The Greek’s Cinderella Deal by Carol Marinelli

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SOMUCHFORkeeping things simple!

Costa liked the feel of her tucked into him, the tickle of each breath on his chest and the complete chaos of the bed.

They were still knotted together, and he had salvaged one pillow for his head. His chest sufficed for Mary’s. The velvet coverlet was nowhere to be seen, the top sheet was long gone, and they lay wrapped in a bottom sheet.

A gentle knock at the door told him the maid was here with breakfast, and he called through the door for it to be left in the dining area.

‘Kalimera.’Mary smiled up at him.

‘Correct.’ He smiled too.

‘Only because I heard you calling out to the maid.’

‘Tee kanis?’Costa asked, and watched her frown as she tried to make out his words.

‘I know that one...’

It meant How are you?

Mary answered him in English. ‘I’m very well, thank you.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Completely.’

‘No regrets?’

‘None.’ Mary shook her head. ‘Not one single one. Well, I wish I’d had the chocolate cake, maybe...’

He laughed. ‘There will be plenty tonight,’ he said, and he stretched over her to reach for the phone. ‘I’ll cancel the pilot and...’

‘No.’ It was Mary who stopped him. ‘Please don’t do that.’

‘Why not?’ Costa said. ‘I thought you wanted to go to a party...’

‘I do.’

‘You can spend the day at the salon...’

‘What else will I do?’ Mary asked, and looked up at him.

And Costa, who had been about to guide her hand down and show her what else, knew he’d better be more cautious with his response. ‘What do you want to do, Mary?’

‘I want to know about you, spend time with you, talk to you—all the things you hate.’

‘There’s no point.’

‘Why?’

‘You know we’re going nowhere.’

‘I do know that,’ she said, ‘but I’m tired of sitting in salons.’

‘Then we’ll spend the day in bed.’

‘I actually want a little conversation either side of being—’ She stopped herself. ‘I think it best I leave...’

‘Of course.’

She climbed out of bed and knelt down to go through her cases, and he saw his own handprint on the inside of one thigh, pink from their coupling.

He’d cupped her in his palm afterwards, Costa recalled, as she headed to the shower. Mary was right to leave, he conceded, for last night they had crossed a line.

Not sexually. Costa had no issue with crossing lines there, and last night had, by his usual standards, been tame. Yet he felt as if he had taken a blindfold off, and was surveying the damage after some wild misadventure.

And then he recalled his own words.

‘I haven’t loved you yet.’

Costa swore!

Three times in a row, he cussed himself.

And then he dragged in a breath as he heard the shower taps close.

He padded out and poured them both coffee. He ate a pastry while doing so, then brought the cups and a plate and got back into bed.

‘There,’ he said, when she came out dressed in a tiny bikini. She looked utterly perfect, all trace of the night gone. ‘Some coffee.’

‘No, thanks.’ Mary left the bedroom and eyed the breakfast selection. She poured some juice instead, then stuffed some cheese into a bread roll and stood in his lounge eating it.

Last night had been more magical than she’d dared to dream and she did not want the memory of it destroyed. But it was part of a deal she could no longer keep, and she tried to work out how to say goodbye.

And smile.

And not cry.

Oh, she’d done this so many times growing up. She should be an expert.

She swallowed the bread, gulped down her juice and took a breath before heading back to the navy bedroom.

Go, girl!

‘The helicopter’s at ten?’ Mary checked, as if she were ascertaining the time of the next bus.

‘Correct,’ he said, as she went to her bag and took out some suntan cream.

‘Well, I’m going to have a lovely hour at the beach, and then Athens here I come... I shall be raiding the minibar and staying in,’ she said, and smiled, because she would be sleeping alone for a very long time—however many decades it took her heart to process him. ‘So I hope you really have booked me a room with a gorgeous view.’

‘I don’t get you, Mary. Everything that we agreed to...’

‘Has changed,’ Mary stated.

‘Because of what happened here...?’ He gestured to the disaster of his bed.

‘No, because of what happened there...’ She pointed to the guestroom. ‘I told you my truth and it was wonderful not to be scorned or laughed at or looked down on.’ She rubbed cream into her calves as she spoke. ‘If you can’t reciprocate then that’s that.’

She pulled on an oversized sundress—the one thing of her own she had brought to the island—a gorgeous floppy hat, thanks to Leo, and the sunglasses which she’d bought during her splurge at the airport.

‘You look very English.’ Costa smiled reluctantly.

‘Because I am.’

‘You really want to go?’

‘Yes.’ She gave him a half-smile. ‘Thank you for the most wonderful night. I honestly mean that. And, please, give my love to Yolanda...’

