by Amy Andrews
“Yeah well...I don’t want spend time with you.” Wrenching her arm away, she made a beeline for the door.
“What are you going to do?” he asked as she slid her hand onto the knob.
She stilled. She had no idea but she knew she couldn’t stay working for Hermes. She wanted nothing to do with Ari or his company. “I don’t know.”
“Can I call you?”
A surge of bile rose up her throat as her knuckles whitened around the knob. He had to be joking. “Don’t call, don’t message, don’t text. Don’t internet stalk me. Don’t come and visit.” If she never saw Ari Callisthenes again, it would be too soon. “You stay on this side of the world and I’ll stay on mine.”
“Kaló taxidi.”
Kelsey didn’t know what he’d said, nor did she care, she just turned the handle and stalked out and didn’t stop until she was seated on the nearest vaporetto heading god knew where.
A strangled kind of half sob/half laugh rose in her throat as she sat at the bow trying not to cry. She should have known her life was going too well to become complacent. That she was due a bitch slap from the universe because life wasn’t meant to be easy and how dare she think that things could actually go her way.
It had been eight years since Eric after all.
An image of Ari on Mykonos a few days ago rose in her mind but she quashed it. That man wasn’t Ari. He was Aristotle Callisthenes.
Liar. Bastard. Traitor.
Pretending to be somebody else. Fucking her as somebody else. All while taking notes. Reporting back. God. She could pick ‘em. What an idiot she was when it came to men.
She did cry then, jamming her sunglasses on to hide the bitter spring of tears. Somehow this hurt worse than Eric. The betrayal cut deeper. Because she’d thought she was impervious to it now. Armoured against it. That she’d learned from her experience all those years ago.
That she was older and wiser.
How could a guy she’d known for a week hurt her worse than a guy she’d been in love with for a year?
How?
Pushing back against another sob welling in her chest, Kelsey set her jaw. She blinked back the tears and hacked back the rise of helplessness threatening to suffocate her lungs. She would not breakdown over some guy who’d been nothing but a life support for a cock. She’d known him for a week. One lousy week.
Nobody fell apart after one week.
She would get mad, hell, she’d probably end up plotting a thousand ways to get even - in her sleep.
But she would not cry.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ari’s head was still a little fuzzy from the migraine he’d slept off last night. They’d been plaguing him a lot since his return two months ago and he was grateful for his dark sunglasses as he stood at the railing of Theo’s house and stared out over the Aegean.
Mykonos was heaving with his fellow countrymen from the mainland, all here for the long weekend celebrating one of Greece’s most popular holidays - Agios Pnevmatos.
But his mind was not on the holidays or the view. His mind was on another day, here. With Kelsey. Lazing around the terrace, laughing and drinking and eating. Cooling off in the pool. Leaning on the infinity edge and staring out over the jewel-like vista.
Kissing and touching.
Playful caresses turning into hot making out sessions. Making out morphing into frantic joining when the fever grew too big and fierce and a desperate kind of urgency incinerated the slow laziness of the day.
He’d been an idiot with Kelsey. He should never have crossed that line. He should have taken his wallet and shut the door. Or at least manned up and been honest.
Because he was no better than her embezzling ex who had lied to her, stolen from her and then skipped town. She’d taken a leap of faith trusting Ari and he’d gone and done the same thing her ex had done.
He’d lied.
And he loathed himself and what he’d done which only made the guilt he’d felt since his return even more acute.
Oh my god. I’m transition woman.
Those words still haunted him. He didn’t know what the hell he’d been doing with Kelsey but she was not transition woman. He’d cop to being a hypocrite over his fraternisation recommendations – god knew he’d felt like the lowest kind of slug writing them - but he wouldn’t cop to using her as some kind of place holder for some other future woman.
Nor had she been a way to forget his wife. Kelsey had been Kelsey. She’d been fun and bright and happy. She’d been generous and giving. And he’d been into her – even when he hadn’t wanted to be.
