dimitris.”
Dimitris stood up. “I was just a kid—nineteen—when I got kicked out of the service,” he said. “That was seventeen years ago, and I didn’t even do anything that bad. They can’t seriously hold that against me!”
“They can, and they will,” Stavros said.
Dimitris rubbed a hand over his brow, and then down over his eyes. After all he’d done to secure the deal with the US government, he couldn’t believe that a blemish on his record was going to cause the whole thing to fall through.
His mind turned to his brief stint in the Greek military. Even at that young age, he’d had a problem with being told what to do. It was a quality that served him well as the CEO of his company, but as a teenager it had gotten him into trouble. At age nineteen, during his mandatory stint of military service, he’d talked back to a few higher-ups. That had earned him time on probation, which he’d violated by getting into a scuffle with a bully in the cafeteria.
He rubbed his forehead again, thinking about how minor his infractions were. “This is ridiculous,” he said into the phone. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
He lowered his hand and began pacing across the room. A set of thick navy blue curtains were drawn across the windows. He pulled them open, and bright daylight streamed into the hotel room.
A glance at the clock informed him that it was already mid-morning. He’d slept in, thanks to his late night out with Eva. He had a big day ahead, but all of the tasks were related to the deal that he’d assumed was going to go through.
No, he thought. I can’t give up just because of some ridiculous infringement in my past.
“There has to be a work-around,” he said to Stavros. “Some kind of solution. I can’t accept this.”
“You have to,” Stavros said. “I’m sorry, Dimitris. I know how much this contract means to you. I’ve been making calls all morning, trying to come up with a course of action, but everyone’s telling me the same thing. You’re out of luck. Apparently, the US is very strict about its international business arrangements. Nothing short of becoming an American citizen will do. It’s time to move on.”
Dimitris turned away from the window. He felt frustrated and upset. Was it really time to give up on the deal?
“Thanks, Stavros,” he said quietly. “I know you’ve been working hard on this today. I appreciate your efforts.”
When he hung up the phone, he sat down on the edge of the bed again and placed his head in his hands.
If Stavros says it’s over, he thought glumly, then it’s probably over.
Stavros Pappas was the smartest man Dimitris knew. Dimitris had started his business at the age of twenty-six, and he’d leaned on Stavros for legal advice at every twist and turn along the tumultuous journey. Never once had Stavros steered him wrong. If Stavros thought that Dimitris’s past with the military was going to cause him to fail the security clearance, then Dimitris was sure that was right.
He just didn’t like it.
What am I going to do? he wondered as he raked his hands through his hair.
Chapter 4
Eva
“And then, just as the cab pulled up, he leaned down and kissed me,” Eva said.
Nikki gasped.
Eva smiled dreamily. She’d just told Nikki the entire story of her night with Dimitris, in detail, as the two rolled silverware in an empty booth. It was only six a.m., and the restaurant wouldn’t open for another hour.
“It was the best kiss of my life,” Eva said with a sigh as she reached for a silver knife from the bin in front of them. She placed it on a red napkin, along with a spoon and fork, and started to roll the whole bundle up.
“Of course it was,” Nikki said. “That guy was probably the best-looking guy I’ve ever laid eyes on. Don’t tell Clint I said that.” She laughed. “Seriously, though, good for you for not running away like you usually do. I know you have trouble trusting men, thanks to your dad.”
Eva felt her lips tighten into a thin line. She loved Nikki, but sometimes begrudged the relationship advice that her friend tended to throw around.
As Eva’s best friend, Nikki was the only person in DC—and in the new life she’d built for herself—who knew about her past in its entirety. It seemed to Eva that sometimes Nikki was a little bit too comfortable tossing around pop psychology with regards to how Eva’s past had affected her.
Nikki seemed to pick up on Eva’s distaste for the turn the conversation had taken. She lightened her tone and said breezily, “Anyway, I’m so excited that you kissed. I mean, I saw the sparks flying between you two during the show, obviously. I just love that you went out with a tourist guy that you just barely met!” Silverware clanked around inside the napkin she was rolling. She put the bundle onto a stack, and then reached for a red napkin from another stack. “A super-hot, drop-dead-gorgeous tourist, granted, but still—a tourist.”
“I actually think he’s here in DC on business,” Eva said. “I got the impression that he’s the owner of a pretty successful company. And he was throwing around cash like there was no tomorrow. He paid for dinner, drinks, and my cab. He left a mega tip, too.”
“Gotta love those big tippers!” Nikki said. “What does his company do?”
“He mentioned it a few times…” Eva said. “Something to do with rockets, I think. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “The name of the company had his last name in it—Atheos.”
Nikki whipped out her phone. “Dimitris Atheos,” she said aloud as she typed. “You think that’s ‘e-o-s’ or ‘i-o-s’? Never mind, here it is—popped right up, with his picture—it’s ‘e-o-s,’ in case you’re wondering.” She started scrolling through information on her phone, and she went silent for a moment.
