Page 84 of Love on the Rocks
Or maybe Nathalie would have signed the papers by next week and then I wouldn’t be lying when I admitted I had an ex-wife.
I just couldn’t ruin things now.
Chapter 33
They took the small boat to Santorini. Though Angelos was loath to share Mia with anyone else, he longed to show her off. And to pamper her. Tonight, they would eat at the finest restaurant overlooking the caldera. They’d watch the sunset while sipping champagne. And they’d make love under the stars.
- One Week with the Greek
CALLIE
All through dinner I kept thinking about what Gaz had said to me earlier that day. That my menu was too much and so were my plans for the resort. I needed to pare it all down for the investors. I was so sick of always feeling like I was too much. I should have walked away from Gaz and Greystone a long time ago.
Liv had always called me fearless, but now I felt like a fraud. The truth was I was scared.
Scared that what Gaz said about owing everything I had to him was true. Scared of failing. Scared of starting over.
Maybe it was this fear that made me cling to Nikos as we fell into bed. I needed to feel him around me, inside me, everywhere. I needed something rougher tonight. I dug my nails into him, urging him forward. My mouth devoured him hungrily. When we finally collapsed against each other, panting, sweaty, my hair tangled around his fingers, I at last felt some relief.
He held me against him, my ear next to his thundering heart. “Whoa, what was that for?” he panted out. “Earlier this evening, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not you.”
He was silent for a minute before asking. “Still thinking about your list?”
“Not the list. I don’t care anymore about that.” I surprised myself with the truth. “It’s a relief, actually. I didn’t have the right clothes for the photo shoot anyway.”
He chuckled, the warmth of it vibrating through me. “Now,thatI don’t believe.” He stroked his hand over my hair again and I closed my eyes.
“So, what is it you’re not telling me?” he asked.
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah.”
I sighed, rolled over onto my pillow and stared outside the window at the waning moon, half hidden by a veil of white curtains. I’d never said the truth out loud, not even to Liv, and she knew me better than anyone.
“The truth is I’m scared.”
He turned on his side to face me, eyebrows drawn together, waiting for me to elaborate.
“I’m scared that I don’t really have what it takes to make it in this industry. That everything I’ve built so far could come crumbling down at any moment. That I’m a fraud.”
I paused; this was harder than I thought, but it also felt like lancing a wound that had been festering inside me.
“I know I come across as super confident. It’s all an act. When I was a kid, I was bullied—badly. I was always too much—too tall, too big, talked too much, too loudly. I took up too much space, so I tried to make myself smaller, which obviously didn’t work. And I went from feeling like too much to not enough. Thenone day I decided, I couldn’t fight against who I was and I’d just embrace it, layer it on like armor.
“For a while it worked. And don’t get me wrong, I really don’t have low self-esteem. I’m not trying to change myself anymore, at least not physically. But in this industry, you always have to prove yourself, especially as a woman. It’s not enough tojust be. You have to create a fucking brand, and I’ve spent the last few years, paring myself and my food down, trying to fit the Greystone mold until I’m half smoke and shadow and it’s somehow still too much.” I covered my eyes with my hands and groaned. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this to you of all people.”
I felt him shift beside me, his large hand covering mine as he gently pried my fingers away from my eyes.
“Callie, how could you ever be too much”—his fingers stroked over my face as if memorizing it—“when I can never get enough of you?”
* * *
Despite the crappy situation with Greystone, things with Nikos were good. Too good. That part of me that was always waiting for the other shoe to drop was on high alert, like it couldn’t wait to say “I told you so.”
We spent every night together. I cooked for him. At this point, he’d tasted countless iterations of my menu and even more variations of my eternal work in progress, AKA “the fucking dessert.” I couldn’t get it right; it was either too bland or too sweet and cloying. Thankfully, Nikos had a way with criticism that was always encouraging, especially when I got scared and started to play small.
