The Passionate Greek

by Catherine Dane

  ‘I would like to terminate these discussions now,’ he said. Melanie’s self control snapped.

  ‘This is not a board meeting. I’m not one of your staff to be dismissed just when you feel like it.’

  ‘No, you are not one of my staff and you never will be,’ he responded sharply. ‘The whole idea is ridiculous. You will not be coming to Skiapolos to care for my daughter.’

  ‘She is not just your daughter,’ said Melanie angrily. ‘She s my daughter, too.’

  ‘You forfeited your rights to her in law and I intend that you will keep to that arrangement.’

  His searing words went to the core of her being. She had given her daughter up to him and for the rest of her life she would have to live with that decision. She had come to him hoping that the memory of their love for each other would somehow soften him. Now she knew she had to face the truth. The man she had loved, and thought she knew, had been replaced by this unforgiving, unbending stranger.

  His hand hovered once again over the bell on his desk. Clearly he was going to have her escorted out. Forestalling him, she swung on her heels and marched to the door with all the dignity she could dredge from her shattered psyche. She had come to fight for her daughter and she had lost. Tears she didn’t want him to see blinded her as she groped for the door handle. Suddenly he was beside her, his hand on her arm.

  Surprisingly gently he said, ‘I will always look after her, you know.’

  Melanie’s voice was near to breaking. ‘Yes, I believe you will. And you have to know this. You may take my daughter from me, but you will never be able to take away from my heart. I will always, always love her.’

  Nicos watched her walk away. Half of him wanted to go after her, tell her none of it mattered, he loved her, his life without her had ceased to have meaning. But he didn’t – he couldn’t. The demons of his past held him firm. Just a woman to let him down the way he knew a woman always would; just as his mother had. He’d thought Melanie was different. He’d let down his guard with her, let her into his heart and into his head and she had repaid him with betrayal. He held on to his anger like a talisman. It would make the hurt go away.

  Chapter Two

  ‘Hi! Over here.’

  Melanie had forgotten Gabby but there was the nanny waiting for her in her car parked on the driveway. She was waving frantically and beaming. ‘You were ages,’ she said. ‘I thought he’d kidnapped you,’ she grinned. ‘I wouldn’t mind him kidnapping me. He’s a bit gorgeous.’ Peering at Melanie with sudden concern she said, ‘is anything up? You look a bit…’

  Summoning all her resources Melanie managed to say, ‘Nothing’s wrong. I’ve got a bit of a dust allergy and I started sneezing. I just need to redo my eye makeup and I’ll be good as new.’ She startled herself at how glibly she covered her feelings when all she wanted to do was sit down and howl.

  ‘Jump in,’ ordered Gabby. ‘Where do you live? I’ll drop you off if it’s not too far out of my way. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.

  Melanie sank gratefully beside Gabby and busied herself rummaging in her handbag for her makeup and pulling down the visor mirror. Anything to stop Gabby’s too close scrutiny. Gabby put the car into first gear and inched down the long driveway at a snail’s pace passed the bemused eyes of one of the estate’s gardeners who had been busy clipping the verges but had stopped to watch Gabby’s stately progress. Gabby flicked her eyes up to the rear mirror.

  ‘Men! He’s having a good sneer at women drivers. They don’t get it, do they? If you told a man you were doing your eyes he’d still be off like a rocket with testosterone in the fuel tank. Then it’s the brush in your eye and death by mascara.’ She swung through the double iron gates on to the road and picked up speed. Under the cover of Gabby’s happy chatter Melanie was recovering some of her equilibrium as they sped down the country lane leading to the main road.

  ‘Where’s it to be then? Gabby asked.

  ‘The station would be fine, if it’s not out of your way,’ said Melanie. ‘It’s half an hour away but there are fast trains to London so I shouldn’t have long to wait.

  ‘Lucky you, living in London,’ said Gabby. ‘I’ve got to get myself all the way up to Yorkshire. That's c lose on 200 miles.'