‘She’ll be upset.’

‘Please!’ Mary snorted as she squeezed out a dollop more cream. ‘The locals will be waving flags when you turn up alone. I’m sure you can handle them.’

Only it wasn’t the locals or tonight that was suddenly on his mind. It was Mary, who seemed happy to chat as she rubbed cream into the backs of her thighs.

‘You don’t need all that sunscreen,’ he snapped.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘It’s early morning and not even summer.’

‘I burn easily.’ Mary shrugged.

‘You don’t, though.’

‘I’m very fair,’ she refuted.

‘You’re tougher than you look, Mary...’ And he was not talking about the spring sun. ‘You can be anything you want...’

‘I hope to be,’ Mary said. ‘Will you be gone when I get back?’

‘I have to go and get a shave and get my stitches taken out...’ He stopped then, for they did not require the details of each other’s day. ‘Yes.’

So this was it.

Mary looked at Costa, all sulky in bed, and wished she could join him. She wished she could suspend her heart for thirty-six more hours. But it was already killing her to leave.

She really had been practising her Greek, and had chosen the farewell that she hoped best fit.

‘Sto kaló!’

Costa just lay there as she said it. Not Goodbye, nor See you soon, or We’ll speak again. Instead she was wishing him well, or rather telling him Go to a good place.

‘You too,’ he told her.

‘Mary?’ he called her back. ‘There’s something for you in the top drawer...’

‘What?’

‘I got you a phone. You’ll need one if you’re looking for work.’

‘Wow!’ Mary said, without her usual enthusiasm. She didn’t even open the drawer to look. ‘Thank you, I guess.’

He could breathe now that she’d gone. Except there was a gentler farewell too, a more affectionate one, that might have been more fitting, but he dared not use it. And there was still the sweet scent of coconut sunscreen, and when he topped up his coffee he saw that her magnet was still on the fridge.

Costa did admire her.

He might have said it a touch sarcastically last night, yet now, as he wandered to the windows and stood there watching her walk on his private stretch of beach, he realised he really did admire her.

Her hat was being used to collect shells, and she was lost in her own world rather than glancing anxiously back to his. She sought her own happiness and made it herself.

Mary had been planning on changing her life long before he’d come along. This weekend had merely expedited things—and, although he might not recommend her methods for securing it, who the hell didn’t want sex?

She had taken off the loose white dress now and was venturing into the water. He was tempted to stand like a lifeguard and ensure she was safe as she ventured out. His concern was merited, Costa told himself, given that she couldn’t swim.

But she was just splashing in the shallows, watching the surf and enjoying the day. Then she moved a little further out, testing the water.

The water was bliss.

It was cool on her sex, where it stung a tiny bit, but then all pain just faded away.

The water was so clear that Mary could see little coloured fish darting about, and she was waist-deep now. She felt a ledge of sand beneath her feet and, unsure of the depth, just stood there, lost in her thoughts. Because she was here, and she was sad, so sad, to be leaving far too soon.

But as she scooped water into her hands she knew that whether it was today, tomorrow or next year, it would always kill her to leave.

Not the water, nor the luxury or the beauty...it would kill her to leave him.

And then there was movement, a splash, the rush of approach and the wild thrill of surprise. It was so sudden she could not turn round, so exhilarating that there was no time to scream, for she was being scooped up in his arms and he was carrying her out.

‘Costa...’

She found her voice and felt his hot skin, the energy of his strong body and the sudden, unexpected joy of the moment. He lifted her high and then threw her into the waves. The water engulfed her, but all she felt was joy returning to her veins and the pumping of a happy heart and the sound of laughter.

‘What was that?’ she asked as he caught her wrists and dragged her, breathless, towards him.

‘I couldn’t resist.’

They stood facing each other, smiling, and then he heard the helicopter buzzing overhead.

‘I want you there tonight,’ he admitted. ‘So that you get your party.’

And if that meant sharing his life with her, just for a short while, it was a price he found he was more than willing to pay.

They played some more in the water. He put her up on his shoulders and she said she felt as if she was on the top of the world. They kissed in the water, like true lovers, and then, sandy and wet, headed back to the villa.

‘We’ll go up to the hills,’ Costa said, but she’d stopped in her stride, because Nemo was there.

‘I don’t want him driving us,’ she said.

‘No, no,’ Costa said. ‘He’s here to collect your cases. I’ll tell him it was a mix-up.’

Nemo did not seem best pleased by the news, and shot her a look before sauntering off.

‘Have you told the helicopter pilot?’ she asked.

