by Sharon Ihle
Her heart in her throat, she rushed across the room and opened the door. It wasn't Dimitri, but the visitor left no less an impact on her than if it had been. It was Colleen.
Shylo's entire system shut down, and her mouth fell open as she stared at the woman who'd given birth to her. She was torn between turbulent conflicting emotions, unable to speak or move until one or the other won out. The first urge that came over her was to slam the door in her mother's face, to let her know what it felt like to be the one rejected. The other, equally as strong as the former, coaxed the child in Shylo to throw herself into her mother's arms, to beg her to hold her and love her—just to love her and nothing more.
"Well?" Colleen said in a quiet voice. "May I come in?"
* * *
Dimitri had taken a long brisk walk around San Diego, hoping to somehow bank the fires still burning inside him, but it hadn't helped. In a last effort he went back to the Horton House Hotel and headed straight for the bar. His eyes adjusting to the much dimmer light inside, he didn't look around the crowded room when he entered. He just marched right up to the bartender and said, "I would like raki, please. And leave the bottle."
The bartender laughed. "That's become a mighty requested item, but I'm afraid I still don't have it."
"Ouzo, then? Do you have this?"
As the man slowly shook his head, a voice reached Dimitri from behind. "Excuse me, sir. Are you looking for me?"
Dimitri turned to find Buck standing there. "Why would I do that?"
"I was hoping, wondering, did Cassie send you in here after me? I've been waiting to hear from her for a powerful long time."
"I'm sorry, but I have no message for you." He started to turn back to the bar, and then hesitated as he got a good look at Buck. His eye was still swollen, the puffy flesh around it mottled with purplish skin, but the grooves Shylo had carved in his cheek finally seemed to be on the mend.
"Can you tell me please what American cowboys drink to get rid of the thinking?" Dimitri asked him. Buck frowned, so he added, "To make the brain numb, katalaves?"
"Oh, that'd be whiskey. Whiskey for sure."
"Would you like to join me?" he asked impulsively. When Buck nodded enthusiastically, Dimitri turned to the bartender and said, "I would like two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, please."
After he paid for the liquor, Dimitri searched the room for a table. Because of a billiard tournament, the dais that circled the entire bar was crowded with observers and most of the tables in the area seemed to be filled as well. Then he spotted Ari, Niko, and Wyatt Earp sitting at a corner table. He hadn't yet found a chance to confront his uncle Niko yet, and while he wasn't sure he was physically or mentally up to it now, his mood was foul enough to do battle with the devil himself. Thinking a fight might actually do him some good, he headed straight for the raucous trio, with Dilly the Kid hot on his heels.
"Dimitri, my son," said Ari as he noticed his nephew's approach, "come join us. We have much news."
Dimitri pulled out the only empty chair at the table and slid onto the seat, leaving Buck to fend for himself. Used to helping himself to other's belongings, Buck pilfered a chair from an adjoining table, and then squeezed it between Dimitri and the man with the handlebar mustache.
Remembering how protective Shylo had been of the girl he now knew to be her sister, Dimitri decided to have a little fun as he prepared to make the introductions, and he actually found himself smiling for the first time that day. "These are my uncles, Ari and Niko," he said. Then he pointed to the man on the kid's left and added, "And this is Wyatt Earp."
Buck's good eye bulged and his Adam's apple began to bob like a duck on a pond, but the only word to escape his lips was something between a gulp and a gasp.
"Meet Buck Dilly everyone," Dimitri went on, his smile even wider. "Sometimes he's also called Dill—"
"Bucky," Buck said, cutting Dimitri off. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Earp, fellas. Could I have some a that whiskey now, sir?"
Taking pity on the kid, Dimitri poured him a shot.
Then, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Niko, he turned his full attention to Ari and immediately lapsed into his native language. "I could have sworn I heard you two laughing when I walked up just now, but for the life of me, I can't imagine how anything to do with Niko could be funny. How is that, Ari?"
After glancing at both Earp and Niko, Ari answered his nephew in Greek. "I've learned much about what happened at Adonis Imports, my son, and understand better how the business was lost. Perhaps at another time—"
"Now."