  Melanie had been so wrapped up in her own misery she had forgotten that Gabby was due for disappointment. She wasn’t going to get the longed for nanny job. She thought it would look odd if she didn’t ask Gabby about the interview. She settled for ‘How did you get on with Mr Chalambrous?’ There was an awkward pause. Gabby’s normal cheerful tone became regretful.

  ‘Look, I don’t know how much you wanted the position but Mr Chalambrous as good as told me the job is mine. I’m really sorry, but I’m sure you’ll find something good.’

  Melanie didn’t know how to react to that If only Nicos had had the sense to employ this lovely happy person to take care of their daughter instead of that sour faced woman he had chosen. Blast his preoccupation with Greek roots, she thought furiously. She was at a loss how to tell Gabby that she was wrong. Her dream of a Greek island summer wasn’t going to come true.

  Melanie debated how to break the news gently, or whether she should just say nothing and let Gabby find out later. She liked this girl. All her instincts told her that if she had been employing someone to help with her daughter’s upbringing she would have chosen this one. She resolved to let her down as gently as possible. ‘Perhaps the summer in Greece won’t be all you think,’ she said. ‘I hear the island is very isolated and quiet. It’s a private island and I’m told MrChalambrous doesn’t encourage visitors there. You might get bored.’

  Melanie hoped she didn’t sound as if she was trying to rain on Gabby’s parade out of her own disappointment. But Gabby responded positively. ‘Oh, I don’t mind about that,’ she said. ‘I didn’t really want the job because of the summer on a Greek island. The trouble with being a nanny is that you get fond of the little one you’re looking after and then you have to leave them. It fair cuts you up sometimes.

  ‘When my agency told me that what this client wanted was someone who would be totally committed to the child and would be prepared to stay for at least five years I knew it was just what I wanted. I think that’s why I convinced Mr Chalambrous that I was what he was looking for.’ Gabby sounded so confident she almost convinced Melanie, till she remembered the big stumbling block.

  ‘But you don’t speak Greek,’ she exclaimed.

  'Course, I do,’ grinned Gabby. ‘Oh, I know what you’re thinking, blonde hair, blue eyes. My Dad’s a Yorkshire man and I take after him, but Mum’s from Athens. Dad’s job before he retired was checking insurance claims on oil tankers and he had to spend a lot of time in Greece. That’s where he met my mum. I was brought up in Yorkshire but mum always spoke Greek with me at home. Mr Chalambrous conducted the whole of my interview in Greek. I think that was a big plus for me.’

  Melanie felt a surge of relief. Not Miss Sourpuss then, but lovely, bubbly Gabby was going to look after her daughter. If she couldn’t take care of her own baby she had the feeling she herself would have chosen this girl in spite of their short acquaintance. They had reached the crossroads. Melanie noted how Gabby waited patiently for a gap in the traffic before she pulled out on to the main road. ‘Good,’ she noted to herself. ‘A careful driver. She wouldn’t take risks with Electra.’

  Oblivious to Melanie’s thoughts Gabby shot her a swift, curious glance before fixing her eyes once again on the road ahead. ‘I’ve just told you you’re not getting the job and you look happy as Larry,’ she said. ‘If it was me I’d try not to mind, but I’m telling you I would.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve got some more interviews lined up,’ said Melanie hastily, and was pleased to see Gabby’s good humor restored.

  Melanie refused Gabby’s offer to wait with her at the station for her train to London telling the girl she should get on the road as soon as she could for the long drive home. Though sincere in her concern Melanie was also unce
rtain how long she could hide her real feelings from her new friend. Glad as she was at the news Electra would be in Gabby’s care she felt the misery of the loss of her child stealing over her again.

  On impulse she dived into her handbag and scrabbled for a pen and a piece of paper. She quickly wrote down her address and telephone number as well as her email address.

  ‘I’d love to know how you get on it Greece,’ she said, hoping that maybe Gabby would have some time to perhaps email her with news of Electra, never knowing how important it would turn out to be for her. She wished Gabby the best of luck in her new position and thanking her for the lift she hurried into the station booking office. Gabby gave a merry toot on the horn as she drove off.