‘I’ll do so now,’ Costa told her. He was about to suggest she put on some shorts, but she looked so happy in her casual loose sundress that he didn’t want to. ‘Come on.’

They took one of the hotel scooters—a mode of transport that Costa knew well.

‘Don’t we need helmets?’ Mary asked.

‘I don’t even think they exist in Anapliró...’ He shook his head and laughed, but then he saw her expression.

And in that moment something changed in him.

Everythingchanged.

‘I’ll find some.’

They put on their helmets and she clung to his bare back as they zipped along the ocean road. It was an experience she would never forget. He took the mountain route and they climbed higher, to where the air was cooler, with spectacular views of the bay spread out beneath them. He pulled over and they stared down on a theatron.

‘Galen and I would train there,’ he said, ‘to get fit for the military.’

‘Can we go down there?’

‘No time.’

They zoomed off again and she was breathless from sheer happiness. Though she knew next to nothing about him, there was such a sense of freedom and promise in the air as he took her hand.

‘Our latest rival,’ Costa said as he pulled in at a restaurant. ‘Come on.’

‘We’re not suitably dressed,’ Mary said, although that hadn’t stopped him. ‘They’re busy,’

The staff were dashing around everywhere, even though there were no customers, but it soon transpired that they were getting ready for tonight.

A harried-looking chef came out. ‘Costa Leventis?’

It was clear they had not met before, and they chatted for a moment before the chef headed off.

‘I told him we want to sample tonight’s food,’ said Costa. ‘He’s packing a basket...’

‘A picnic?’

‘Yes.’

‘Your yaya lived up here?’

‘A little further up,’ Costa told her. ‘That is where we are headed.’

The chef returned with a picnic box, which Costa strapped to the back of the scooter. They both got on after expressing their thanks, and they carried on up the mountain.

It took another fifteen minutes or so and then he turned off onto a small road which Mary noticed was freshly paved. Costa halted the scooter and she watched as gates opened on their approach.

Mary was confused. Hadn’t he grown up poor? This was as lush as any villa at the retreat, and the gardens were vast and beautifully planted.

‘Where are we?’ Mary asked.

‘This is my mother’s gift for tomorrow,’ Costa explained. ‘If you knew the hell I’ve gone through to keep this secret...’ he explained. ‘Roula is the only one who knows.’

Bloody Roula, Mary thought.

‘Let’s go and see...’ He took out some keys and unlocked the door.

They walked through the cool villa, which was a mixture of old and new. Antique ornaments sat next to a gorgeous picture of Yolanda on the beach, laughing as she caught a wave. And on the white mantelpiece were smiling photos—some of Costa. He had been a big baby, and that made Mary smile. There were also pictures of a younger Yolanda with friends.

‘Are there any of your father?’

‘Yolanda would just smash them. I don’t have many good memories of my father.’ He put his arm around her. ‘You have some good ones of yours, though.’

‘I do...’ Mary nodded. She was starting to remember them now. It felt as if this short time away, the space to breathe, was allowing her to look back on things differently. ‘He was always so together; now he’s just a shell.’

‘Poor man,’ Costa said.

She had never heard anyone speak of her father with empathy, let alone kindness, and it made her feel a little muddled as they headed outside and sat by a stream.

The air was so fresh and clear and they could see for miles—the azure ocean below, and the retreat, and the tiny white puffs of cloud that were burning off even as she gazed up at them.

‘Eat,’ Costa said. ‘Here’s your chocolate cake...’

There was soumatha to drink—an almond syrup topped with icy sparkling water—and so many delicacies to try. Mary looked over to Costa and knew that even with the pain of the goodbye to follow, this would always be the best day of her life.

For now Costa let her in...

‘There are a few main families on the island.’ He pointed his finger to the expanse that stretched around and beneath them. ‘The Kyrios family way over there. Then the Drakos family have some of the western shore.’ He pointed towards the village: ‘The Barios family.’ He guided her to the thick trees behind the retreat. ‘That land was owned by the Hatzis family.’ Then he tapped the ground.‘Here and some of the shore was Argyros. There were others, but those five had most of the land. It was worth nothing then. Oh, and Jimmy had the hotel, but he’s gone now.’

‘Jimmy?’

‘Came here for a holiday and never left.’

‘What about the Leventis family?’ Mary asked.

He shook his head. ‘The only thing they owned was a poor reputation. They moved to the mainland long ago, but my father returned on occasion. He was a drifter,’ Costa explained. ‘But my mother was Yolanda Argyros and got into trouble at fifteen—that trouble being him...and subsequently me. There was a lot of pressure on them to marry.’