He’d cared about her. He still did.
Although god knew what he’d been thinking at that moment he’d implored her to stay. It must have sounded insane. But he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of her walking away. Of another woman he cared for leaving him.
He didn’t...love Kelsey because that would be impossible. He’d had his one great love in life. The end. Full stop. But... he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, either.
If she had been transition woman as she’d accused, surely forgetting her would be simple? Surely he wouldn’t be picking up the phone a dozen times a day to get the ball rolling on tracking her down.
Because he had.
But then her you stay on your side of the world and I’ll stay on mine would slap him in the face and he’d put the phone down.
Was it so wrong to want to...check on her? She’d quit her job which had been a shock and he’d been worrying whether or not she’d been able to buy that cottage. Had she found another job? And if so, where? She hadn’t requested a reference from anyone at Hermes because he’d asked.
Did a guy do that with transition woman?
“Ari.”
A hand clapped on his back and Ari shot a ghost of a smile at his brother. “Theo.”
“What are you doing all the way over here when three women with their tongues hanging out await your presence in the pool?”
They were speaking in Greek but his brother still managed to sound like a total kavliaris - horn dog - in all four of the languages that could slip off his tongue, smooth as cream. Theo always came to Mykonos with house guests because apparently the entire Callisthenes clan crowding in on the terrace wasn’t enough.
“One day some woman is going to bring you to your knees and I hope I’m around to see it.”
Theo threw back his head and laughed. “Hello, my name is Theo Callisthenes, perhaps we haven’t met before?”
Ari shook his head in mock disgust. He knew Theo, in his own emotionally inept way, was just trying to keep Ari together, keep him putting one foot in front of the other. He knew his brother loved him and had been his biggest champion and feistiest protector in the aftermath of Talia’s death.
But they were very different, he and Theo. Ari had never been a guy who could just move on to the next woman.
“Theodorus.”
The tinkly, sing-songy voice drifted to them on the breeze and Ari was grateful for the interruption. “You’re wanted,” he said.
Theo grinned. “Always man, always.” He clapped his brother on the back. “Join us.
“Maybe later.”
Theo departed and Ari turned back to the view and his thoughts. Kelsey hadn’t been transition woman. If she had, and if Ari had been a different kind of guy, he’d be all over the single women frolicking in the pool at the moment. But none of them held his interest.
Only Kelsey.
That’s who he’d been thinking about since returning from the cruise. Hell, to his shame, he’d barely even thought about Talia.
“Ari.”
It was his grandfather this time, slipping in to stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder. He might be in his eighties, his hair snowy instead of the jet black of Ari memories, but he still stood tall and strong, his mind as sharp as a steel trap.
Yanis Callisthenes had inherited Hermes from his grandfather and taken it from a small, ailing line to an international juggerna
ut.
“Pappou.”
“It’s a beautiful day.”
“It is,” Ari agreed.
“Makes a man grateful to be alive. To be surrounded by his family.”
Ari didn’t respond. His grandfather didn’t expect it. Family was a given.
“You are troubled, paidí mou. Thinking about Talia?”
Startled, Ari glanced at his grandfather. He saw his Pappou most days but they rarely spoke about Talia.
“No.” He sighed. Thinking of Talia would be easier. He blinked at the peculiar thought. When had it become easier to think about Talia?
His grandfather turned wise, old assessing eyes on his grandson. “Ah.” It was a smug kind of ah. “I know that sigh, my boy. It’s the sigh men have been sighing for centuries over women.”
Ari turned back to the view, silent for a few moments. “I ...met someone...a couple of months ago.”
He wasn’t sure why he was confiding in his Pappou. Maybe it was the age and wisdom thing or maybe it was the empathy always lurking in his dark, old eyes. “That’s...good,” his grandfather said, also returning to the view, his words considered, careful.
“Is it?” Ari didn’t feel good.
