Читать книгу Greek for Beginners - Jackie Braun - Страница 11

THREE

Darcie was still on Nick’s mind the following day as he sat in his grandmother’s kitchen having a midmorning snack of freshly baked koulourakia portokaliou. The sweet, orange-flavored cookies were a staple in Yiayia’s house, precisely because they ensured company.

His parents were there as well. George and Thea Costas lived right next door. In fact, Nick’s entire extended family was clustered together in a small geographic area on the western edge of Athens. True to tradition, Pieter already owned a house just down the road. In two short weeks, he and Selene would live in it together as husband and wife.

Even the sweetness of the cookie wasn’t enough to wipe out the bitter taste in Nick’s mouth.

“Your tea is growing cold,” Yiayia said, interrupting his thoughts. The snow-white hair coiled on her head made a striking contrast to her usual black frock. Sophia Pappas had been a widow for twenty-three years and still wore the color of mourning. She also considered it her duty as the family’s matriarch to meddle as she saw fit. “And you are frowning, Nikolos. Is something wrong with my cookies?”

“Nothing is wrong with your cookies.” He took another bite and smacked his lips for emphasis. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“This is a difficult time for you.” His grandmother nodded sagely.

“Only because everyone insists on making it so.”

“Have you given any more thought to Pieter’s request?” his mother asked.

It took an effort not the crush the cookie that remained in his hand. Pieter wanted Nick to be his koumbaro or best man at the upcoming Greek Orthodox ceremony. As such, it would be Nick who put the crowns on Pieter and Selene’s heads and switched them back and forth three times to symbolize their union.

Nick wanted no part of that. He couldn’t believe his brother even had the nerve to ask.

“I have said no too many times to count, Mama.”

She frowned. “I wish you would reconsider. He is your brother, Nick. Your only brother.”

“Pieter conveniently forgot that when he started seeing Selene behind my back.”

“You were gone, Nick. You went to America to start your business,” Thea reminded him unnecessarily. “You told Selene you understood when she said she did not want to move to New York, too.”

What Nick understood was betrayal. Despite what he’d told Selene at the time, he’d held out hope that she would change her mind. In his heart, he’d believed that the two of them would marry eventually. Until Pieter.

“I will not be his koumbaro. Be happy that I have agreed to attend the wedding at all.”

“Be happy, be happy,” Yiayia chided with a shake of her head. “You would do well to listen to your own advice, my boy. You will not find a bride of your own if you do not look.”

“I can assure you, I do not lack for female companionship.”

“Take care how you speak around your grandmother,” George interjected gruffly.

Nick recognized the tone. It was the same one his father had used when Nick stepped over the line as a boy. He was over the line now, too. And so he apologized.

“I am merely trying to point out that if I wanted a wife I would have one.”

He wouldn’t call himself the black sheep of the family, but his wool was definitely dyed a different shade than his brother’s, much to his mother’s and Yiayia’s regret. In addition to his Manhattan apartment, Nick kept a house just outside Athens near the Aegean. His whitewashed home was situated on a hillside and boasted panoramic views of a harbor that was dotted with yachts and fishing boats. His mother claimed the view soothed his restless nature. In some ways, watching all of those boats sail out into open waters only fed it.

“The women you know in Manhattan are not proper wife material,” his mother said.

This was true enough, in part because at this point in his life, with a business to build and the related travel taking up so much of his time, he wasn’t ready to settle down.

Still, he couldn’t resist asking, “How do you know this, Mama? You have not met any of the women I have been with since Selene.”

“I do not need to meet them. I am your mother. I know.” Thea folded her arms.

He loved his family. He loved Greece. But ever since he’d sold that first automobile to a collector living in the United States more than a decade earlier, he’d known that he would never settle for the quiet and predictable life he would have endured living here and working with his father.

His family had never understood Nick’s obsession with classic cars and his desire to see them restored, much less the pleasure he took from connecting a collector with exactly what he or she sought. They were proud of him, certainly. Through hard work, shrewd investment and a little bit of luck, Nick had managed to turn his passion into a multimillion-dollar enterprise. They just wished he’d decided to base it in Athens rather than New York.

