Page 17 of Love Among the Ruins
“I didn’t expect you to back so soon.”
“You should be more respectful of the neighbors.”
Her mother closed the top of the nail polish bottle. “Why were you back so early?”
“Cassia told me to take some time off.”
“Just like that?”
Her mother knew but was enjoying squeezing the truth out of her. “I kicked a guy who made a move on me.”
A low noise sounded in her mother’s throat. “Good for you.”
“I tried to pull away, but he grabbed both of my wrists, so I kicked him.”
Her mother sipped from her wine glass. “I hope it was hard.”
“He bent over in pain. You were right, Mama. The people on those yachts are assholes.”
“A rich man?” Her I-told-you-so voice grated on Eleni’s nerves like fingers scraping along a blackboard. She was going to start again, her rage against the elite, the people with the yachts, the rich ones. “They’re all the same.”
“Be careful of these men. They are pigs.”
“I know, Mama. You always say.”
Eleni went to her room where she slid off her shoes and collapsed on the bed. Life was so unfair. She’d been groped, and now she’d been fired. It didn’t matter that Cassia had told her to take a month off. As far as Eleni was concerned, she had been fired, and it wasn’t right.
Now her second source of income was gone. Unfortunately, the summer months were the time to make good money on the island. The rich threw parties on their fancy yachts and in their mansions. She’d been relying on the extra money to help her reach her goal, and she was still a few thousand euros short of the amount she needed.
She had no other option. She pulled out the card the American had given her, but her fingers hesitated over her cell phone. After a few seconds, she made the call, but hung up after a few rings.
The guy was rich. He was the epitome of all that she detested.
She couldn’t do this. Not after what had happened to Jonas.
She ripped the card into two.
But then her phone rang.
Her heart jolted.
The number on the caller ID was the same one she’d dialled.
The American was calling her back.
* * *
DOMINIC
His phone rang and he stared at a number he didn’t recognize. It stopped ringing after a few rings, but his curiosity got the better of him and he called back. “Hello?”
There was no sound from the other end.
“Hello,” he barked, losing patience, and hating pranksters. He was about to cut the call when someone said, “Hello. Is that ... Dominic Steele?”
The voice sounded familiar. “Who’s this?”
“Eleni ... the waitress from the—”
