My jaw dropped. “Wait! What?”
Kayla grabbed the length of her braids and pushed them behind her shoulder. “Long story.” She checked her phone. “We should go find our outfits for tonight.”
She pulled me to my feet. “We’ll go dancing and put those Christakis men out of our thoughts!”
I laughed as she draggedme toward a boutique.
Hours later, the night pulsed around us in a trendy Athens bar. Technicolor lights swept across dancing bodies while the bass vibrated through the floorboards. Kayla and I clinked our cocktail glasses.
“To forgetting about men!” Kayla shouted over the music, her face flushed with laughter.
“To freedom!” I agreed, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. The cocktail was sweet and strong, and three sips in, I was already tipsy.
I smoothed my hands down the silky material of my dress, still not quite believing Kayla had convinced me to wear something this revealing. The black fabric hugged my curves, the hem stopping mid-thigh with a slit revealing even more thigh when I moved.
“I still feel half-naked in this,” I confessed.
“You look amazing,” Kayla insisted, her own red dress equally bold. “That ass of yours deserves to be on display.”
She pulled out her phone, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Selfie time!” she announced, angling the screen to capture both our smiling faces. We posed through several shots, laughing at our increasingly ridiculous expressions.
“I need the ladies’ room,” Kayla declared after our third round. “Guard our drinks with your life!”
As she disappeared into the crowd, I sipped my cocktail, people-watching. I’d never experienced such an adult experience — sitting at a bar and having a drink.
“Is this seat taken?” A deep American voice cut through my thoughts.
I looked up to find a tall man with black hair and a friendly smile. His cologne smelled expensive, his button-down shirt perfectly pressed despite the humid night.
“My friend’s just gone to the bathroom,” I said politely, “but you can sit until she’s back.”
“Greg,” he offered, extending his hand. “And you?”
“Tia,” I replied, shaking it.
Greg squinted at me, tilting his head. “You know, it’s crazy, but you look just like a woman staying in the villa next to mine. Dede.” He turned to point into the crowd. “She was just over there a minute ago...”
He scanned the area, then shrugged. “Huh, she must have left. She’s been seeing one of the locals. Probably went off with him.”
I crossed my arms, eyebrow raised. “I hope you’re not one of those people who thinks all Black people look alike.”
Greg’s eyes widened, and he raised his hands defensively. “What? No! God, no. You and Dede both have similar features, same smile, similar height and accent. It’s not a race thing, I swear.”
“Relax,” I said, after letting him squirm for a moment. “I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“Tell me, Tia” Greg said, clearly eager to change the subject. “What brings you to Greece?” he asked.
“Vacation.”
“You’re in my seat.” The voice sent a jolt through me. Santo stood beside us, travel-worn but devastating in dark jeans and a button-down, his eyes fixed on Greg.
“Santo?” My voice came out higher than intended. “I thought you were in Japan.”
“I missed you.” His gaze never left Greg. “Came back early.”
Greg looked between us, understanding dawning. “You guys a couple?”
Before I could answer, Santo placed his hand possessively on the small of my back. “Yes. She’s my girlfriend.”
