by Tarr, Hope
After some argument, the driver finally accepted her dismissal and drove away.
Sagging against the side of the building, she considered what to do, or rather where to go next. Home was the obvious choice, only she didn’t want to be alone. Crawling into bed and pulling the covers over her head, covers that still smelled of Nick, probably wouldn’t be all that consoling. For the time being, dropping in on her pop was out of the question. Confronting Jacquie could wait until she was calm. An ice-cream shop where she could binge her way through the flavors? Georgetown was lousy with bars to suit every age group and preference. Too bad she wasn’t much of a drinker. Regardless of which poison she picked, she wasn’t getting very far with only one shoe. If the hotel gift shop sold condoms, did it also sell flip-flops?
In the midst of pondering the possibilities, her cell phone went off. She thought about ignoring it, but what if it was Nick? Upstairs in his suite, she’d been too blindsided to do much in the way of defending herself. Not that she was blameless, she wasn’t, but she also wasn’t the Mata Hari he seemed to think her.
She opened her bag. Rooting around the envelope he’d given her, she dug out her phone. The caller wasn’t Nick. It was Macie.
“Hey, Stef, I just wanted to check in and wish you luck tonight.”
She’d thought she was done with crying but when she opened her mouth to answer, instead of words, sobs spilled out. “Oh, Macie, I…he…I…”
“Stef, where are you?”
“The…F-Four…Seasons.”
“Listen to me, just listen. Do not drive. You’re way too upset to get behind the wheel. Have one of the hotel porters put you in a cab and tell the driver to bring you to my place, okay?”
“B-but Ross—”
“Would say the same thing if he were here, only he’s not. He’s out of town. I’m here chaperoning Sam’s sleepover. I could use some adult company. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
“O-okay.”
Hanging up, Stefanie shuffled over to the cab queue. The uniformed porter took one look at her and led her to the front of the line. “Sorry, folks, the lady has an emergency,” he said to the waiting guests, some sympathetic, others irate.
Stefanie thanked him, passed him several crumpled dollars from her purse, and got in. Ten minutes later, she stood in the hallway outside Ross and Macie’s condo.
Macie met her at the door. “Oh my God, honey, come right in.”
Crossing the threshold, it struck Stefanie that, other than the surviving Cinderella slipper she’d held onto, she was coming into someone’s home empty-handed for the first time in years—no coolers or food chests or handled bags. Her arms felt as empty as her heart.
“I lost…” She wanted to say Nick but instead she held out the red sling back. “Your shoe.”
Macie’s arm went around her. “Don’t worry about it. Maddie’s shoes have had a good long run. Maybe it’s time to retire them and the legend.”
Stefanie fought to firm her trembling lips. “The fairy tale, you mean?”
Macie guided her over to the breakfast bar and gestured for her to sit. An open bottle of wine and a box of tissues had been set out. Half-full bags of processed snacks—popcorn, chips, and candy—crowded the countertops. Thinking of all the empty calories and preservatives, Stefanie suppressed a shudder. Then she remembered the reason Macie was at home—Sam’s sleepover.
She glanced around the deserted dining area and living room. The condo was as quiet as a library. “Don’t tell me I chased away the party?”
Macie looked up from opening the wine. “I relocated Sam and her friends to the event room. Fortunately no one’s booked it tonight. They love it down there. It has a Ping-Pong table, a pool table, and a wide-screen TV even more gargantuan than ours. For all I know, they’re down there watching porn, but at least I know they’re safe.”
Impressed, Stefanie asked, “When did you get so good at this stuff?” A year ago, Macie had been a self-avowed single girl. She was no Julia Child, but she seemed to have struck an impressive balance between her busy work and home lives.
Macie paused in pouring their wine. “You were right all along. Being part of a family changes everything.”
Stefanie reached for a tissue. “I said that?”
“Yes, you certainly did. It was great advice, so let’s see if I can return the favor.” She slid one very full glass of red across the counter. “First, talk to me.”
Stefanie bracketed the wineglass between shaking hands. Between sips of Shiraz, she poured out her predicament, starting with Pete’s Ponzi scheme.
Macie piped up. “I never did like that guy. He had beady eyes—and a seriously weak chin.”
Stefanie didn’t disagree. “There’s…more.” She filled Macie in on her father’s business dealings with Nick’s, his inability to repay the loan in full, and Stefanie’s plan to seduce Nick up with her food and flirting.
Macie let her finish and then said, “I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but I think your father should have manned up and met with Nick on day one.”
Setting down her glass, Stefanie shook her head. “He was hoping to bring on additional investors and get the bank to extend his credit line. He’s even taking out a second mortgage on the house. And let’s not forget that I’m the one who got him into this fix in the first place.”
“Not you, Pete,” Macie corrected.
Rather than debate their relative roles, Stefanie sipped her wine. It must be a testimony to how high her adrenaline had spiked that she wasn’t even buzzed by now. “Pop just asked me to stall him. The seduction thing was all my idea,” she admitted, hoping confession was indeed good for the soul. Miserable though she was, it was a relief to unburden herself to someone she could trust.