  ‘Lucky, lucky Gabby,’ thought Melanie, as she made her way on to the platform.

  As Melanie boarded the London train she was thankful to see that the carriages were relatively empty. She gazed unseeing out of the window at the passing countryside her thoughts tumbling about her. She had been foolish. She knew that now. Not only had she lost the chance to care for her daughter she was more than likely going to lose her job. Nicos would surely waste no time in telephoning the agency and letting them know that their employee had passed themselves off as one of their highly qualified nannies.

  When the real Stephanie Brooks had called the agency to tell them she was ill and unable to keep that day’s appointment with Mr Chalambrous it had been Melanie, halfway through the first month of her new job at the Premiere Childcare Agency, who had taken the call. From carefully questioning Stephanie she had learned that Nicos’s personal assistant had interviewed several girls selecting three she considered the most suitable to present themselves for interview with Nicos.

  At first Melanie had been stunned to learn that Nicos was engaging a nanny for their daughter. But why would he not be, she thought. It was no coincidence that he had chosen the very agency where Melanie worked. Nicos only ever chose the best so of course he came to the agency with a worldwide reputation for its highly qualified, dedicated girls.

  On the spur of the moment and without a thought for the consequences Melanie acted. Telling her colleagues she had a sick headache and was going home she grabbed Stephanie’s CV from the file and moments later was in a taxi on her way to the station. Now she was heading back into town to face the music. She knew she had been lucky to get the agency job. Not every company was keen to employ someone with a criminal record.

  Melanie could not help a wry smile as she thought of herself as a criminal. Was lying for someone you loved a crime? The law decreed it was. She had found that out. And it had cost her everything; the baby she had longed for, the man she thought would be her future and the catering business she had been so very proud of; the company she had built up by her own hard work and initiative. Funny how that didn’t seem so important now. At one time it had been the thing she cared about most. But that was before Nicos Chalambrous entered her life.

  It was not their first meeting that Melanie would never forget. It was the mortifying second encounter that still made her cringe. She knew who owned Tele-Sky Communications, of course. Who didn’t? Nicos Chalambrous was a legend in the world of global communications. Everyone knew him – but nobody knew him. Not for nothing was he known as the most secretive billionaire on the planet. At pains to protect his privacy the most that was known about him was that he liked to spend all his summers on his own private island or sailing the Aegean on his 200ft yacht.

  Sometimes the paparazzi would capture him in their long tom lenses on the deck of his boat. Occasionally there would be a mystery girl lounging on the deck, but more often than not he was alone. Rumours swirled about him. Once he was reported engaged to a Greek shipping heiress but no marriage was featured in the glossy magazines. Few people knew what he actually looked like.

  Melanie was elated when her catering business secured the contract to supply business lunches at the corporate headquarters of Tele-Sky Communications in the City of London. Her submission of organic and locally sourced foods where possible at competitive prices she was told had swung the deal for her. That and the fact that one of the director’s had attended one of her lunches at another company and been duly impressed.

  Her first booking for Tele-sky was lunch for ten in the private dining room on the top floor of the company’s impressive neo classical building. She had inspected the dining room and the kitchens beforehand with her customary attention to detail and was pleased and not a little surprised to discover that in such an ancient building the facilities for food preparation were ultra modern.

  She and her staff had been hard at work all morning. Everything was going to plan but she was undeniably tense. She so wanted everything to be perfect. She was putting the finishing touches to the desert when she glanced up to see a tall man in jeans lounging in the doorway.

  ‘You’re very late,’ she snapped. . ‘You should have been here half an hour ago. I told the temp agency I wanted somebody reliable. I’ve already had the vegetable boxes brought up from the van so go downstairs and bring up the cases of still and sparkling water. Then see Maisie, she’s the head waitress and ask her what she needs you to do.’ Amused dark brown eyes met hers and Melanie was put out that he didn’t jump to immediately.

  ‘Go on. Get on with it,’ she ordered, thinking that’s just what she didn’t need, a guy with movie star looks and attitude.

