Page 5 of Love on the Rocks
“My roots?”
“Yeah, your Greek heritage,Calista.” He pronounced my name like he was Zorba the Greek.
My lips flattened together. We’d already had this discussion and here he was proving, yet again, that he had no idea who I really was. “I’m not Greek. My mom was just a huge Ally McBeal fan.”
His eyebrows drew together in confusion.
“You know, the show from the ’90s with lawyers in short skirts singing in bathrooms?” He shook his head. “There was a computer-generated baby and lots of Barry White?” The three of them stared at me like I was speaking another language. “Anyway, the lead actress’s name was Calista Flockhart. She’s married to Harrison Ford.”
“Ah.” Both Fred and Gaz nodded.
“Well, it really doesn’t matter that you’re not Greek, does it, father?” Gaz threw a glance at Rupert who remained impassive except for a slight tic in his eye. I’d never seen Gaz look like such a lost little boy, and I almost—almost—felt bad for him. I remembered all the stories he’d told me about his awful father and brother—how he’d always felt invisible. After a moment of silence, he continued, “The only problem is we’ll need you to go out there soon.”
“How soon?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I let out a nervous laugh. Surely, he wasn’t serious. “But you said the place is still under construction!”
“It is . . .” He exchanged a look with Fred. There was something they weren’t telling me. “Look, Callie, babe . . .” I stiffened, and Gaz cleared his throat. “This is standard. You’re going to be heading a restaurant. You need to go out there, get a feel for the place, come up with a gorgeous menu that will knock the socks off our partners.”
“I don’t know,” I hedged, stealing a glance at Rupert.
“Can I talk to her privately for a moment?” Gaz asked and his father nodded.
I reluctantly followed him outside, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall. “What’s going on, Gaz?”
“Look, babe, you’re perfect for the restaurant. Onlyyoucan do this. I chose you because this ismyproject.” His eyes went all basset hound on me so that I understood the complete subtext of his words. How many times had he cried to me—and I mean literally wept like a wounded child—about his father who hated him and never believed in any of his projects?
“Oh God,” I moaned because it was totally working. I wanted to help him. And he was right, this would be a major steppingstone for me. The documentary! I could be in the Netflix special.
When we walked back into the room, there was something in the self-satisfied way that Rupert and Seth Greystone looked at me—like they’d told Gaz before the meeting that I wasn’t up to the challenge—that raised my hackles. They didn’t think I could do it? Well, we’d see about that.
I was going to create magic.
* * *
“You’re not really going to do this are you?” Olivia’s voice came through the receiver.
“Well, given that I’ve already stuffed half my wardrobe into a suitcase, I kinda think I am. I can’t back out now.” I heaved another pair of shoes into the open suitcase on my bed—a pair of leather sandals with long thin straps that wrapped around my calves. If I couldn’t wear these in Greece, where could I wear them?
I’d also thrown in some flowy dresses, the ones with the seventies Stevie Nicks vibe that would be perfect for making culinary magic. I didn’t do anything in half measure. If I was really going to strand myself on some forgotten Greek island for the next few weeks, I had every intention of playing the part of island-bound sorceress to the max. “Anyway, Gaz is right, this will be a major steppingstone for me. By next year they may offer me a job near you.”
“Or you could go work for someone else?” Liv suggested hopefully. “You’ve been tied to these Greystones for too long. They’re bringing you down.”
“Or I could get as much out of the relationship as possible, right? Otherwise, what was the point of putting up with him for the last three years?” I thought of Rupert and Seth and their cold-blooded, humorless faces. “And, Liv, it was impossible not to agree to help with his project when five minutes in his father’s presence has traumatized me for life. I can’t imagine what growing up with a man like that would do to you. It’s no wonder Gaz has issues.”
“You are loyal to a fault, Cal.” Liv groaned. “Do you know where you’re staying at least?”
“Gaz said they rented me a cottage. ‘Rustic but authentic’ is how he decribed it.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring. Although, I imagine we have very different definitions of rustic. Considering the billions hisfamily has, it’s probably a beachfront apartment with an infinity pool.”
It’s true that, although Gaz liked to pretend he came from a working-class background with his fake Cockney accent, he came from money and had the diploma from Eton to prove it.
“I’ll settle for a beachfront property,” I said looking around at my tiny room in my small flatshare with its single bed shoved against the wall. I could cross the entire room in three large steps, and my wardrobe, which was embarrassingly large, was hanging off a clothing rack, the back of the door, and the curtain rod. It would be nice to have a place of my own.
“I’m coming out to see you if you insist on going through with this madness,” Liv warned.