Niko said to his friend Earp, "Forgive our bad manners, but we have much family business to discuss, and English is, I think, too difficult for us all."
"No need to apologize." Earp pushed out of his chair. "I was just thinking I ought to check on my own business before my managers cheat me out of more than I make." And with that he took his leave.
Buck, visibly relieved, seemed to wilt against his chair, but he did have the strength to pour himself another glass of whiskey and toss it down.
The Greeks, unconcerned about the young man or how much he drank, poured their own glasses full and got down to business. "So," Dimitri said to Ari, his mood even blacker, "did Niko tell you if he waited until my father was dead to steal our money, or did he do it while he was dying?"
"I did not know of George's death." Niko banged his fist against the table. "The first I heard of it was here in this room."
Dimitri looked over to his father's brother. He hadn't seen his uncle in a long time and was surprised to realize how much he resembled the family,
Dimitri's father in particular. Niko was balding now, but the hair he did have was shiny black with very few strands of gray. The telltale little mole at the corner of his lip still peeked out from under his bushy salt-and-pepper mustache, and his body was fit, almost as big as Dimitri's. In spite of his fifty-some years, Niko was still a very handsome man. And he was a thief.
Dimitri turned back to Ari. "Once Niko learned of my father's death, did he agree to return the money he stole from us?"
"I have stolen nothing. Hear me, nothing."
Tired of lies, Dimitri finally addressed Niko to his face. "You are not to be believed. When you left town, you took everything that was Adonis Imports with you. Everything."
"I have done nothing wrong, I tell you, nothing."
"Stop." Ari raised his arms to intervene. "This will get us nowhere. Both of you be quiet and listen to me."
Because Ari was, above all else, an arbitrator of the highest order, the angry men silently nodded their agreement to this. Pointing to Dimitri, Ari said, "Do not interrupt what I have to say. Just listen and understand."
Dimitri narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He picked up his glass of whiskey instead and used it to seek a little relief from the unrelenting ache inside.
"That your father, George, had a fondness for visiting the kafeneon cannot be a surprise to any of us, but I wonder, Dimitri, if you knew how very much he liked to gamble?"
He shrugged. "My father liked backgammon as well as you, I suppose."
"More, I fear, much, much more. I think I knew that of him a long time ago, but hoped it would not become a problem." Ari clasped his hands together and lowered his voice. "Your father's business was not stolen from him, my son. He lost it."
Dimitri was shocked by this news. "I do not understand how that could have happened."
"But it has," said Ari. "I have listened to Niko with both my heart and my mind. I believe he took no more from Adonis Imports than his fair share. I believe also that he took his money in order to keep your father from losing it as well. Those are the things I believe, and there is no reason to doubt them."
Dimitri studied the amber liquid in the shot glass he held and thought of his memories of his father. After their last terrible battle over Dimitri's insistence in going to college rather than taking over the business, his father had had little contact with him, treating
him as if he didn't exist. Looking back, he supposed the old man hoped this tactic would make him feel guilty enough to agree to his terms, but in reality the stand only allowed them to drift farther apart. Dimitri knew precious little about his father or his habits after he left Thessaloniki for the University of Athena. Could George Adonis have been so irresponsible as to gamble away the company's capital?
Shifting his gaze back to Niko, Dimitri asked, "If all you took was yours, why did you flee the country and change your name?"
"The day that your father died, as it turns out, we had a terrible argument." Niko's eyes glazed over at the memory. "I had just gone over the books, and discovered a tremendous shortage, one that your father had carefully hidden over a period of time. When I confronted him about it, he became belligerent and denied all, but I knew what had happened to the money. I think your mother did, too."
"My mother knows of this?"
"She must have suspected. Speak to her about this when you return home. I could not, so I did what was best for me." Niko leaned across the table and looked his nephew in the eye. "You have been gone from Thessaloniki for a long time, and do not know many of your family's problems. I have long dreamed of coming to this great country, not to live at first, but to explore. When I made up my mind to quit the business with your father, my first thought was to come to the United States. There is no other reason I came here. I did not flee my country, but left it in search of something new."