“Besides, those women are not Greek,” Yiayia said.

It boiled down to that for his grandmother. His mother, too, though she was less inclined to say so out loud. Both women wanted Nick to marry a nice Greek girl, preferably one from a family they knew, so that he would return home, buy a house nearby and settle in. It wasn’t going to happen, but that didn’t keep them from trying.

Sure enough, his mother was saying, “I saw Maria Karapoulos at the market yesterday. Her daughter Danika was with her. She has moved back from London. Her job there didn’t work out.”

“Just as well. They don’t know how to make a proper cup of tea in England,” Yiayia observed. Both women laughed. “How does Danika look? As pretty as ever?”

“Prettier,” Thea said. “She has lost some weight, and I think she has contacts now. She wasn’t wearing her glasses. She has such lovely eyes.”

“And she comes from a nice family,” his grandmother noted.

Nick sipped his tea and said nothing. The eyes he was thinking about were blue and belonged to Darcie.

His mother went on. “I invited her to the wedding. Her parents were already on the guest list. It seemed rude not to extend an invitation to her as well.”

“Good. Good. She will have fun at the wedding,” Yiayia said. “Especially if she has someone to dance with.”

Even though his tea was plenty sweet, Nick added a little more honey and tried to ignore the conversation going on around him. But he knew what was coming.

Sure enough, his grandmother added, “Nick could be her escort.”

He gave his tea a vigorous stir. “No.”

How many times must they go through this particular exercise before his mother and grandmother accepted that he didn’t need or want their help to find a date? He’d considered asking one of the local women to come with him just to get Thea and Yiayia off his back, but that posed a problem of its own. Thanks to all of the gossip, the single women in his social circle saw Nick as a challenge or as an object of pity. He didn’t want to be viewed as either.

He glanced over at his father, hoping for an ally, but George pushed his chair away from the table and rose. Motioning over his shoulder, he said, “The drain in the bathroom sink is running slow. I promised your grandmother I would take a look at it.”

“I will give you a hand,” Nick offered.

But George shook his head. “No. You finish your tea. I can manage on my own.”

“Thank you, Papa,” Nick drawled sarcastically.

His father stopped at the doorway. “You might listen to your mother, you know. I remember this Danika she speaks of. The girl comes from a good family. You could do worse.”

Now there was a recommendation. The room was quiet after his father’s exit. Nick was just starting to think the topic had been dropped when his mom said, “You are not going with anyone. It would be a shame for two young, single people to attend alone.”

Yiayia clapped her hands together. “So it is settled. Nikolos will take her.”

“No. I will not take her.”

“No?”

Nick blotted his mouth with a napkin and worked to keep his tone civil. “I am not going to take Danika or any of the other women you two have suggested to the wedding. I have said no and I mean no.”

“No! No! Always no!” His grandmother gestured with her arms before demanding, “Give us one good reason why not.”

A curvy young woman with deep blue eyes, killer legs and a thick, wavy mane of hair came to mind and inspiration struck.

“I have a date.”

Both older women blinked in surprise. His mother was the first to find her voice. “You have a date?” she asked skeptically.

“For the wedding?” Yiayia added, her tone equally dubious.

Lying did not come easily to Nick, no matter how good he considered the cause, so he answered her question with one of his own. “Is that so hard to believe? I am not repulsive, you know.”

“You are as handsome as Adonis,” his mother affirmed, undeterred. “But just yesterday you stormed out of here after the grocer’s daughter happened by and your yiayia invited her in for a cup of tea.”

“Happened by?” His brows rose. “She was dressed for cocktails, not tea. It was a setup. I do not appreciate your matchmaking. Nor do I need your help, as well-intentioned as it may be.”

Thea sighed. Nick hoped that was a sign that the matter would be dropped, at least for now. Unfortunately, his grandmother wasn’t done.

“Who is this woman you have invited to your brother’s wedding? When did this happen? You have not mentioned her before.”

Since nothing had actually happened yet and very well might never, Nick decided to answer Yiayia’s other question first. “You do not know her. She is an American.”

