Page 18 of Slightly Married
A week had passed since I had arrived in Athens. After Konstantin installed me at the villa, he’d promptly disappeared, presumably back to Stella’s waiting arms. Now after this frustrating appointment, retail therapy was the only thing that could salvage my morning.
I wandered through Kalogirou, running my fingers along a rack of silk blouses. The boutique was an oasis of luxury in Athens.
A woman nearby struggled with an armful of dresses in jarring neon shades that would do her olive complexion no favors.
“Those colors will wash you out completely,” I said before I could stop myself. “With your undertones, you need jewel tones like emerald, sapphire, maybe a deep amethyst.”
The woman blinked in surprise. “Are you sure?”
“Here,” I continued, selecting a deep green wrap dress. “This will accentuate your waist and complement your eyes.”
A saleswoman appeared, lips pressed into a thin line. “May I help you find something?” Her pointed tone suggested I should mind my own business.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I replied with a bright smile, unperturbed. “Just helping a fellow shopper avoid a fashion disaster.”
The customer examined the dress I’d suggested, looking impressed.
“She’s right,” said a deep voice behind me. “That shade is far more flattering.”
I turned to find a tall man with dark hair and intelligent eyes regarding me with amusement.
“I appreciate someone who speaks the truth, even when unsolicited,” he said, extending his hand. “Yiorgos Papadopoulos.”
“Kayla Athanasiou,” I replied, shaking his hand. “And truth is my specialty, especially when it comes to fashion.”
“And what would you recommend for me?”
I assessed him quickly. Broad shoulders, trim waist, confident stance. “This tobacco linen would look incredible on you. Or perhaps a deep burgundy.”
“Interesting,” Yiorgos said, studying me. “You clearly know what you’re talking about.”
I laughed. “It’s a hobby.”
“Well, I’m in need of someone with exactly your talents. I’m redoing my entire wardrobe and could use a personal stylist with your...directness.”
The saleswoman looked horrified at our exchange, which only amused me more.
“You’re offering me a job? Just like that?” I tilted my head. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough,” he replied confidently. “I’m a good judge of character. Besides, Athens is small. I can find out everything about you with one phone call.”
“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” I laughed.
“I believe in getting right to the point,” he countered with a smile. “I need someone who won’t sugarcoat the truth about what works and what doesn’t.”
“Well, you definitely need to retire that tie,” I said, pointing to the dated pattern at his neck.
He grinned. “See? You’re perfect. What do you say?”
I considered his offer, oddly tempted despite myself. “Let me think about it,” I replied, taking the business card he extended.
With everything happening in my life, a job might provide the perfect distraction from baby making and my marriage. After some consideration, I called Yiorgos the next day to discuss the job offer. The work might give me something to focus on besides my increasingly complicated personal life.
I also found a new fertility specialist who didn’t question my choices and simply accepted my money in exchange for her services. Dr. Petrova had been refreshingly direct about the whole process, mapping out a treatment plan without any unwanted advice.
Two weeks later, I sat in the fertility clinic’s waiting room, scrolling through my phone. After weeks of preparation, hormone treatments, and precisely timed appointments, today was finally the day. The walls were painted a calming sage green,but nothing could ease the surreal reality that I was about to conceive a child with a man I barely knew.
When the door opened, I looked up to see Konstantin striding into the waiting room, his tailored suit making him look like he was heading to a board meeting. My heart skipped a beat before I forced it to settle.
