One Week in Greece

by Demi Alex

  It was said in jest, but while Paul’s dad did work a lot, he was a model patriarch. Nothing like Justin’s dad had been. Paul’s mom was an absolute doll. She doted on the family, and Justin as well. No complaints with the Lallas family, who was Main Street worthy and could star in the next family sitcom on a Big Fat Greek Life.

  “You deserve anything you desire,” Bethany said, giving Kosta an empathetic smile. “We all do.”

  And there it was.

  She said it: anything you desire.

  She flashed that brilliant smile, and issued what was probably a subconscious invitation to Justin and Paul with the twinkle in her eyes, effectively pulling Justin out of the verbal ping-pong match in his head.

  What Justin desired was the opportunity to get Bethany back into his life. And while he wasn’t certain why she’d pretended not to know him, he knew it pissed him off.

  Contrary to his earlier warning about Bethany being the competition, Paul also appeared more than a little interested in her. The conversation eased on to the amazing scenery and the magical location. They didn’t discuss business again. They ate sweet watermelon, paired with savory feta cheese, and discussed everything Vaso’s Dream offered. Everything she’d begun to love about the place, and everything Paul was worried about losing.

  When a reception attendant came for Kosta, and he left the table in order to assist the front desk, Justin confronted Bethany about the bogus introduction.

  “Suddenly you don’t know us?”

  “What?”

  “Bethany Michaels, Associate Director of Property Acquisitions. Pleasure to meet you.” Justin mimicked her earlier presentation.

  “You don’t understand—”

  “Understand what?” He fisted his hand, trying to calm the quick beating of his heart. His voice rose, proving he’d failed to control his emotions. “You’re embarrassed to know us?”

  “No,” she said, worrying her lower lip as she always had when she was anxious.

  “You avoided us on the ferry. Didn’t meet us at the café. And now you fucking introduce yourself to me like we’ve never met? Me? I’ve known you for well over a decade. I’ve known your secrets, your dreams, your every fucking desire. Hell, I know your freaking food allergies, your cute-as-hell obsessive quirks, and every freckle sprinkled across your gorgeous body. But suddenly, you don’t know me?”

  “It’s not like that,” she insisted, lifting her chin and straightening her shoulders. “This has nothing to do with our personal relationship.”

  “Like fuck it doesn’t.” Justin smacked the wooden table, before bringing his hand to the back of his neck and massaging the stiffness. “Why would you do this, Bethy? Why? What is wrong with knowing us? Knowing me?”

  “Nothing,” she said, pushing back her chair and standing.

  She placed both hands on the table and leaned down to speak to him in a low voice so as to not be overheard by other guests.

  “But you really do not understand.” She enunciated each word in a painfully slow manner. “I told you I was working. This is business. Business, Justin. My damn food allergies and childhood dreams have nothing to do with the success of this deal.”

  She gave Paul a quick nod, then grabbed her tote. “Leave the past out of it, and deal with today, Justin. This is fucking business.”

  He watched her strut off the terrace without even a look back. The pounding in his head rose to a painful level and he pressed a finger on each temple. The woman had the nerve to rant on him and then walk away. She was in the wrong. He wasn’t. There was nothing wrong with knowing her. No shame in their past.

  “She’s right,” Paul said, waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention. “You’ve met in different circumstances. You can’t bring the past back.”

  “She can’t walk away like that.”

  “She did,” Paul said. “And if you want her in your life, you better find a way to fix the mess you just made.”

  * * *

  Bethany’s dream project had turned into a personal nightmare.

  If her father ever found out who she’d been negotiating with and realized Justin’s connection to the family, he’d accuse her of manipulating company resources. She closed the door to her room and leaned her back against it, grateful for the support of the strong structure.

  A sob escaped her lips and she buried her face in her hands. She slid to the stone floor and pulled her knees to her chest. A good cry would relieve the heaviness in her chest. Tears she’d fought while walking the path to her room wet her cheeks.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there crying, but she did know the haze clouding her mind allowed her a strange kind of peace.