Eva stacked up silverware in a neat pile on the napkin in front of her: knife, fork, spoon. Then she rolled the whole bundle up tightly and placed it on the stack with the rest. She reached for another napkin, but Nikki stopped her by grabbing her forearm.
“Holy smokes, Eva, you’ve got to see this! Do you know who you went out on a date with last night?”
“Um… I just told you. Dimitris Atheos,” Eva said, wondering what her friend was getting at.
Nikki released Eva’s hand and put the phone down on the table. Her eyes were wide. “You went out with one of the wealthiest, most eligible bachelors in Europe! The guy’s a freaking billionaire!”
Eva’s jaw dropped. She’d suspected that Dimitris was wealthy, but a billionaire?
She leaned over the table and peered into Nikki’s phone screen. Sure enough, there was a headshot of Dimitris along with an estimate of his net worth. There were so many zeros in the number, it made her head spin.
“Wow…” Eva said. “I had no idea he was that rich. No wonder he had no problem paying for my cab home.”
Nikki’s eyes were wide. “You have got to see him again!”
Eva shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Last night was a one-time thing.”
“But you said that it was the best kiss of your life! And he’s a billionaire! Plus, you two had chemistry with a capital ‘C.’”
Eva felt her pulse quicken. She had to admit, she did want to see Dimitris again. At the same time, though, she knew that was a foolish desire. What good would it do her to fall for a man who lived in Greece? Dimitris was going to leave DC soon, and then she’d never see him again. A second date would only make that parting worse.
She reached for the mug of coffee that she’d poured herself from the server station, right when she arrived. One of the few perks of working for the Red Door Grille was free coffee during morning shifts.
She sipped her drink thoughtfully, and then shook her head again as she set it down. “It doesn’t make sense to see him again,” she said
. “He’s just visiting. Last night was just a date. Two people, enjoying each other’s company. It wasn’t meant to go anywhere.”
“Okay, then, how about this,” Nikki said, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on the booth table. Her eyes were burning with excitement, as if she was about to share the best idea ever. “You know how you’re always talking about how you want to start up your own art gallery, but you need investors to back you?”
“Yeah,” Eva said.
“Well… You could talk to Dimitris about investing in you. You know, give him a rundown of your plans, and tell him why it would be a good investment. The guy is loaded, so spending a few thousand bucks is probably no big deal.”
Eva couldn’t help but glance down at Nikki’s phone on the booth table. It still showed Dimitris’s photograph, and she found herself looking at his dark, smoldering eyes. She bit her lip as she tried to imagine approaching him for money.
“I don’t know,” she said. “We had a really fun night. I wouldn’t want to ruin it by awkwardly asking him for money.”
“Who said anything about awkward?” Nikki said. “You’ve got to drop that attitude if you’re going to get anywhere with your gallery idea. Stop being so cautious and just go for it.” She paused, waiting for Eva to agree.
Eva stayed quiet, so Nikki egged her on some more. “Come on. You think you’re going to make enough money to open your gallery by working here?”
Eva looked around the restaurant. The dark, wood-panel walls sucked up all of the daylight that managed to sneak in from outside. Bright red booths and mustard-colored tables crowded into the space, and a wall of televisions that played silently behind the bar area often caught her eye and made her cringe. She wasn’t wild about watching sports to begin with, and watching seven games simultaneously on mute annoyed her each time she came to work.
Her manager was a young kid in his twenties, who’d come into the job thanks to a family connection. He was famous for failing to put out the weekly schedule until the day before the week started, which made it almost impossible to make any plans or have a social life.
“I barely make enough here to pay for rent and food,” Eva said, without meeting Nikki’s eye. “I’ve run the numbers, you know.” She glanced up at her friend.
Nikki nodded with encouragement. “And?”
“I need sixty grand to get out of the debt I built up after I left New York, and I need another sixty thousand to open a new gallery.”
“Great!” Nikki said. “That’s a start. You know what you need.”
Eva felt herself starting to get excited. Sometimes, Nikki’s enthusiasm was contagious.
Just then, the young manager walked by. He was lean and boyish, with a blond crew cut. He knocked twice on the table as he passed.
“Good morning, girls,” he said. “We’re opening in fifteen minutes. Nikki, don’t forget to fill the ketchup bottles. It’s Friday, you know.” He eyed the mugs of coffee. “Oh—I’ve been meaning to tell you. I changed our drinks policy. Each employee is allowed one drink per shift. No more unlimited coffee! Thanks for your cooperation.” He knocked on the table twice more, and then bustled away.
There goes the one perk of working here, Eva thought dully.
Nikki rolled her eyes as she took a dramatic slurp of her drink. Once she swallowed, she said. “The nerve of him, calling us ‘girls.’ I’m probably ten years older than he is.”
“You know what?” Eva said. “Maybe I will practice my pitch on Dimitris. If I’m really going to go after my dream of opening a gallery, I’m going to need investors. And the only way I’m going to get them to invest is if I ask. I have to start somewhere.”
“Yay!” said Nikki, immediately cheering up again. “I knew you’d come around. Okay—so did he give you his number?”
