“Right this way.” She led them to the guest wing of the villa. The girls chattered about school and the flight—topics she’d put out of mind since arriving. Though she didn’t know what the future held, she couldn’t see herself going on as she had before Greece.
“Wow, this place is great,” Natalie said. “Dorian knows how to live. Cute dorms.”
“Do you want to stay here?” Jenn opened the door to a private bedroom in the bunkhouse. “You can have this one if you want, but the room you usually stay in is free too, right next to mine.”
Natalie wagged her eyebrows. “You’re in the main house? If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you had something on the side. I’ll stay inside—I love the view. Chelsea can take the private quarters. She’s been doing your job since you’ve been here. She’s a great little assistant.”
The emphasis on “ass” could have been in Jenn’s head, but she didn’t think so. Things between the two appeared more obvious, and she wondered if she’d missed dalliances in years past. She hadn’t realized Coach was a lesbian until the last year, too naïve to ever jump to such a conclusion, so she could have missed other details.
Chelsea stalked toward the bedroom and the other girls tossed their bags on the beds. Jenn had hoped to show them around more, but true to Natalie’s words, they looked exhausted.
“Let’s save the rest of the tour for later. Take the day off, ladies. Hit the pool, the shower, the bunks.” Natalie pulled her suitcase behind her. “I’m going to head to my room. I like you all very much, but there’s no way I’m missing staying in the guestroom—it’s gorgeous. Text me if you need anything. Otherwise, Jenn and Chelsea are in charge.”
“Jenn is in charge.” She added a smile, even though having her authority put on the same level as the bitchy coed bit her ass. “In Greece, I’m your liaison. Any questions?”
Chelsea snorted from where she leaned on the doorjamb. “None at all, Assistant Jenn.”
The girls shared wary glances with one another. They’d obviously gotten used to Chelsea taking over. Going along with her nonsense had to be easier than bucking her. Jenn didn’t have the inclination to take on Chelsea. Playing her game would make her think they belonged on the same court.
“Great,” she said. “My number is on the top page of the folders on your bunks along with numbers for household staff and information about local places you might want to visit. The schedule is also posted on the door. Please let me know if you have problems or questions.”
She headed out, not bothering to look over her shoulder. Natalie’s footfalls let Jenn know she followed as she made the exit she wanted.
Coach whistled when they were well away. “Feeling a little territorial?”
“Feeling professional, for sure,” she answered. “If you think I’m going to defer to Chelsea because of your personal relationship, you’d better take another look at my contract.”
Maybe Dorian is right about my being fragile. Her tolerance for bullshit scraped an all-time low. She stopped at her former room.
“Here you go. You also have an identical folder waiting for you. The Greeks will be here bright and early for drill work. I have a team-building outing planned for the late afternoon.”
Natalie nodded, looking her fifty years for a change. The weeks in Europe were always tough. Little sleep, hard work, and change—no matter if the fun matched—took a toll.
“Great, sounds like you’ve done everything on your end. Good work. If Chelsea gets out of line, do not defer to her. You’re paid staff, she’s a student. On the other hand, she is team captain, so let’s play nice.”
Jenn respected that Natalie saw the way things should be and wasn’t asking for special favors. If her relationships had involved students in the past, she probably knew how to handle problems. A person didn’t fiddle around for twenty years and maintain her job, at least not a woman in their competitive field.
“I’m up the hall if you need anything,” she said, thinking Dr. Arogos probably waited for her.
“I’m going to shower and crash.” Natalie headed into her room, closing the door behind her.
She could hope Natalie and Chelsea would leave each other alone, but didn’t count on it. She hurried past the bedrooms to find Dr. Arogos working on his handheld in the sitting room.
He tucked the stylus in its case. “I see you remembered. Dorian mentioned you had official business to see to this morning. All good?”
She closed the door and sat on the sofa across from him, the seat too familiar from sessions past. “Sure,” she answered. “I still can’t quite believe how high school grown adults can be.”
“Some people thrive on drama. Truly, without it, they wouldn’t know how to function. I believe we all need commotion on occasion or we become stale. Shall we?”
“Shall we what? You poke, I cry. You poke more, I get cranky. You poke and say something insightful, and I spend the rest of the day between pissed and crying?”
He laughed outright. “Well said. That sounds like proper progress. You’re feeling things, you’re facing emotion, and you’re embracing life again.”
“Yet I still feel slappy about physical expression.”
“Not as much.”
She nodded. After two weeks of therapy, she noticed the change. Could improvement be stolen away as quickly? “Can things happen too fast? Maybe something else is going to sprout up now that I can touch people again.” she said.
“Perhaps. Everyone is different and some do replace one vice with another. However, this isn’t easy for you. If the change came without struggle, I would wonder if we were ferreting out the real problems, but this one is pretty cut and dried.”
She picked at a string on her shorts, wishing her emotions would line up with the description. “Yeah, cut and dried.”
“The mind is an infuriating organ, but not always does it hide things. You’re an open woman with honest problems that are emerging in a practical and efficient manner. See how I connected all those words? Let’s do that in this session. I think we’ve hit the emotional side quite well. Let’s tie things together logically for you.”