“American.” His grandmother put a hand to her chest and frowned.

“It is not a disease, you know.” He chuckled, hoping both to lighten the mood and to divert the conversation. Neither woman cracked a smile, however.

“You know her from New York?” Thea asked.

“Actually, I met Darcie in Greece.” Which wasn’t a lie. He saw no need to mention when or where.

“Darcie. What kind of a name is Darcie?” Yiayia’s frown deepened. “It does not sound like a Greek name.”

His mother had other concerns. “Does she live in Athens?”

“No. She came here on holiday.”

When his conscience bucked, he rationalized that he wasn’t lying to his mother and grandmother. He was merely offering a selective version of the truth.

“What does she do for a living?” Yiayia inquired.

“She works at a car magazine.” Beyond that, Nick knew precious little about Darcie Hayes other than the fact that he found her very attractive. At the moment, he also found her his ticket out of a tight spot. “I tell you what. I will bring her by some time and you can ask her all of these questions yourselves.”

He thought he was off the hook, or at the very least had delayed his day of reckoning. Yiayia dispelled that notion.

“Good. I will set an extra plate for supper.”

“S-supper?” he sputtered. “Tonight?”

“We will eat at seven.”

“Come early,” his mother added with an eager smile that sent his insides churning.

What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Darcie had forced herself to stay awake until 9:00 p.m. the previous evening. She’d called Becky as promised and explained about her changed itinerary, after which she had collapsed face-first on the bed and slept like the dead. When she awoke just before ten o’clock the following morning she had a deep crease from the sheets across her right cheek, but after nearly thirteen hours of uninterrupted slumber she felt almost human. She also was starving again.

If the tour had panned out as advertised, she already would have enjoyed a buffet breakfast with her fellow travelers and been boarding an air-conditioned motor coach headed for the Parthenon on the Acropolis. She showered and dressed, donning tan shorts and a fitted white T-shirt before lacing up a pair of sneakers. For one moment she allowed herself to picture the floral sundress and new sandals in her missing luggage. Shaking off her wistfulness, she headed for the door, eager to leave the hotel and start exploring. The day before, she’d been too exhausted to do more than walk up the block from the hotel to a small market that the concierge had recommended. She’d bought bread and fresh fruit. Today, she was in the mood for a real meal and ancient ruins.

It came as a total surprise when the first sight to greet her when she entered the lobby was Nick Costas striding purposefully through the main door. He broke into a smile that made her knees weak. It buoyed her ego that he appeared so pleased to see her.

“Darcie. Excellent. You are still here.”

“Hello, Nick. Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” He shook his head. “Not at all.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why do I sense a but coming?”

“Because you are too perceptive.” He laughed. “You were on your way out.”

“Yes. To eat.”

“May I join you?”

“Okay. I should warn you that I’m not sure exactly where I’m going. I was just planning to wander around until I found a restaurant that looked appealing.”

“May I make a suggestion then?”

“By all means.”

“I know a wonderful spot not far from here that makes the best moussaka.”

“Moussaka. My favorite,” she said, although she had no idea what it was. Intrigued by both the meal and the man, Darcie agreed.

Nick took her to an out-of-the-way café that made her feel as if she had stepped back in time thanks to the building’s neoclassical architecture. Conversations stopped as they wound their way to a table in the back of the small, crowded establishment. Darcie got the feeling she was the only tourist among the patrons. After giving her a cursory glance, however, the other guests returned their attention to their own tables.

A waiter appeared not long after they settled in their seats and took their order. She asked for the moussaka, in part because Nick had recommended it, and because she was unfamiliar with the other items on the menu. He ordered the same, as well as coffee for the pair of them and a bottle of sparkling water.

“I get the feeling I’m in store for an authentic Greek meal,” she said once they were alone.

“You are. I hope you like it.”

Her stomach was growling loud enough to be embarrassing. “I’m sure I will,” she told him. “Um, what exactly is moussaka?”

His rich laughter rumbled. The sound was pleasing, especially since she didn’t feel his amusement came at her expense.

