Page 19 of Love on the Rocks
His little star was the man’s daughter?
- One Week with the Greek
CALLIE
Somehow, despite the wind howling through the cracks in the stones and goats dancing on the tin roof of my shed, I managed to sleep through the night. When I awoke the next morning, I was even more determined to take control of this situation I’d found myself in.
My first item of business for the day was to find a new place—preferably one with a kitchen that would allow me to create a five-course menu worthy of a Michelin star. I set off, leavingthe big furry beast to guard my door. He stared up at me from beneath bushy eyebrows as I explained, “I’m counting on you to hold down the fort. No juvenile delinquents or goats inside, got it?”
This time, when I reached the top of the steep stairs leading to the port, I stopped to savor the view. It was another gloriously sunny day, the sea a deep cerulean-blue near the horizon and a clear aquamarine where the water met the rocks. It was like standing at the edge of the world. I could understand how the ancient people who had built this place had believed in gods and magical sea creatures.
As I made my way down the five hundred steps, I composed a mental list of ingredients that I needed to find at the market today.Phyllo, basil, pine nuts, cinnamon, honey, shallots.
I chanted it like an incantation, adding more ingredients with each step. By the time I reached the center of town, the list had become a litany. I weaved through the tangled alleyways, trying to find my way back to the market where I planned to take my time this morning unearthing as many local treasures as possible.
The older woman who ran the store spoke minimal English, but she spent a good half hour showing me her most-prized products: dried chickpeas and yellow lentils, grown on the far side of the island, some tangy goat cheese, another bottle of wine—this time a pale white with a sketch of the ruined temple on the label—and an enormous quince shaped like a deformed apple. She mimed peeling it, then let me taste some of the preserved rind in a jar.
“Amazing!” I kept repeating, until she was repeating it as well.
When she held out a small bottle of fig raki and some small, wrinkled olives full of umami, she grinned, saying, “Amaysink!”
As I was checking out, she threw in some warm brown bread and motioned for me to follow her down toward the square where an enormous stone furnace stood. It was still warm and smelled like hot bread and yeasty goodness. “For everyone?” I made a circle with my arms.
“Ne,”she agreed vigorously. A communal furnace. I was going to be putting this baby to work, that’s for sure.
“Efcharistó poli.” I thanked her as I heaved my bulging raffia bag over my shoulder. Now that I had all this food, finding a new place became essential. I wove through the narrow passages, hoping that I might miraculously stumble upon an available rental and nearly jumping with joy when I saw a worn sign in English that read “Bed and Breakfast.”
“Oh, thank God.” I let out a relieved sigh. If I got a room there, they might let me use the kitchen.
As I got closer, however, the sound of loud hammering made me slow down. And when I peeked through the open gate that led to the inn, my optimism died in my chest. Where the entrance should have been was a large gaping hole leading to the charred remains of the reception area. And instead of a roof, there was only the clear blue sky.
The sight of familiar broad shoulders, this time gleaming with sweat beneath a white sleeveless shirt, stopped me in my tracks. Ugh, what washedoing here? I refused to be caught ogling him again. But my eyes simply refused to comply and greedily ran over his tan skin and the tattoos decorating his flexing biceps.
“Miss Calista, hello!” Yiannis’s voice called out, and Nikos turned and caught me staring. He had the nerve to smirk at me.
“Good morning,” he said, that deep baritone once again making me weak in the knees. “I’m afraid you missed the ferry.” He nodded at my enormous bag.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” I answered. “Thanks to you making me late for my meeting yesterday, I’ll have to hang around here a bit longer.”
He leaned against the wall and my eyes ran over his slim waist and his paint-splattered work pants. “So you’re a carpenter as well as a fisherman and a liar?”
“Yes, on a small island we wear multiple hats.” He smiled crookedly.
I dragged my eyes away from him and gestured to Yiannis who’d been hiding in the corner like he wanted to disappear into the stone wall. He shuffled over with a sheepish expression on his face.
“I understand you’re the only person who handles real estate on the island, Yiannis,” I said, and he glanced nervously at Nikos.
“Yes, that’s right. Is there a problem with your house?” His voice cracked.
“I don’t know if I could narrow it down to justoneproblem. Let’s just say I was expecting hot water and a functional kitchen.” I was trying to be as diplomatic as possible. It wasn’t his fault that Gaz had chosen to play a lousy joke on me by renting that hovel. “Do you have another rental available with those very basic amenities?”
“Oh, Miss Calista, I don’t know . . .” He flicked another uneasy glance at his friends. What, did the fishermen’s mafia control Airbnb’s around here?
“I’ll pay extra.” I smiled at him.
He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “The problem is . . . the island is very small, and it was just Easter. Many families come to visit. And you can see, the hotel . . .” He gestured to the hole in the wall. “No, no, I can’t help you.”
“Well, do you think there will be something available in the near future?” I fought to control my temper. I could feel Nikos’seyes boring into the back of my head. “Or maybe someone might have a room to rent?”