"And what of your name? If you were not running away or hiding, could you not have lived as Nikolao Adonis in these United States?"
Niko shook his head sadly. "I could not hope to live for long on what was left of my share of the company. The business was close to ruin. How could I seek investors to start a new enterprise if I represented myself as a partner in a failed business? The only answer was to start fresh, and to do that, a new name was necessary. I have brought no shame to this family, nor shall I."
Although he wasn't entirely sure he believed everything Niko had said, Dimitri sensed that enough of it was true to realize the trip he'd made to California had been a waste of both time and money. Niko wouldn't be returning funds he didn't owe—and he had an idea he wouldn't be too interested in making a loan to the business, either. Adonis Imports—and Dimitri—were losers all around.
Deciding that he'd had enough trauma for one night, Dimitri heaved a sigh and changed the subject. "Your new business must be doing well, Uncle Niko. From the look of you and your new wife, I'd say very well indeed."
Niko caught his nephew with an ardent gaze. "Thank you, Dimitraki, for believing me. I would never harm you or your mother." Dimitri nodded, accepting the truce, and Niko went on with the new subject. "I never had to start a new business. I met Colleen shortly after I arrived in New York, and she and I got on instantly. We were married very soon after that. I'm pleased to say that not only is my wife quite beautiful, but she is a very rich woman. I have no need to conduct any business other than overseeing her investments such as the land she owns here in San Diego."
Dimitri allowed a small grin, then remembered some of the things Shylo had told her about the new Mrs. Pappas. A woman, he suddenly realized, who was not just Cassie's mother, but Shylo's as well. Why hadn't he put that together before now? he wondered. And had anyone else—Niko, for instance?
Ari poured new drinks all around and hoisted his glass. "To rich American women and their fondness for foreigners."
The Greeks' glasses met at the center of the table, and Buck, whom they'd forgotten about, smashed his glass against the others, spilling a good portion of his whiskey. He had no idea what they were talking about, but he gave them a lopsided grin, then settled back on his chair and watched them through half- closed eyelids.
"And," said Ari, raising his drink again, "to our nephew Dimitri, and his new marriage to the beautiful, if not so rich, Shylo Folsom. Did I tell you, Niko, that our nephew is wed to the president's niece?"
"The president of these United States?"
"The very one."
Ari and Niko clinked glasses, but Dimitri just downed his whiskey and refilled his glass. "You celebrate nothing," he said, his voice leaden. "Ari is wrong, as he has been all along. It seems that Shylo is neither the president's niece nor my legal wife."
Ari gasped. "But I was your best man. I was there at the ceremony."
"You witnessed a phony ceremony." He shot Ari a vicious glance. "Next time you do some matchmaking, be a little more thorough when you examine the bride- to-be's background, will you?"
"But, my son. How can this be?"
"It just is. Her real name is Shylo McBride. She tricked you and me into bringing her here to San Diego to greet her mother, whom, I gather, she hasn't seen in some time." Something else about Shylo and her relationship with her mother nagged him in the back of his mind, but between the whiskey and all he'd been through today, he skipped over the thought. He turned to Niko instead. "The way these American women lie, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that you are not aware Shylo is the daughter of your wife."
Niko choked on his whiskey. "My Colleen... a mother?"
Dimitri laughed. "You see what I mean? American women are not to be trusted."
Ari, who could hardly believe any of this, said, "Are you sure of these facts, my son? You could get Niko in very much trouble with his bride if you are making jokes."
"I assure you that I am not joking. Colleen is not only Shylo's mother, but Cassie's. In fact, I believe the McBride sisters are upstairs as we speak, probably planning more lies so they can find a few more fools to take them back to New York."
Ari went pale.
"Drink up, Uncle," said Dimitri. "But think of something else to celebrate. You really are a terrible matchmaker." He glanced at Niko, who was just recovering from his shock. "Women, huh? The only thing that makes them happy is money—diamonds on their fingers, emeralds at their throats, just give them money and a lofty position in society. That's what Shylo thought she was getting from me." He took another drink.