Eva shook her head. “Nope, and I didn’t give him mine. I think we both assumed that our evening together was just a one-time thing. But he did mention that he was going to an opening at the Cutler Gallery tonight.”
“The Cutler Gallery,” Nikki repeated. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“My friend Tahj Cutler owns it,” Eva said. “We’ve been there before—I had a few paintings on display there a couple springs ago.”
“Ah yes, the bird paintings and the one with the fox,” Nikki said with a nod. “The openings there are pretty exclusive, right? Oh, what am I saying… Tahj loves you. He’d let you in in a heartbeat.”
Eva was sure that was true, but she had another thought in mind.
“That would be too obvious,” she said. “When Dimitris mentioned the gallery opening, I didn’t say that I had plans to go. It would be too weird if I just showed up there out of the blue. But he did say that he had dinner reservations beforehand…” She trailed off, trying to formulate a plan.
Nikki slurped her coffee as she waited for Eva to continue.
After a moment, Eva said, “I think he said his reservations were for six, but did he mention the restaurant name? No, I don’t think so.”
“That won’t be too hard to figure out,” Nikki said. “If he said it’s on the same block as the Cutler Gallery, there are a limited number of places he could go.”
The manager breezed by again. As he walked, he said, “How are those ketchup bottles coming along? I hate to interrupt your gabfest, but it looks like you’re done with the silverware.”
Nikki gave him a thumbs-up. “Yep! Onto ketchup bottles!” she said, her voice high with false cheerfulness.
The two slid out of the booth. Nikki picked up the tray of rolled silverware in one hand, and her coffee in the other. “Since this is my only drink of the day, I’m going to savor it,” she said sarcastically.
Eva picked up the now-empty silverware bin, as well as her drink. “I’m going to make some calls and figure out where Dimitris has reservations tonight.”
“Yay! Exciting,” Nikki said happily. “Keep me updated, okay?”
Eva made her way to the hostess podium, feeling grateful for her friend. If it wasn’t for Nikki’s friendship, there was no way she would have lasted for six years at The Red Door Grille.
Once the restaurant’s doors opened, a steady stream of tourists, government workers, and college students filtered in. Between seating them, Eva called around to a few contacts she had. The staff turnover rate at The Red Door Grille was high, and over the years she’d gotten to know at least a dozen people who’d gone on to other positions in the restaurant industry.
After making about ten calls, she finally hit on some valuable information.
Her friend Cal, who had been a waiter at The Red Door Grille back when Eva first started, was now holding down a position at a fancy French restaurant on the far end of Penn Quarter.
Chez Bazin was one of those establishments that barely registered on Eva’s radar because it was way too upscale for her. She knew she’d barely be able to afford a side salad at the place, let alone a meal and a glass of wine. She could picture it vaguely—violin music floating through a few outdoor speakers, a dark green awning, and gold-trimmed doors.
And, Cal informed her, one Dimitris Atheos had a reservation there that evening.
Eva had butterflies in her stomach as she walked home, and they didn’t let up for the next few hours, as she worked on preparing herself for seeing Dimitris again. She suspected that she wasn’t only excited about finally taking a concrete step toward realizing her dream of opening a new art gallery; the bubbly feeling of excitement and anticipation was also related to the fact that she wanted to look into Dimitris’s dark, espresso-brown eyes again.
Will we kiss again? she wondered as she pulled several dresses from her closet.
The question stayed in her mind as she donned a simple black cocktail number, ballet flats, and a heart-shaped gold locket. Though it had been a while since she’d worn makeup, she swiped some shimmery beige eyeshadow over her lids, and then applied lip gloss. After trying a few hairstyles, she finally decided to leave her locks down.
She’d planned to arrive at the restaurant at seven, figuring that would give her more than enough time before Dimitris emerged from the gold-trimmed doors. As she walked up to the fancy establishment, going through her plan over and over in her mind, she looked around for an appropriate place to position herself—she wanted to bump into Dimitris as if by accident.
The evening was warm, and the people she saw entering and exiting Chez Bazin were in summer-appropriate formal wear. Others on the sidewalk looked more casual, sporting shorts and T-shirts, and barely looked at the restaurant as they hurried to their next destination. Newly planted oak trees lined the sidewalk, as well as a few potted plants. A newsstand, off to the left side of the restaurant, was manned by a vendor who had tipped his hat over his eyes so that he could nap in his chair.
He’ll turn left when he exits, Eva thought, because he’ll be heading to the Cutler Gallery. She moved in that direction, and then pretended to busy herself by the newsstand as if she was browsing the selection. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the restaurant’s doors.
At twenty after seven, she saw him push open the restaurant doors.
As had happened the day before, the sight of him took her breath away. He was moving in a confident, relaxed manner, with one hand in his pocket and his gaze up slightly at the skyline, which was dusted with golden light from the sinking sun.
She licked her lips, suddenly wishing for the chance to apply another coat of gloss. There wasn’t enough time.
She put down the paper she’d been holding and turned in his direction. She feigned looking through her handbag as she walked toward him, and then pulled out her phone, pretending to be about to make a call.