Pappou said nothing for long moments. “You’re in love with her?”
Ari glanced sharply to his right, to the proud cut of his grandfather’s jaw. “No.” Absolutely not. He was done in the love department.
A small smile touched the old man’s face but he kept his eyes on the boat traffic making the most of the glorious summer weather. “Why not?”
“I’ve had my turn.”
“Ari, Ari.” His grandfather shook his head. “You think we only get one go at this?”
Ari didn’t have a fucking clue how it all worked. He just knew he’d been one and done a long time ago.
There was more considered silence from his grandfather and Ari’s skin itched waiting for him to continue. Because there was definitely more coming. His grandfather just didn’t like to be rushed.
“I had a fiancé, when I was twenty. Before your grandmother. Her name was Alenka and she was...” He shook his head and smiled, his eyes fixed on the horizon. “She was a beauty.”
Ari blinked. What the hell? He glanced over his shoulder at his grandmother holding court with the grandkids before turning back to stare at his grandfather.
“It’s okay, she knows,” he assured, patting Ari’s hand. “One day, about two months before we were to marry, Alenka didn’t feel well. She had a cough, a sore throat, a bad head ache. The light hurt her eyes. A cold, we thought. Maybe the flu. She went to bed. The next day her parents couldn’t rouse her and she was rushed to the hospital. Meningitis. Three days later...she was dead.”
Ari’s stomach almost dropped out of his abdomen. Theé! “Pappou...” He slid a hand onto his grandfather’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” His grandfather shrugged. “It was the times. They didn’t have the drugs, the expertise they do today.”
“It must have been terrible.” Ari knew intimately, how deep and dark were the depths of grief.
“It was. And I thought that was it for me too. But your Yiayia...” He smiled. “She came into my life a year later like Thor’s hammer and turned it upside down. She wasn’t an ethereal beauty like Alenka. She wasn’t placid and content to just sit at home and let a man look after her. She was a total ball breaker who knew exactly what she wanted. I thought my life was over, that I could never love again, never laugh again. Not the true deep down belly laugh, you know?”
Ari nodded. He did know. He knew exactly. The kind of laugh Kelsey had drawn out of him.
“I was a fool. I almost passed up fifty-five wonderfully happy years - seven children, thirty grandchildren, eight great grandchildren – all because I was gun shy. I thought a one-woman-man meant one woman forever. But it doesn’t.” He shook his head. “The notion that in a whole world full of people there’s only one person for everyone is ludicrous. We don’t just get one go at this,” he repeated.
“Pappou.” This was different. “We were together for a week.”
And together was stretching it.
His grandfather turned his head and Ari could feel those old eyes on his profile. “And how soon did you know you loved Talia?”
Ari didn’t answer the old man. He’d fallen for Talia at first sight and they both knew it. Yanis big gnarly fingers settled over top of Ari’s once more.
“Love makes you vulnerable. I know that well. But...” His grandfather squeezed his hand. “Love is everywhere, Aristotle. You just got to let it in.”
With one last squeeze, he turned and left, leaving Ari’s gut churning. Was his grandfather right? Was it possible to have fallen in love with Kelsey in a week? He knew love at first sight was real – he’d been there, done that. The concept didn’t scare him. He just hadn’t thought he’d get another turn at a grand love.
But could lightning strike twice?
Ari didn’t know. But with his pulse throbbing through his head, he knew with sudden and absolute clarity, he had to find out. Turning away from the rail he picked his way around people with single-minded focus finally making it inside, the cooler shadows of the interior an instant balm to the residual tension from his headache.
“Aristotle,” his Yiayia called as he reached the front door. “Where are you going?”
“Australia,” he said as he opened the door and stepped outside.
Almost three months post Aristotle Callisthenes throwing a bomb into her life, Kelsey had finally reached the stage where she didn’t think about him every damn minute of the day.
Maybe only a dozen times a day now.