By the time Dr. Arogos left, she wanted a big glass of wine and a nap. She didn’t bother showing him out. He’d gotten into the habit of leaving her in a puddle to decompress and, even though she wasn’t the crying mess she’d been earlier in the week, she still needed…time.
Chatting from the hall brought her out of deep thoughts. Dr. Arogos had recommended she get out of her head often, golden advice she would take to the bank.
Familiar voices speaking Greek filtered through the door and she hurried to it. Dorian stood in front of Augusta and Zoe with his hands on his hips.
“See, Papa, there she is. She’s fine.” Augusta stepped around her father and hugged Jenn.
Jenn held on, joy filling her heart. “You are gorgeous. I find it unfair that you get prettier every year.”
Augusta patted her back several times before pulling away, but kept one arm around her waist. Jenn felt a little thrill when she didn’t feel compelled to step back.
“Papa said you needed a break.” Augusta rolled her eyes. “He worries like an old woman sometimes. You two getting married this time around?”
A bark of disbelieving amusement came from somewhere in Jenn. “What? This time around? You knew about before?”
Dorian stared at the ceiling, the corners—anywhere but at her or his daughters.
“How could we not? The man would light up for you and spend the rest of the year moping. We bring other women to meet him, he ignores them. We invite him to new games, he watches videos of old ones,” Augusta said. “So, I am glad you are back.”
“Me, too,” Zoe held her arms open. “I call you Jenn, not Stepmama.”
Zoe’s English had never been as fluent as the others, but Jenn understood. She walked to the younger daughter and hugged her tight.
“I’m happy to see you, too,” she said. “And yes, always call me Jenn
.”
Zoe stepped away. “Now, Papa, confess the details.”
Between the two dark-haired, olive-skinned Greek lovelies, Jenn felt pale and ordinary, yet when Dorian gazed at the three of them, she could feel his pleasure.
“The details.” He sighed. “Are none of your business, my girls. Is it too much to ask for privacy and trust that I can navigate my own life?”
Augusta shook her head and turned to Jenn, her arching eyebrow expression the mirror of her father. “Marriage proposal yet?”
She didn’t need one yet, but had a feeling she and Dorian were going to be subjected to the outside influence they’d been avoiding for so long. Maybe they needed a little pressure.
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
Augusta scowled at her father. “Papa, you’re not getting any younger. You want her to go find some young stud?”
“I’m not in the market for any other studs.” She winked at Dorian. “I’m also not fishing for a ring. I think we’re finally finding our time, but why rush?”
“Because we want you to,” Zoe whined. “Life is too uncertain for delay.”
He said something in Greek, and Jenn lamented once again her inability to pick up the language. Maybe if she made Hellas her home, she’d get hang of the cadence and extra syllables. She would if it meant understanding Dorian better.
“Papa, you know she doesn’t understand.” Augusta patted Jenn’s shoulder. “Our friend has so much to learn. Don’t worry. He’ll come around in time and make you a…what do you call it…an honest woman.”
“She is more honest than most and has never needed me to make that true,” Dorian said. “Will you girls please go bother Athena so I may discuss business with Jenn? She is my guest, you know.”
Zoe giggled. “Papa, you need to learn to share. If we have a new stepmama, we are going to have to indoctrinate her to Hellas. This will require a lot of time, and I’m afraid, money.”
Zoe and Augusta looped arms and headed toward the bunks.
“We’ll be visiting the Americans,” Zoe called. “I’m hoping to pick up a few new curse words to scandalize Jose’s family.”
Jenn shook her head as the two walked away. From the back, they could have been twins, both slim and short with their hair styled the same. They belonged in togas or something flowing and dramatic, but in their sportswear, they presented a lovely picture.
“My girls.” His loving exasperation for his daughters matched his expression. “They meddle like their grandmother; however, they believe they help. How was your session?”
She had put away thoughts of the appointment while enjoying the girls. “Good enough, I guess. Dr. A was very logical today, and I’m going to think about what he said for a while. I’m feeling better, for sure.”
“You promise you don’t just say that because you know I worry?” Though his tone remained the same, his concern showed.
She stepped closer and kissed his cheek, the warmth of his skin and the scent of his aftershave the kind of comfort she never wanted to leave. She looped her arms around his waist and hugged him close, the touch thing not enough to bother her, let alone make her move. “I promise.”
When he breathed in deep, she heard the air move through his lungs.
“I am going to marry you one of these days.” His words rumbled from his chest and straight to her heart, making it beat faster. She’d anticipated his intentions but hadn’t known if he’d make the move or not.
“Yeah, I would be good with that. I think it’s been coming for a while, huh?”
“For years,” he agreed. “This time you’ll stay?”
She had things to see to, issues to resolve, and a life to wrap up in the States, but instead of immobilized, she felt energized. She’d do what it took to stay with Dorian.
“Yeah, this time I’m here for good.”