Stefanie blew out a breath. “ I figured I’d be helping out my pop and getting myself out of my post-Pete slump. I never expected for things to get so…out of hand. I know we’ve only known each other a week, but the thing is I have…feelings for him.”
Macie’s crack of laughter took her aback. “Feelings schmeelings, you’re in love with the guy.”
Stefanie felt her face flame. “I don’t know about that.” That she—they—might be headed toward falling in love had seemed pretty appealing at the start of the evening. Given what had gone down in Nick’s suite, it no longer seemed like such a smart idea.
“Well I do. And guess what? If he didn’t have feelings for you, too, the thought of you doing him just to get your dad out of his debt wouldn’t make him so freaking crazy. He’d take the sex from you and the company from your father and head back to Greece, mission accomplished.”
Until now Stefanie hadn’t thought of it that way. “You really think so?”
“I know so.”
Topping off their glasses, Macie added, “So, Cinderella, the way I see it, you’re down one magic slipper and one possible Prince Charming. What’s your game plan?”
Stefanie didn’t answer. Whatever her plan shaped up to be, she was pretty sure it involved going back to the Four Seasons for her shoe—and Nick.
Chapter Ten
“You will have one-third of the repayment money within the next two weeks, perhaps sooner,” Christos promised. “You have my word—and that of my banker.”
Stefanie’s father sounded sincere, still Nick would withhold any victory celebration until he held the check in his hand. “I will expect you in my suite tomorrow morning at eight o’clock—and please be certain to bring your delightful wife with you.”
Clicking off the call, Nick paced the four corners of his suite, carrying Stefanie’s shoe with him. Preoccupied, he didn’t hear Mara walk up.
“Papa, can I try on the pretty shoe?”
Startled, he spun about to see her standing in the archway. “It is too big for you, darling. Besides, you are supposed to be resting. You have a cold.”
He’d returned home in the wee hours of that morning, dismissed the sitter with his apologies and a healthy bonus, a
nd checked in on his daughter. Her slightly warm forehead and congested breathing had struck him at once. Likely just a case of the sniffles, but being a novice father bestirred him to err on the side of caution.
But stubbornness was a Costas family trait, and it seemed Mara had inherited her share. She tucked her little arms in front of her and dug in her booties. “It’s Stefanie’s, isn’t it?”
Defeated, Nick nodded. “It is.”
Seemingly satisfied, she yawned. “Where is the other one?”
“I cannot say for certain.” It was with Stefanie, he hoped.
Mara persisted. “When is she coming again?”
Setting the shoe aside, he went down on one knee, putting them on eye level. “I am afraid she isn’t.”
The sleepy look left her eyes. Her face crumpled. “Not ever? You mean like my mommy?”
Nick’s heart twisted. He stroked her hair, trying his best to console her. “We have only known Stefanie for a week. She is a…friend, not family.”
“She could be. If you asked her to marry us, she could live with us all the time.”
Another twist of the knife. “I do not think she would say yes. America is her home just as Greece is ours.”
Expression mutinous, Mara insisted, “You can still ask her! Ask her when you give her back her shoe. That’s what true princes do.”
She stuck out three fingers and pointed to the animated picture fronting her pajama top. Cinderella sat perched upon her stool before her kneeling prince as he slipped the glass slipper on her slender foot. If only real life were so simple.
Improbably, Nick felt his eyes filling. “I am afraid your papa is no prince, Mara,” He said, thinking of how he’d dismissed Stefanie not only from his life but from Mara’s too without affording her an opportunity to explain herself.
No, Nick was no prince. His behavior was that of a frog.
Feeling like he’d been stabbed in the heart, he managed to get Mara settled back into bed, not before reading her a story, of course.
Just his luck, she begged for Cinderella.
…
Nick’s call to Stefanie came later that night as she was settling into Macie’s spare bedroom. With half a bottle of red wine in her stomach and not much else, spending the night had been the smart thing to do. She’d just peeled off the crumpled red dress and pulled on her borrowed sleep shirt and sweat pants when her cell sounded.
Sitting on the side of the bed, she reached for the phone. Seeing Nick’s name pop up sent her heart into her throat. “H-hi.”
“Hi. I am not calling too late? You were not sleeping?” He still sounded stressed if no longer angry.
“No, I’m still up.” Dropping her voice in case any of Sam’s sleepover friends might be stirring, she added, “For the record, going to bed with you wasn’t part of my plan. By that point, it was just about us. And I never once manipulated you through Mara. I’ve loved every minute I spent with her.” That those minutes were now all in the past tore at her heart.
He hesitated. “Did you really…how do you say it, make yourself over for me?”
Oh God! She hugged the pillow against her. “I changed my hair and got rid of my glasses and bought different clothes and learned to apply makeup.” She declined to point out that she’d also gotten the waxing for him as well. Okay, maybe not for him but more in the way of a confidence booster.
“Why?”
Stefanie bit her lip. “Isn’t it obvious?”
From the online pictures she’d seen, Nick had been born beautiful. The Greek newspaper photo accompanying his baptismal announcement was worthy of a Pampers ad. How did an ugly duckling explain the lure of looks to someone who’d been born a swan?