“It is a dish made with eggplant. Do you like eggplant?” he asked.

“I love it. Yum.”

She’d eaten it...once. It had been breaded and pan-fried, and then slathered in Evelyn’s homemade tomato sauce and melted parmesan cheese. The indigestion Darcie had experienced afterward likely had been the result of Tad’s mother’s fault-finding throughout the meal rather than the food itself.

Nick apparently wasn’t fooled. “You are an adventurous one, I see. Willing to try new things.”

She liked his assessment, even if the speculative gleam in his eye gave her pause.

“I believe in being open-minded. Why not take a few chances?”

Nick smiled. “Why not indeed?”

A moment of silence passed as he studied her. She found it hard not to fidget given the intensity of his gaze. Was he picturing her naked? Darcie sucked in her stomach just to be on the safe side and found the courage to ask, “Perhaps you should tell me what’s on your mind.”

“A favor.”

“Oh.” She stopped holding in her stomach.

“You look disappointed?”

She brushed her hair back from her face. “Not at all. Ask away. Ask for anything. I owe you.”

This time his laughter was low, intimate and ridiculously arousing. “That is not the sort of thing you should tell a man, agapi mou. If I were without scruples, you could find yourself in trouble after making a statement such as that.”

Darcie was too intrigued and too attracted to Nick to be alarmed. Maybe it was the warmth that radiated from his dark eyes, or the slightly self-deprecating quirk of his sensual lips. She was sure he posed no threat to her safety. To her sanity? Well, that remained to be seen.

“But you do have scruples.”

“How can you tell?”

“A man without them would not have bothered to help me yesterday without asking for anything in return.”

“Yet here I am one day later, begging a favor.” His lips quirked again.

“Begging is different than demanding. A man without scruples would demand, I think.”

“I am glad you see it that way.” His expression sobered then. “You are certainly under no obligation to agree to my proposition. I want to make that perfectly clear from the outset.”

Proposition? The mere word, said as it was in that delicious accent, caused heat to curl low in Darcie’s belly. Sitting with Nick inside the little café, she felt worldly, sophisticated and a lifetime removed from the awkward young woman from Buffalo who had allowed herself to be browbeaten into inertia by Tad’s overbearing mother.

Darcie was pleased to find her voice was magnificently matter-of-fact when she replied, “It’s clear, Nick. So, what is this proposition of yours?”

“I would like to invite you to dinner tonight.”

“Dinner?” She blinked.

Maybe she’d heard him wrong. Darcie wasn’t disappointed, but she was somewhat surprised. Sharing another meal seemed, well, a little mundane given his dramatic lead-in. Maybe proposition had a different meaning in Greece than it did back in the United States. Or maybe she’d imagined the speculative gleam in his eyes. Or maybe she was just too long out of practice with members of the opposite sex to be able to figure out their intentions beyond mere flirting.

“Dinner. Yes.” He hesitated then before adding. “With my family.”

Her mouth fell open at that. She knew she was gaping, yet it was a full thirty seconds before she could force her lips to close. She’d dated Tad for more than a year before he’d taken her home to meet his mother. Little had she known then that he’d been doing her a favor. Still...

“Are you going to say anything?” Nick asked at last. A grin lurked around the corners of his mouth.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m just a little surprised by the invitation.”

“I have no doubt of that. We have only just met, after all. And it is a big favor to ask.”

The server returned with their bottle of water, a couple of glasses and two demitasse cups of coffee, forestalling her reply. Darcie took a sip of the coffee. It was stronger than she was used to, very sweet and hot enough that it burned her tongue. She barely noticed the pain. She was too preoccupied with the gorgeous man sitting across from her. Things like this didn’t happen to her. There had to be a catch. Or a camera crew lurking nearby, waiting to jump out and tell her she’d been punked.

She glanced around, ruled out a hoax and asked, “Why do you want me to meet your parents?”

“Not only my parents. My grandmother will be there as well.”

“Why not?” She lifted her shoulders. “The more the merrier.”

“Yes.” But there was nothing merry about his expression. He looked downright grim.