  Consumed by the gray cloud, the sound of her cell phone singing that her sister was on the phone, barely registered in her mind. Wiping the back of her palm across her cheeks, she let it go to voice mail.

  Sheridan called again and again. On the fourth call, she knew that Sheridan wasn’t going to give up. She had no choice but to answer.

  “You okay?” Bethany asked, clearing her throat and hoping Sheridan would miss the misery in her voice.

  “The question is…are you okay?”

  “What are you talking about?” Bethany pushed her palm on to her belly, trying to calm the nervousness that had settled there. She’d never been able to hide anything from her baby sister, but she couldn’t imagine how Sheridan had learned so quickly about her predicament. Maybe Luxury Homes had learned as well?

  “I’ve been stalking all your personal pages since the moment you left for Greece. Two days of post after post of gushing commentaries and incredible pictures, then there’s only an eerie silence since last night. You haven’t tweeted, posted, snapped, or shared anything, anywhere, since you left Athens.”

  Bethany blew out a relieved breath, tucking her feet beneath her and wiggling in place. Her sister had the intuition of a good witch, with the most enchanting social media skills to confirm her suspicions. And while Sheridan didn’t know about Justin and Paul, didn’t know they were on the island and were part of the Lallas property, she knew something big had rattled Bethany. Specifically, something had put a damper on her great adventure.

  “It’s not fair, Bethy. You blow up the net with posts, tease us with snippets of information, and make me sleep with my phone for more, then nothing—nada.” Sheridan paused, and Bethany could hear her sipping on something. Most likely the sparkling mineral water she carried everywhere. “Does it suck that bad?”

  “No,” Bethany said. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Sheridan asked.

  She didn’t know how to break the news without appearing pathetic. Sheridan had put her heart back together piece by piece after Justin; she’d been her lifeline, and she’d had a little more than some responsibility in the party girl image Bethany had worked to cultivate back then. Summing it up, Sheridan had taught her to hide her devastation and act like she didn’t give a shit about the man.

  “I saw him,” Bethany said.

  “Who?”

  “Him.”

  Chapter Six

  Okay, so maybe Bethany could use a lesson in tactful communication.

  She rose from the floor, her phone still pressed to her ear, and walked to the small refrigerator. Opening it, she discovered a gift basket wrapped with a blue ribbon and loaded with local wines and cheeses. Pulling a chilled bottle of rosé from its place, she sighed in victory.

  She rummaged through a draw of utensils in search of a bottle opener and after locating one, she moved to the table. It displayed even more welcome gifts: a loaf of bread and a bowl of assorted fruit made for a tasty centerpiece. As the resort’s numerous reviews had indicated, Vaso’s Dream’s authentic hospitality put a smile on her face.

  “Are you still there?” Sheridan asked, her patience waning.

  “Give me a second,” Bethany said. “I need a glass of wine to go with this talk.
”

  “Should I pour a glass of wine?”

  “What time is it there?”

  “Almost eight in the morning,” Sheridan replied.

  “In that case, I’d say no. Warm up your coffee, or grab another mineral water, and get comfortable.”

  As her sister grumbled about being stuck with coffee while Bethany got to have wine, she studied the translucent rosé. After pulling the cork, she inhaled the sweet aroma of berries, and poured a healthy serving. Then she sat cross-legged on a chair and readied herself to share.

  “Not too classy, but I poured enough for both of us.”

  “Good. Now talk. Who did you see? Who is there?”

  Bethany took a long gulp of the chilled wine and swallowed. “Justin.”

  “Justin? J?”

  It was more of a shriek than a question, and understandably so. Bethany held the phone away from her ear.

  “Yup. J is here with his drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend. A boyfriend he’s been with for years.” She took another sip. The glass was only half full now. “I met them on the ferry ride over.”

  “Hold on. Back up. His boyfriend?” Sheridan asked, but didn’t wait for a reply. “Does he still like women? I mean is he into both? Just gay? You know Mykonos is one of the most popular gay vacation destinations in the world, right? J is gay? That’s difficult to believe.”

