Page 2 of Below Deck Billionaire
‘We’re trying to throw him a lifeline.’
Dimitri, an old friend of Yanis Callisthenes – Theo and Ari’s grandfather – ran a successful but comparatively small charter business. Or he had anyway. It was now seriously on the rocks and taking on water. It was only a matter of time before it went under. And the old curmudgeon seemed determined to go down with it.
But what of the fate of his almost three hundred employees? Oceanós could easily absorb the Kouris company and give them the lifeline they desperately needed.
‘I wouldn’t put it past him to go with one of our competitors.’
Frustration boiled in Theo’s gut. ‘But they’ll break his company up and sell it off bit by bit. We’ll keep it intact and running and get it turning a profit again. He knows this.’
Damn it, if it were up to Theo he’d cut the old fool loose. Let him fuck around and find out just how much worse off his company would be if one of the sharks ominously circling was to swallow it whole. Theo Callisthenes would look like a goddamn angel by the time the snack-sized Kouris empire had been devoured.
But they’d promised their grandfather they would get this done. And as Ari kept reminding him – it made good business sense.
‘He’s a Greek man of a certain age, which means he’s bull-headed and used to having things go his way. This whole experience had humbled him and he’s angry and wounded and looking for any excuse to not take charity from one of his oldest friends.’
‘Charity?’ Theo snorted. ‘The price he’s asking for that lemon is extortionate.’
Ari fell silent, obviously not, as the CFO, prepared to dispute Theo’s statement even though he knew it to be right and they both stared at the view for long moments.
‘What’s up with you?’ Ari asked, finally interrupting the silence.
Feeling his brother’s gaze on his profile, Theo muttered dismissively, ‘I’m fine.’ Because if he knew the answer to that he’d be doing something about it. None of the usual things – partying, sailing and polo – were working any more.
‘No, you’re not. You’ve been acting like the world’s supply of available women is about to run out and you’re trying to get to every single one of them. I mean… you’ve always been ridiculously horny, but this is extra even for you. You’re out of control.’
Theo clenched his jaw. His brother’s summary hit a little too close to the bone. ‘I’m not,’ he ground out, tension creeping into his neck and shoulders. After fucking up badly when he was younger, Theo maintained ruthless control over his sex life.
One and done.
‘Yes. You are. It’s like you’re on goddamn heat or something. What happened?’
‘Nothing happened.’Do not think about Tiffany. Do. Not. ‘You’re just jealous because you’ll only ever sleep with the one woman for the rest of your days.’
Instead of feeling chastised or insulted, Ari threw his head back and laughed like it was the dumbest comeback he’d ever heard. ‘Theo, Theo, Theo.’ Ari clapped him on the shoulder. ‘One day you’re going to learn that there is something better than sex.’
‘Let me guess.’ Theo held the back of his palm to his forehead for dramatic effect as he slipped his hand across his heart. ‘Stroking the belly of your pregnant wife?’
That was not for Theo. He’d taken care of that potential a long time ago, getting a vasectomy at the age of twenty-two.
‘Close.’ Ari grinned. ‘Sex with a woman you love.’
Theo rolled his eyes. His brother always had been a one-woman guy. Unlike himself, who’d been team one-night stand ever since the fiasco with Angelika. ‘Now you sound like Pappou.’
Their grandparents had been married for over sixty years and were still madly in love. Openly affectionate and utterly content in each other’s company, they extolled the virtues of love, marriage and monogamy with all the zeal of cult members. His parents had also sipped the Kool-Aid.
Ari grinned. ‘That’s because he knows what he’s talking about.’
Sex with love. Something Theo had avoided at all costs and yet, after keeping her firmly out of his brain for this conversation, he was suddenly thinking about Tiffany.
Again.
Tiffany, who he hadn’t had to havethe conversationwith because she hadn’t been there the next morning when he’d woken. Tiffany, who hadn’t returned his messages or even, apparently, asked after him. Tiffany, who’d returned his flowers.
Which was perfectly fine. Just the way he liked it. Not having to spell it out in an excruciating conversation he’d had once too often? Bonus.
Except for this damn restlessness.
Glancing at his brother, he asked, ‘Can you get Dimitri back to the table?’