“So, um, why? Not that I’m not flattered by the invitation,” she hastened to assure him. “But I’m curious.”

“I told you that I was in Athens because my brother is to be married.”

She nodded. “In two weeks.”

“My mother and grandmother have had their heads together for months trying to find a date for me.”

“You can’t find one on your own?” Darcie winced as soon as the words were out. “What I mean is, so you are single.” She winced again and picked up her coffee, braving a second burn on her tongue if it would keep her from blurting out any more embarrassing remarks.

“I’m not in a relationship at the moment.” A pair of dark brows rose. “And you? I should have thought to ask if you are involved with anyone.”

“Nope. No one.”

And she had to admit, her emancipation—that was how she was coming to view it—felt pretty darned good right now. She was free. Free of Tad’s lukewarm affection and his mother’s passive-aggressive jabs. Free of her own mother’s well-meaning interference and her married sisters’ well-meaning advice. Free of self-doubt. Well, mostly free. Yes, Darcie was happily free to flirt, to enjoy the company of a handsome man and to accept, if she so chose, his invitation to dinner.

And she so chose.

His dark eyes warmed. “That is good. Very good.”

“Oh?”

“It would not do for me to be propositioning a woman who is already spoken for.”

“No worries there.” Feeling emboldened, she added, “I speak for myself these days.”

“Another reason to like you. Now, back to my predicament. My mother and grandmother mean well. They think I am pining.”

“Pining?” She didn’t like the sound of that. It implied another woman was in the picture.

He shook his head. “Perhaps lonely is a better word.”

Better, but improbable. “I don’t think so. You don’t look lonely to me.”

More to the point, men who looked like Nick Costas didn’t tend to get lonely. They tended to have smartphones filled with the names and numbers of women who were eager to share meals and mattress space.

Nick took a sip of his coffee. “Lacking for companionship,” he said at last.

Laughter bubbled out before she could stop it. “Sorry. I find that even harder to believe.”

“Unfortunately, my mother and grandmother are less inclined to see the truth. So, they have been...matchmaking. I told them I have no need for their help.”

“Because you can get your own dates.”

“Yes, as our lunch proves. But...” The corners of his mouth turned down and he shrugged.

“How do I figure into this?”

Darcie thought she knew, and she was already flattered, but since jumping to conclusions was her specialty, she decided a little clarification wouldn’t hurt. Besides, it would be really embarrassing if she was wrong.

“There is a woman who recently returned to Greece after living in London for a few years. My mother knows her mother, and has invited both of them to my brother’s wedding. Now I am expected to be her escort. I told her and my grandmother that I already have a date. You.”

The smile he sent Darcie could have melted a glacier. She shivered anyway and gooseflesh pricked her arms.

“Oh.” Her mouth threatened to fall open again. She kept it closed by putting her elbow on the tabletop and propping her chin on her fist.

“What is this look?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face.

She dropped the hand from her chin and busied herself lining up the cutlery next to her plate. “I was going for nonchalant, but I suppose you could call it gobsmacked.”

“Gobsmacked? I am not familiar with this term.”

“Um, it means shocked.”

“Because we barely know one another,” he guessed.

“Sure.” She moved the knife one-sixteenth of an inch to the right. “That reason will do.”

“It is a lot to ask, but I was hoping you would agree.” When she continued to fuss with her utensils, he reached across the table and settled his hand over hers. “I would be most grateful.”

Darcie glanced up and moistened her lips. It was all Nick could do not to moan. That sexy mouth of hers was going to be his undoing. The table was narrow enough that it would take little effort to lean across it and kiss her. It was tempting. She was tempting.

“I don’t speak Greek,” Darcie said, interrupting his fantasy.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure he could speak at all.

“Nick?”

He cleared his throat, bemused by the strange infatuation he felt. “That will not be a problem. Both of my parents are fluent in English, and my grandmother knows enough to get by. I can always translate if she does not understand something or if you do not.”

“That’s...good.”

And still she hesitated. So, he decided to sweeten the deal. “Have you had any luck getting a refund on your tour?”

“No. I left a message last night and planned to call again today.”