  “Stop, Sher,” Bethany said. “You can’t put a label on Justin. J is who he is and he loves who he loves. That’s J. Always has been. That’s what I loved so much about him.”

  “No wonder my Bethany-Trouble alarm has been going off like all night,” Sheridan said. “Are you okay?”

  “Not really. It was really messed up.” She closed her eyes and replayed their meetings. On the ferry, she was in shock and barely able to react, so she’d run. At the resort, she’d panicked and sprouted prickly quills of defense. “You’d think it would have been awkward, and it was, but what really threw me was that I actually liked feeling J’s arms around me and his lips on my skin.”

  “Lips on your skin? You can’t do that, Bethy. You can’t.”

  “Not like that.” Or was it? She’d gone all warm and tingly, and had wanted to melt into him.

  “But, wait. It gets worse,” she insisted, setting the stage for the real shocker. “I liked Paul, too. And if he wasn’t with Justin, I could see myself giving him my number and waiting for him to call.”

  “What? Hold on. Seriously. I’m not following you. Is he gay? Bisexual?”

  “Not a question I typically ask on first contact, so I’m not sure.” Bethany rubbed her fingers over her forehead and massaged away the tension. “What I do know is that he’s hot. There’s something about him that just makes me melt.”

  “Bethy, do you hear yourself talking about giving Justin’s boyfriend your number?”

  “I take that back. I wouldn’t give him my number and wait for him to call. I’d get his number and call him.”

  She heard her sister’s shocked inhale and laughed, feeling better at her admission.

  “Seriously. He’s hot. If I met Paul under different circumstances, without J, I’d be all about jumping his bones. And I get the feeling he’d be good with it, too.”

  “I like it when you laugh,” Sheridan admitted. “I like it even more when you’re finally talking about jumping a drop-dead gorgeous man’s bones again. Your choice of words, not mine. But do you think you may be in over your head with this?”

  “Totally.” Bethany poured a second glass of wine. Less this time. She had no right to thoughts of such a carnal nature with either one of them. “Actually, he did give me his number.”

  “Holy shit, sister. The only two men you’ve ever gushed over are hooked up and you’ve got their numbers. Bethany, listen to me.” The concern and alarm in Sheridan’s voice were impossible to miss. “They. Are. Committed. To each other.”

  “I know,” she whispered, running her finger along the rim of the glass. “While I’m not sure if Paul has any interest in women, let’s say for argument’s sake he does . . . I’m not about to make any moves on Paul…or Justin. I don’t go after taken men.”

  “Taken or not, you steer clear of that train wreck. You don’t need heartache. Remember what happened last time you let yourself fall for J?”

  “Of course I do. I’m not senile.”

  “I hope you didn’t tell them where you’re staying.”

  “I didn’t, but—”

  “At least you can hide in the resort, bury yourself in work, and avoid them,” Sheridan said. “Get this deal signed, then get your ass on the first plane home. We’ll hit the South Shore for a week, and Justin and Paul will be a distant memory. Real distant.”

  Bethany twisted her wrist and watched the delicious pink liquid swirl in the glass. “It’s not that easy. There’s more.”

  “Go on,” Sheridan urged, more than a hint of hesitation in her tone.

  Bethany considered the ludicrous coincidence of her dilemma and raised the wine to her lips. She took a long sip. “Maybe you should pour a glass of wine for yourself. This is more absurd than you could ever imagine.”

  “Just spill, sis. Now.”

  “You’ve read up on the resort acquisition, right?”

  “Of course I have. Daddy is throwing every pretty project on my desk, hoping I’ll sign on permanently. He thinks my personal aspirations are a passing phase,” Sheridan said.

  “Sugar, he doesn’t get careers with a creative twist…other than that they lead down one path. The path of the starving artist.”

  “Excuses. But we’re not talking about Dad,” Sheridan said. “I can see that the Lallas property is a no-brainer. It’s obvious why you want to get it.”