  ‘Yes, Madam. Right away, Madam.’ His response was accompanied by a sardonic grin. Was this man laughing at her? He’d find out who was in charge around here soon enough, she thought furiously. Putting him out of her mind she concentrated on her final preparations. Making her final checks on the table settings she was thankful to see that the water she had ordered to be brought up was in its place, although there was no sign of Mr Attitude. ‘Well, I’ll sort him out later,’ she thought.

  The lunch guests were being ushered in and she retreated to the kitchen for last minute adjustments. Timing was essential now. A reasonable gap between courses, not too long but not so short that the guests felt hurried. Melanie always kept an unobtrusive eye on her neatly uniformed staff as they served. Usually she found a spot where the guests would not notice her presence.

  She had picked out her observation post by a serving trolley half way along a wall where she could see the whole of the dining table. As she made her way quietly to stand beside the waitresses who were lined up ready to serve the first course the host was on his feet and making a welcome speech his broad shouldered back towards Melanie as she entered the room.

  In spite of her preoccupations his voice registered with Melanie. Although he appeared to speak softly with just a hint that English was not his first language every word was audible. Melanie felt that each guests could believe his words were spoken for them alone. Later she was to learn that he always had that effect.

  ‘Wow, he’s dead sexy’

  The whispered aside from one of the girls reached Melanie’s ears as she took her place beside the lined up waitresses. She gave the girl a reproving stare and turned to look at the man with the voice whose speech was clearly almost over.

  Melanie's heart plummeted. Incredulously, she took in the elegant dark suit and crisp white shirt open at the neck. Gone were the jeans and causal tee but there was no mistake. Thick dark hair, warm olive skin, dark amber eyes, which right at that moment alighted on Melanie with the same amused glint. Delivery boy. There was no mistaking him. Her first really big job and she had blown it. She was angry with herself and angry with him, too.

  He was ending his speech with a light-hearted anecdote that had the assembled guests laughing. Melanie knew he was looking at her but was too confused and dismayed to register the sense of what he was saying. But his last words brought a furious flush to her cheeks.

  ‘I expect we’ll all still have a sparkling time,’ he finished

  Then he reached for his water glass and with a small smile in her direction raised it to his lips. Melanie wanted to die. As
soon as she could she escaped to the sanctuary of the kitchen. None of her staff had seemed to notice anything amiss. Melanie thanked her stars that they had been setting up in the dining room when he had made his kitchen appearance. No one had heard her ordering the billionaire boss of one of the biggest companies on the planet to fetch his own water. In spite of herself the thought made her giggle.

  Somehow she got through the lunch, studiously avoiding any visits to the dining room and concentrating on preparing the food. Whatever went wrong now couldn’t be worse than what had already happened. There weren’t going to be any more bookings here or any recommendations. Melanie was sure of that. Through the kitchen swing doors she could make out the final speeches and the farewells of the departing guests. Now all that remained was the clearing up. She and her staff set to and in under an hour had everything packed up and carted down to the van. Melanie thanked her staff, paid off the part time waitresses and wearily shrugged out of her chef’s whites.

  ‘I have come to say sorry.’

  Melanie spun round. He was standing in the kitchen doorway as he had before. The suit had gone and he was back in tee shirt and jeans. Melanie was disconcerted to find herself thinking how good he looked. Annoyed and on the defensive she snapped ‘Oh, it’s the quick change artist.’ He threw back his head and laughed delightedly.

  ‘Is that what you think I am?’

  ‘You might have told me who you were. What were you doing in the kitchen anyway?’ she demanded.

  ‘I was told you were the most beautiful cook in the whole of London and I wanted to come and see if it was true.’ Melanie gave a derisive laugh.

  ‘But they lied to me.’ His dark eyes held a glint. ‘You are not the most beautiful cook in the whole of London. I think you are probably the most beautiful girl in the whole of London.’ He was flirting outrageously with her and Melanie couldn’t help weakening. He had come to stand in front of her. She folded her arms, as if to ward him off. Close up he was dangerous, she thought.