Who knew? Perhaps by the end of the year she’d have that down to five or ten. And by the time her number was up, maybe she’d have it down to only once a week.
It wasn’t because she loved him. Or was...pining after him. It was because anger burned harder and longer – she already knew that from the Eric debacle. And she was hanging on to it because while it boiled in her gut, she wasn’t crying. She’d shed about a million tears over Eric – she would not waste a single one on another lying bastard.
Not that she was angry at Ari any more. Ironically she could see that he’d been trapped in a lie of his own making and she did believe he hadn’t set out to trap or hurt her.
No...she was angry with herself.
Angry that she’d let her guard down and trusted a guy again after vowing she wouldn’t. Angry that she’d picked wrong again. Angry that she’d brought this disaster down on herself by crossing a line she should never have crossed.
Karma really was a bitch.
But...Kelsey sucked in a deep breath of sweet, sea air and lifted her face to the sun. She had this. Her toes in the water, sand on her feet and the Pacific Ocean framed in her windows.
Her and her mother had taken their sea change. They had moved to Pelican Cove. They had bought the cottage – even if they were in more debt than Kelsey had planned and they couldn’t afford the modifications yet.
But they were here. In Pelican Cove.
Their new town wasn’t one of those trendy weekend café-latte hot spots. It was still a little old and faded around the edges. A relic from the seventies that hadn’t yet been discovered. One of those secret little places overlooked for shinier places nearby.
Which suited Kelsey just fine. She loved the slow pace, the slightly dented charm, the lack of pretence. And she loved her job at the Pelican’s Belly Cafe. She may not be earning a fortune but they were doing okay.
They were happy.
The light breeze ruffled her hair and she let the natural calm of the scenery wash over her. Things might not have gone exactly to plan but look at what had gone right. She had more time with her mother, a community that had welcomed them with open arms and a lifestyle they’d been dreaming about for years.
She was lucky, damn it. She didn’t need Ari-fucking-Callisthenes.
Reaching the ro
cks at the end of the sweeping, crescent shaped cove, Kelsey retraced her steps, the golden sand soft and crunchy beneath her feet. She had to get home. Her mother’s painting class would be over soon and she was picking her up then heading to work.
She passed the rickety jetty that was more fit for scenery than purpose given how badly decayed it was. There were keep out signs posted the length of it and, on the sandy esplanade pathway opposite, a faded sign announced the community fund for jetty repairs.
A very phallic looking counter graced the sign indicating the level of funds already raised. It was nowhere near the top despite every chook raffle, sausage sizzle or trivia night in Pelican Cove dedicating the proceeds to the jetty fund.
Secretly, Kelsey thought it was beyond repair and needed knocking down and starting again.
It was a twenty minute walk along the beach and Kelsey enjoyed every minute, staring out to sea as the water foamed around her feet. Drawing level with the beach access sign that lead to their cottage, she left the shoreline and headed for the row of Casuarina trees which separated the beach from the land.
Collecting sand on her feet, Kelsey ducked through the low hang of branches to the path trying to dodge as many of the hard little cones that had fallen to the ground as possible. Those suckers were hell on bare feet.
Relieved when she stepped onto grass, Kelsey headed straight for the hose which was mounted on the corner of the house that fronted the street. She’d just about removed all the sand from her feet and legs when an achingly familiar English accent with a slight Greek inflection froze her to the spot.
“Kalimera, Kelsey.”
Her heart in her mouth, she glanced up to find Aristotle Callisthenes, as bold as you please, standing a few meters away, in a t-shirt that hugged his chest and board shorts that hugged his legs, his wavy hair tousling in the breeze.
Kelsey’s knees went a little weak and she was grateful to have the house to lean on as she stared. God...was she hallucinating? Had her constant fevered thoughts finally conjured him up?
“Ari?” She felt faint and mildly nauseated. She leaned more heavily and breathed in and out slowly. She would not swoon or vomit at his feet.
