Page 62 of Dagger in the Sea

“Yes, he’s all set up and ready. Doing last minute checks, but everything’s set.”

Alessio’s dark eyes flashed as he pulled on the ends of the leather necklace, placing them down the model’s chest. Eva, one of the latest Greek model stars that Silia had insisted we hire, wore a silk, dark pink bikini top and a long, mandarin orange silk skirt with two high slits up the sides and a bit of a train in the back that Silia had designed for us. Eva was barefoot and wearing colorful beaded leather and gold anklets on both her ankles and a larger one around a thigh. Wrapped around her head and nestled in her long, wavy, dark hair was a strip of leather with a hanging gold charm that Alessio had designed as part of his new summer beach collection.

I squeezed an arm around his waist. “This is it,” I said to him.

“This is it,” Alessio repeated.

“Perfetto, Alessio. It’s all so perfect,” I said, and he took in a deep breath.

He needed to hear it, and it was all true. I was very proud of him. I’d encouraged him to spend the outrageous amount of money to open his boutique here in Mykonos and I felt responsible for its success. It had done well, but I knew it could do better. This event had been an idea of mine from last year.

Alessio was a sexy character who was very personable. His jewelry being branded with exclusive Mykonos boho-chic worked. Putting him at the center of a party promoting his own exclusive Mykonos boho chic linereallyworked. Tonight we were making it all a visual in action. We were making it an experience.

“Grazie, cara.”Alessio planted a quick kiss on my mouth, and Eva slid her arm through his.

I gestured at the four other models who waited to proceed.“Páme,go on!” I said.

They grabbed their small, gourd-like baskets filled with flowers and descended the steps, moving through the crowd, tossing the red and purple petals and bay leaves everywhere to theoohsandahhsof the guests. Topless young male musicians who waited on either side of the steps struck on theirtouberlékia, handheld goblet style drums which produced that rolling deep Middle Eastern bass beat that was very Greek. Their hands snapped, slapped, popped, and rolled on the small drums. Alessio and the models wove through the crowd and the palm trees and the candlelit tables like beach royalty to that ritual-like rhythm.

Photographers and news cameras rushed around them to capture their every move. Brightly colored Eastern rugs lined a pathway for the models and more topless male dancers who posed along the walkway with tribal hennaed tattoos all over their oiled skin. After Alessio and Eva passed, they joined in the parade, holding lit torches, dancing suggestively along with the Middle Eastern beat.

The crowd cheered, danced, and hooted. Kaspar’s original music perfectly underscored the drumbeats, setting a dramatic, daring but fun rhythm to the goings-on. My heart swelled. This was everything I’d hoped for. More even.

Turo’s hand touched my back as he leaned into me, his heat searing my side. “Adri, Theo’s trying to get your attention,” came his low voice in my ear, and heat pooled in my belly. “Nine o’clock.” His warm hand fell away.

I turned my head in the direction he noted and found Theo, the Athenian PR specialist who was officially running the show, grinning. I waved at him, blowing him a kiss, and he blew me a kiss right back, giving me a thumbs up.

“She conquered,” Turo whispered from slightly behind me, his low voice sending sparks through my bloodstream, his warm breath tickling my ear, fanning the side of my neck. His hand moved down my back.

I turned and touched his lapel, fingering the edge. “Thank you for being here. For helping me blast through it. It was just what I needed tonight.”

“This is all you.”

“It was a lot of people working together.”

“You coordinated it all, and that’s an amazing feat.”

I shrugged, my face heating. “It’s fun for me.”

He leaned in even closer to me. “Adri, you hit all the right notes and you hit new ones. It’s a gift.”

My hand pressed over his tie. “I’m glad Alessio is pleased. He deserves this,” I murmured.

A jubilant roar went off in the crowd, and we turned to see what the commotion was about. Alessio and his models had taken the stage, and with the mic in hand, Alessio welcomed everyone to the official beginning of summer. Cheers and champagne bottles popped madly. He introduced Kaspar and the crowd jumped up and down eager for his magic. Kaspar’s synth music exploded over the speakers, beating a new, very loud, hard driving rhythm. The coloured lights strobed. The crowd danced and yelled for more.

“Alessio’s on top of the world.” Turo grinned.

“Agápi mou esí!”A voice I recognized had me turning. Turo’s grip on my back deepened.

“Elektra!” I hugged my friend, and we kissed cheek to cheek. I introduced her to Turo. “Elektra is a legend here in Greece.”

“A legend?” Turo’s face lit up as he studied her.

A woman in her late forties, Elektra could easily be mistaken for a glamorous hipster in her early thirties. A formidable figure in the Greek music scene for over twenty-five years, Elektra was adored and respected both by the very young and the older generations. A powerful and unpredictable presence onstage, her voice was incredible, strong and operatic, her own distinctive musical instrument. She was an icon, continually setting trends with her changing looks and free spirit lifestyle.

“In America you have Stevie Nicks,” I explained to Turo. “In Greece we have Elektra.”

“Ah, the great Stevie is in a class by herself,vreAdri!” Elektra laughed.

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