Page 180 of Dagger in the Sea

“Sit with me.” I gestured at the empty chair next to mine.

He sat, stretching out his legs. “This restaurant business is for real, eh?”

“Would I lie to you?”

His chest shook with laughter.

Alessio took out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. “Can I smoke in here? I can’t keep track of the rules anymore—Italy, Greece, here, fuck.”

“No, you can’t. Drink this.” I handed him a frothy lemony ouzo cocktail from the bartender. I drank from mine.

“Hmm.” His tongue rubbed over his front teeth. “That’s…different.” He put the drink down and scanned the bar lounge where we sat. “This place is crowded.”

“We got solid reviews from all the right critics opening week. Thismezebar lounge is proving to be a real hotspot for the young professionals after work. The tasting menu in the dining room is attracting a diverse clientele as well. Let me get you something to try.”

“No, no. I’m good.” He waved a hand at me. “I just had dinner with Emilio.”

“How’s he doing?”

His fingers rubbed the pack of cigarettes. “He misses home, but he loves it here. Likes being his own boss. And our father is thrilled at how everything worked out, of course.”

“Of course.”

“He’s so proud. You’d think Emilio got into Harvard and graduated in one year.” We laughed. He wiped a hand through his hair. “It rains too much here. I’ve been here three days, and rain, rain, every day rain.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Luca’s back in Naples?”

“Si.He might meet me in Mykonos the first week of September.”

“Business good there since the big party?”

“Yes. The store on the island is doing good. Very good. And you? You are the restaurant king of Chicago now?” A wide grin broke his handsome features. Facetious prick.

I leaned back in my chair. “No, I wouldn’t say that.”

“They obviously like what you’re selling. Greek food, eh?” He let out a laugh.

“Ironic, I know.”

“You put on a very nice show for them. This is a wonderful theatre that vanishes once the customer’s meal is over and they leave, isn’t it? You offer carefully orchestrated flavors and an environment to evoke certain feelings, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“But we know better.” He picked up his glass, swirled the cocktail around, sniffing at it, and swiftly plonked it down on the table again. “When you’ve had the real thing, all this is only imitation, eh?”

Yes, I’d had the real thing. The pure thing.

I licked my lips and the ouzo flared on my tongue once more, diffused between sugar, lemon, and rum. Something pinched and twisted in my chest at the memory of me and Adri, that first lunch in Andros, celebrating our escape, our self imposed exile withmezeand ouzo on the rocks with a dash of water on the sea, sun pouring over our skin.

“This is how it should be enjoyed. You should keep all this in your heart right this very second so that every time you take a sip of ouzo wherever else you may be, you will enjoy it the right way.”

Sliding the ouzo cocktail away, Alessio caught the bartender’s attention and ordered a whisky,

I took in a tight breath and raised my glass.“Yiá mas,Lovely,” I murmured to myself and drained what was left of the suddenly absurd drink, my eyes closed.

“Keep all this in your heart,”she whispered.

She was in my heart. She was. And this tarted up ouzo was bullshit compared to crisp, bright, pure ouzo with Adri on those beaches, on that island, our hands touching, our lips. Souls.

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