Chapter Eleven
Dorian’s home stretched at the seams with women, but only one weighed on his mind enough to push him from comfortable quarters and into town during the midday rush. His jeweler remained on speed dial, though regrettably got little work from him. Gifts for his daughters required a short phone call, but choosing something for Jenn deserved his full attention.
He examined the rings Eduardo had set out in anticipation of his visit. The money likely to be involved in the transaction meant he enjoyed a cup of tea in a closed room with the elderly master craftsman sitting near the back. Dorian didn’t need assistance in choosing either stone or setting. He’d know it when he saw it.
The platinum offerings stood out from the smaller gold engagement rings. He moved past single bands and to the wedding sets. They wouldn’t need a long engagement. They’d played their games for years. Their life together after the ceremony was the one he wanted to celebrate.
“Eduardo.” He lifted a beautiful set. The engagement ring sported a single, large princess-cut diamond, but the wedding band truly sparkled with brilliant diamonds marching around the entire circumference. “I will have these wrapped, please.”
The older man hobbled over, years of time spent bent over worktables crippling. He squinted. “Your bride will smile. She will like forever.”
“I believe so. Since she’s marrying a classic, I thought a modern setting might balance things.”
He chuckled. “Smart men keep young wives happy in all ways. You’re a smart man.”
As Dorian waited alone in the front of the shop, he checked his phone. He had a dozen emails waiting, but he ignored them. He’d get flowers for Jenn and whisk her away to the beach. They’d announce their engagement while his daughters could celebrate with them.
The door opened, and angry shouts announced his mother.
“You fool. You will not marry the American girl. No, no.” She shook her fist at him.
“Mama, what are you doing here?” Behind her, Adrian shrugged and tugged his hat over his eyes.
“Your assistant tells me you are marrying the American. You will not. She comes, she leaves. She comes, she leaves. Never stays. You will squander your money, time, and heart, and she will leave again.”
He swallowed his irritation. “I never asked her to stay before. She had no reason to.”
“If she’d wanted to, she would before you spent on this.” She waved at the jewelry displays. “You fritter away your future, buying a woman. You want one? Call the escorts. They give you what you want.”
He kept his temper, but she’d trod on nerves she knew to leave alone. He’d lived without a woman in his life for a long time, waiting for the right one. Jenn was it. She might not be perfect, might have demons yet, but he loved her. They were right together.
“She come, she leave. She come, she leave,” his mother continued. “This time she leave with your money, that’s the difference.”
He couldn’t win, and she would not understand, but she’d also be dead within the next ten years. Dorian kept that in mind. He’d lost his father and had only his mother left of the older generation. She was precious to him, and he refused to crush her when he couldn’t even look at his father any more.
“It will be fine,” he said as Eduardo approached, the older man so hard of hearing he probably hadn’t heard much of the fight. “I must go. The girls are home. You should visit if you can be civil to my guests.”
“Your guests,” she spat. “They are worthless girls playing a worthless game. You waste what you were given.”
He took the bag Eduardo offered. “Thank you, old friend. Mama, take care on the drive home.”
“We will continue this at the house.” She huffed and spun on her heels.
He stopped her with a gentle hand to her shoulder. “Mama. I love her. When she is my bride, I will be the happiest man, and she will take her position as the woman in my life.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Take some time to get accustomed to the idea before you visit again.” His piece said, he turned and headed for his car.
“I will come when I want,
” she yelled after him, but he kept walking.
She wouldn’t, not now, not knowing how he felt. He would ask her to leave, had done it before when she’d caused trouble after he first married Madelyn, and it had hurt them both. She had pride, and he hoped it would keep her from causing a scene.
He spun in the opposite direction as he remembered his other mission. He had flowers to buy.
Chapter Twelve
Augusta spirited Jenn away to a level of Dorian’s villa she had never seen. The basement space offered another glimpse of his wealth and personality. Leather furniture, fine art, inset speakers, and bright flowers made a welcoming area she could imagine worked well for parties. Augusta mixed drinks behind the bar and chatted about her journalism career floundering and threatening to fizzle out before even starting. Jenn’s heart went out to her, but they both understood it was one of those things.
“I take pictures of kittens.” Augusta flashed an overly bright smile. “I hate kittens.”
Jenn giggled and accepted the champagne cocktail. “Yeah, I could do without cats, too, but you’ll be fine. You’ll land on your feet, like the darn beasts you photograph.”
She lounged on the giant leather sofa. Unlike the other parts of the house that stayed true to Mediterranean comfort, the basement had heavy American details in the large furniture and sports memorabilia.
“I told Papa to let me design this area. I love it, but he is old school and prefers his other rooms.”
Jenn put her feet up on the ottoman. “I could see this being fun for game days. Some chicken wings, grape rolls, beer. Yep, quality rec room.”
“When you and father marry, you will be the great basketball hostess.”
She squirmed at yet another mention of matrimony. “Don’t hold your breath, okay? I don’t want to rush either of us. We’ve done this for years, but this time feels so new.”
Augusta nodded. “You’ve always been a simple thing—and I mean that in the very most flattering way. You live in the moment, and you love it. Why not live in this moment and plan to live it the rest of your life?”
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