‘From her parents?’

‘From everyone. I think he tried to settle. He worked over on Santorini,’ Costa said. ‘And he made some good money for a while—at least by Anapliró standards. He took the ferry each morning, but then he started to forget to come home one too many nights. Still, that secret stayed in the family. My yaya was a mean-spirited woman,’ he told her. ‘She punished my mother and shamed her.’

‘For getting pregnant?’

‘For that, and for her husband leaving, for being ill, for needing medicine... She choked on a chicken bone a couple of years back, thank God, or she’d have lived to be a hundred.’

‘Costa!’

‘What?’ he said. ‘I’m cold because I don’t pretend to love someone who didn’t deserve it?’

‘No...’ She didn’t know what to say. She did not want half-truths, or for him to feel he had to hide anything from her.

‘I worked hard...got lots of jobs. I made sure my mother always had her medicine, and every six months I got her to Athens to see a specialist.’

‘How?’

‘Catching fish, gutting fish, selling fish...’ He didn’t tell her how the fishermen had at first laughed at the skinny kid who had pleaded for work. ‘I loved night fishing, and those men turned out to be the best teachers. At night we would listen to the laughter carrying from the parties on the yachts, where they were all deciding our fate...’ He saw her frown. ‘Someone developing the island was just a matter of time. We all knew it. “You should be at those parties, Costa,” they would say to me. I told them I intended to be.’

He lay back and she sat still, just watching him thinking.

‘You can’t just rock up, though,’ Costa said. ‘Everyone aboard is vetted. You have to be seriously rich or, if you’re just a worker, you have to sign NDAs.’

‘Were you a worker?’ Mary asked, her throat feeling tight.

He shook his head, ‘No. I worked in the restaurant kitchens in Santorini and then I would sleep on the beach and be up for when the night boats came in. I would hose down the rich men’s yachts too. There was no chance of getting on them, but I was always listening. Then I came out of the army and I was hot.’

‘But not modest?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘There was no time to be. Galen and I got office space in Athens and I worked it on the islands. I didn’t have much money, but I looked good and some owners paid me to eat in their restaurants, go to their clubs...’ He looked up. ‘The right ones.’

‘I’ve never been to a club.’

‘Stay out of the ones I went to, because in your case they’d be the wrong ones.’

‘Leo said you wore his designs?’

‘Yes. I wore smart clothes, showed them off to the necessary people, got to know them. I always knew the island’s potential, but I also knew that in the wrong hands it could be destroyed by too many footsteps. I had a couple of bits of land by then, bought for loose change, really, and most of the locals trusted me. I had a share in Jimmy’s bar, I had this land—not in my name yet, but it was in my family...’ He looked at Mary. ‘And I had anger fuelling me.’

She sighed. ‘That’s a terrible source of fuel.’

‘Not always,’ he disagreed. ‘I knew where I was headed and I worked on getting there. I dated a woman who had access to some information.’

‘Were you using her?’

‘She was forty. I was just out of the military, not even twenty, and wearing Leo’s designs.’ He shrugged. ‘We were using each other, I guess. She finally got me into a party I wanted to go to. I knew Ridgemont would be there. He called the island a slag heap—as you well know.’

Mary nodded, forgetting her chocolate cake.

‘“Yes,” I agreed, “it’s a slag heap.” Then he told me about the “peasants”, who wanted too much for their land. I agreed with him again, pretended I’d blown far too much on it already.’ He gave her the tiniest wink. ‘But...’

‘But?’

‘That’s it. Time to party.’

She pressed into his side, prodding him for more, but he just laughed and pulled her down to him. ‘Seriously... Two weeks later he put in a high offer to the Hatzises for their land, but I already owned their shed...’

‘So they couldn’t sell?’

‘No—and anyway, they trusted me. Mary, I opened Ridgemont’s letter of offer to them. We were all laughing.’

He pulled her onto his stomach and she looked down at him.

‘Same with Jimmy. We got so wasted that night...’ He looked up at her and slid her down. ‘That bar, it was on the exact spot where you lost your virginity, Mary.’

‘Wow.’ She was stroking the little hairs on his stomach and then she asked, ‘And the Kyrios family?’

‘They always held out for more. They still do,’ Costa said. ‘It didn’t matter in the end. I wanted this side of the island the most.’

Suddenly he was tired of talking and perhaps she sensed it, for he felt her hands move down.

He watched as she took him out and then he looked up at her, at her mouth and the tentative lick of her lips. ‘Go on.’

‘I don’t know how.’

‘There’s no rush. Just begin, and it will all go from there.’

Costa wanted this the most now.