Niko downed his whiskey. "The only thing Colleen is getting from me, is me, since she was very prominent in New York society when me met. As for money"—he laughed and poured drinks for them all—"she has more than she knows what to do with already."
"She may be rich, but apparently your Colleen also has a cruel streak." Dimitri recalled the way she had behaved toward Shylo at the docks. "Is she the cold- hearted woman she appears to be?"
Niko paused a long time, his features looking rubbery. Then he said, "My Colleen is a complicated woman, and sometimes seems to be very cold, yes, but I think she is much like the mountain bear in Macedonia. She burrows deep beneath a winter coat of snow and ice to protect herself, but inside that frigid shell is a warm, slumbering heart that is not always easy to awaken." He cut loose with a boisterous laugh. "And like the hibernating bear, sometimes it is a very big mistake to even try."
Everyone, including Dimitri, laughed at that. When their chuckles died down, Buck's voice penetrated the foreign conversation, his words a little slurred as he said, "Hey. Are you fellas ever gonna speak Engrish again so's I know what's going on, too?"
"Engrish it is from here on out." proclaimed Dimitri.
Two rounds of drinks and lots of broken "Engrish" later, Ari, the master arbitrator and matchmaker, decided it would be a good idea for them to round up all the women, straighten out the mixed identities, and properly introduce the mothers and the daughters. Niko, who was still childless after two marriages, rather enjoyed the thought of becoming an instant stepfather to two lovely young women and couldn't wait to put the plan in motion. Buck, who was almost too drunk to think, period, figured this was one hell of a fine time to meet his future mother-in-law and ask for her daughter's hand in marriage—no, to demand that she give it to him. And Dimitri, who'd managed to anesthetize quite a lot of the pain inside, thought it would be a fine idea if he just went along to watch the fireworks.
So, after several false starts and
a couple of shots of whiskey later, the quartet finally managed to get to their feet and make their way out of the bar. They figured it would be best to start with the sisters upstairs, then worry about where to find Colleen. By the time they reached the second-floor landing, they were traveling in single file, weaving down the hallway like a snake with absolutely no sense of direction.
Chapter 18
Unaware that all the men had congregated downstairs, Shylo stood back out of her mother's way and showed her into the room. Then, although she'd yet to speak a word to her, she closed the door quietly. What could Colleen possibly want?
A dark silence hung over the room as Shylo watched her mother, resplendent in a Charles Worth suit of rose, green, and brown-striped silk, come in and stand near the bed. She was gazing at Cassie with an almost wistful expression, perhaps even a small amount of wonder to finally look upon the fruit of her womb and behold such a lovely young woman. But more likely, Shylo thought with a surge of resentment, her mother was probably horrified right up to her perfectly arched eyebrows to realize that she'd begotten such a pair of "ne'er-do-wells" as these McBride sisters.
Colleen suddenly raised her head to glance at Shylo, and then just as quickly looked back down at Cassie. "I can hardly believe that you're this... this grown-up already," she whispered, "but you must be Cassandra."
Cassie nodded dumbly.
Shifting her gaze to the sloppy knot of pink hair piled high on her daughter's head, Colleen pressed her lips together in a faint grin, shook her head slightly, then reached out to touch that hair as if to make certain it was real.
The little show of intimacy put springs in Shylo's feet. "Why did you come here, Mrs. Pappas?" she asked as she crossed the room.
Cassie shot a startled look at Shylo, and then stared up at the red-haired woman with awe. "Ma? Is it really you?" she whispered.
"That's Colleen McBride Broussard Pappas," Shylo replied before her mother could answer. "I don't think she'll be wanting you to call her 'Ma.'"
With a sharp glance in Shylo's direction, Colleen stripped off her tan kid gloves and said, "The only reason I came here was to talk to you girls, to explain why I had to leave you when I did, and Shylo—to apologize for the things I said to you at the dock. May I stay long enough to do that? Will you hear me out, or would you rather just stay mad at me?"