‘We are now agreed on that. I will look further afield.’
Faye shook her head. ‘No, Dimitria, honestly. I really don’t need a man. They complicate things. They come in and they take over and then once they’ve taken over and, in Matthew’s case, try to take over and take everything, they leave you with low self-worth and an addiction to the extra-large packets of crisps with the ridges.’
Faye took a breath of the warm air, feeling her shoulders rising in response to the thoughts that were spiralling. Tension. It happened the second she thought back to her life in the cold, grey, damp UK, or contemplated sharing her life with someone again. She was complete exactly as she was – just her. She was still working hard, but in this beautiful location, the life she had chosen for herself, continued to build for herself. Her happiest of places.
‘You only have the addiction to the crisps?’ Dimitria said, tutting. ‘When my self-worth is low, I book a table at Cavo Barbaro and indulge in every hot appetiser they have on the menu.’
‘So,’ Faye said, desperate to change the route of this conversation. ‘Who are the people coming into this suite that book so last minute and expect it to be free or freed up?’
They had many VIP guests visiting the hotel, mainly because Avlaki was secluded in comparison to its near neighbour, the village of Kassiopi. But while the majority of the customers were a joy to look after, some could be the very definition of ‘diva’. But Faye wasn’t immune to finding celebrity guests intriguing…
‘Busy people who need the relaxation of our peaceful oasis,’ Dimitria stated.
‘Is that all I’m getting?’ Dimitria wasn’t usually in charge of bookings so this was highly unusual, which raised suspicion. ‘Well, I guess I will be seeing to their needs in…’ Faye checked her watch. ‘A few hours.’
‘Tomorrow,’ Dimitria said, pinching the dead head of a flower in one of the urns on the balcony.
‘Tomorrow, what?’ Faye asked. Then, realisation. ‘They aren’t coming until tomorrow now?’
‘A change of plans. As I said, busy people. It happens for those who have other things in their lives except work, Faye.’
‘Sometimes,’ Faye said, smiling, ‘people choose to be busy. But it shouldn’t be an excuse for changing hotel bookings. Especially when they’ve made them so last minute anyway.’
‘Ah, such is life.’
As Dimitria moved towards the steps that led down to the hotel grounds, Faye knew this conversation was over and she wasn’t going to learn anything more about these new arrivals until they actually arrived. Unless…
‘So, how many towels will the penthouse need? For the second bedroom too?’
‘As always, Faye,’ Dimitria replied, waving a hand as she descended.
Damn it, that hadn’t worked.
And then Dimitria spoke again. ‘And maybe he would like to sleep and shower in both places.’
He. A man. Of course it was a late-booking, plan-changing, very important man.
‘Na ste kala,’ Faye called. ‘Thank you.’
2
AMPELOKIPOI, ATHENS, GREECE
‘No more, Vasili,’ Konstantinos Petsas said, holding his hands up in surrender to the child bouncing the basketball on the concrete. It was so hot today, humid and intense in this searing city he called home. But Vasilis and his friend, Panagioths, seemed to have more than enough energy, despite the melting temperatures on this basketball court that had definitely seen better days. The white markings had eroded, the baskets had no netting and the fence that enclosed the whole area had more holes than a golf course. But it was a much-needed open space for activity amid the building-saturated streets.
‘He is old now, Vasili,’ Panagioths stated, shaking his dark head of hair.
‘Hey!’ Kostas exclaimed.
‘Not old,’ Vasilis answered. ‘But… he still has his injury. Is it your Achilles making you slow?’
His Achilles. How ironic that the injury that had put paid to his professional basketball career was the tendon named after a Greek warrior. It had snapped, in the middle of one of the most important games for his team. He had worked hard after the repair, intensive rehab and exercises he still did now, he had listened to advice, taken time before coming back. Then, an incident on the street late one night and it had been damaged again. Worse. Despite putting in double the work, more determined than ever, he was never quite the same athlete and his club eventually decided there would be no next chance.
‘Slow? You think I cannot beat you?’ Kostas asked the children, starting to bob and weave in front of them, trainers sliding back and forth on the cement.
‘He is still like a cat,’ Panagioths stated, eyes wide, as if in awe.
‘You cannot beat me,’ Vasilis said, bouncing the ball a little harder, a little faster.