“You are a beautiful woman, Stefanie, with or without makeup—or clothes,” he added with a hint of mischief.
He’d certainly made her feel beautiful the other night.
“I am meeting with your father and the other board members in my suite at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I would very much like for you to be there as well. Will you come?”
Throat tight, she answered, “Yes, of course I’ll be there.”
“Good.” He hesitated. “It is late. I will leave you to your rest.”
As if she could sleep now. “Good night—kali nichta.”
He didn’t answer. Ending the call, Stefanie acknowledged that missing the meeting would be unthinkable, and not only because she was a voting member of Olympia’s board.
Tomorrow might well be her last chance to say good-bye to Nick in person.
…
Wednesday, July 9
The following morning in Nick’s suite started out as a mob scene. Jacquie had brought her insipid daughters along as well. Between cracking gum and complaining about the early hour and bemoaning the state of their “inheritance,” Nick was tempted to phone the concierge and inquire about engaging the sitter, not for Mara but for them.
He refused to begin until everyone stopped speaking at once.
Clutching a croissant from the room service breakfast cart, Mara piped up, “I’ll be quiet—promise.”
She made a show of stitching her lips closed with invisible needle and thread. Under other circumstances, the comical gesture would have had everyone laughing but no one seemed to be in a laughing mood, not even Stefanie.
Not for the first time since she’d arrived, Nick glanced over to her. Dressed in a navy silk jacket, pleated trousers, and a white collared blouse, she looked utterly feminine as well as all business. Beyond offering him a brief “kali mera” she hadn’t said a single word. Perched on one side of his sofa, she sat still and silent as a sphinx, her normally expressive face an unreadable mask. Nick feared the latter might not bode well for him.
Her father, a bear of a man with thick, graying hair and a barrel chest, was looking wan and not due to any flu. The porcelain coffee cup around which his big white knuckled hands were gripped might not survive the hour.
Holding each of their gazes in turn, Nick announced, “I am certain you are all anxious to know why I asked you here this morning.”
Jacquie spoke up, “Summoned us, you mean.”
Her husband turned to her, face fierce. “For once in your life, be silent, woman!”
Beneath the mask of makeup, her face froze. “But Chris—”
“Zip it!” Christos turned to Nick. “Please, continue.”
Nick acknowledged the courtesy with a nod. “I have a proposal for Olympia.”
Predictably every gaze in the room riveted on him including those of the curious ones of the two hotel waiters he’d asked to remain on standby. A pin dropping would have seemed like a shattering glass. The only person whose opinion he cared for was Stefanie’s. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted a widening of her beautiful brown eyes, but otherwise she remained perfectly poised.
“Now that I have received a check for partial payment—” he held up the check he’d received from Christos on his way in “—I have decided not to exercise my option to acquire your company. Provided the principal is repaid within the next year, Olympia will stay within the Stefanopoulos family.” The partial payment wasn’t enough to complete the orphanage but it was sufficient to break ground.
Hesitant hand clapping greeted that announcement. Christos spoke up. “That is very generous. And I want you all to know that in a few weeks, I should have raised an additional third of the 2.5 million, so you will not have to wait a whole year.”
Nick nodded. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. He directed his gaze out over the suite. “There is still the problem of cash flow to conquer. Based on my analysis of your P&Ls, you are going to have to do business very differently if you are to survive let alone thrive in a competitive marketplace.”
Face reddening, Christos interrupted with, “We are not a builder that cuts corners.”
Nick cut Stefanie a look. “Yes, I have been made aware of that. Nor would I suggest it.”
More mildly, Christos asked, “Then what do yo
u have in mind?”
“I want to assume oversight of the Acropolis Village project effective immediately. The environmental impact studies have already been approved, and your site plans and architectural designs are solid. With a sufficient infusion of capital, construction could be completed within the next year to eighteen months. My engineers, foreman, and workers can accomplish the task in half the time of your American construction crews and at a high quality.”
Christos mouth dropped open. “You want to invest even more money? How can this be? What do you want in return?”
Nick didn’t hesitate. “A seat on your board as well as equity shares.”
“Equity!” Jacquie gasped.
Ignoring her, he continued, “I intend to take an active role in restructuring the company so that it can become profitable once more.”
Arms folded over her chest, Jacquie demanded, “What kind of restructuring?”
This time he answered, though he addressed the room at large. “A return to solvency will require an immediate cutting of costs internally, beginning with the board.”
Jacquie had served as the bookkeeper for the last several years. The Ponzi scheme had catapulted the company into crisis mode, true enough, but even before it, money had been going missing. Though he’d yet to make public his suspicions, a second set of books seemed a possibility.
“Effective immediately, there will be no more expensed lunches to five-star restaurants, no more ‘wardrobe perks,’ and no more overseas travel ostensibly to scout locations for future development projects,” he said, recalling a few of the costly line items that an earlier cursory review of the corporate ledger had brought to light. The full audit he meant to have conducted would likely reveal more.
Predictably, she scowled. “According to our bylaws, with the exception of our legal counsel, only members of the Stefanopoulos family can sit on the board.”