  “J’s Paul is Paul Lallas.” She didn’t bother easing into the problem. Her sister knew the implication of the connection. She simply sucked down more wine. “Vaso’s Dream is owned and operated by Paul’s uncle.”

  “Fuuuuuck,” Sheridan groaned. The sound of opening and closing of cupboard doors traveled through the silence of the phone. “I need something stronger than wine.”

  “There’s a bottle of Jack in the side table, right behind the little monkey statue,” Bethany offered. “Add some to your coffee.”

  “You know, if people could hear us, they’d think we’re raging alcoholics.”

  “If we were raging alcoholics, I doubt a splash of Jack and a few glasses of wine would be enough.”

  “Who cares what people think,” Sheridan said. “What are you going to do?”

  “Did you pour the Jack yet? The story gets even more twisted.”

  Bethany waited for her sister to moan her response, indicating that not only had she poured the Tennessee Honey, but she was already drinking it.

  “We’re freaking sharing an infinity pool.”

  “You’re rambling. What are you talking about?”

  “One of those heavenly pools that looks like it overflows into the horizon.” She stood and strolled to the large window, no glass pane, just blue shutters folded back against the white walls, so she could smell the sea in the cool breeze that swept over her wet cheeks. “They’re staying in the suite next to mine.”

  The background noise became muffled. Either Sheridan had thrown the phone on the couch or had crushed it between her cheek and shoulder. Bethany waited, knowing that when her sister was on a mission, there was no way to call her off. It would be useless to try and get her attention. Sheridan was probably formulating a rescue plan. A plan she’d shoot down.

  She didn’t need rescuing.

  Bethany sat on the cushioned window seat, mesmerized by the natural beauty before her. She leaned the side of her head against the blue window trim and waited, softly speaking into the phone as if she had no care in the world.

  “The view is surreal.” The intense blues of the sky and the sea contrast with the stark white of the island structures, pink and red of bougainvillea blooms sprinkl
ed in the scenery. “You’d love it.”

  “What are you rambling about?” Sheridan asked.

  “I was just saying how pretty it is here.” She so wanted to swim in the pool, to reach her arm up, touch the sea, and lose track of time.

  But she didn’t dare. What if one of the guys showed? What if Justin demanded they speak? What if Paul sided with her instead of Justin?

  Friction.

  Tension.

  Drama.

  She unfolded the shutters, linked them together for privacy, and retreated to her seat at the table. Tapping the phone’s screen, she placed the call on speaker and topped off her wine. She managed to munch on a corner of the bread and a few grapes from the fruit bowl before getting back to the conversation.

  “I’ve got this,” Sheridan said at last. “I’m booking a flight to Athens. I’ll get there as soon as possible.”

  She hurriedly swallowed the sweetest grapes of her life. “No.”

  “Why not?” Sheridan asked. “You need me. You fell apart when Justin broke your heart. Honestly, sis, you have no defenses when it comes to him. And now there’s that guy, Paul, yanking your chain. How are you going to get through this in one piece?”

  “I will.” She heard the words she spoke, but needed to repeat them for her own assurance. “I will…get through it just fine. I’m not an inexperienced kid any longer. I’m a true professional who knows how to separate business and personal relationships. I’ve already relegated them to a business-only relationship. I made certain Justin understood this is a strictly business week, and that he has no hold over me.”

  Her sister didn’t respond, and the silence was deafening. Trepidation crawled over her skin and her stomach tightened so hard, she had to press her palm to her belly in order to relieve the pressure. She knew Sheridan didn’t buy her declaration.

  “I’m not going to give into the urge to see him again—not like that. Besides, there’s that issue of his boyfriend.”

  “How did Justin react?”

  “Not good. He was more than a little pissed that I pretended not to know him in front of Mr. Lallas. I explained that it was because of our circumstances. I had no choice,” Bethany added. “Paul gets it better than Justin. He agreed that this week is about business.”