‘Thank you,’ she replied, taking it. ‘So, do you have a complaint you want me to go through in the morning when I’m on duty?’
He sighed, long, low, perhaps interspersed with slight embarrassment. ‘No.’
‘OK, good,’ she answered, and then: ‘Listen, I realise it’s all a bit awkward, you know…’ She lowered her voice. ‘After last night. But… we can go back to how things were, can’t we? Me being the frazzled hotel manager and you being the slightly tense superstar guest who demands fruit baskets and drives buggies up the beach.’
She smiled, putting the bag crossways over her body. She had meant it to be humorous, the kind of up-beat pep talk she would give Saffron when school had been particularly tough, followed by a hug of solidarity. But, looking up at that tall, wide, honed frame she had had complete control of in the VIP suite, well, even a platonic cuddle was going to give her a mental rewind to her rocking her hips against him…
And then he stepped towards her, his hand suddenly around the strap of her bag, fist winding it tight and, in turn, bringing her closer to him until they were almost as close as you could get. His eyes were now definitely talking to hers.
‘We cannot go back to how things were,’ he told her, his voice ragged. ‘Know that.’
Her heart was somehow simultaneously in her throat and in her stomach, and it was the only thing she could hear, thudding through her like a thick, pounding bassline. She swallowed and she watched him do the same, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his heart pulsing strong in his neck. And then the sound of a motorbike backfiring broke the night air and the tension. Kostas’s hand came away from the bag strap and he took a step back, and Faye had no idea what would come next until…
‘Signómi,’ Kostas said, running his hand through his hair. ‘I am sorry. Stathis and I, we will find somewhere else to eat, OK?’
And then, just like that, he walked away.
29
KOSTAS’S SUITE, HOTEL MARGARITÁRI, AVLAKI
There was banging like a wrecking hammer inside his head and, as Kostas came to, it got louder and punchier until he realised that the sound wasn’t coming from inside his head but from outside. The door. Someone was knocking on his suite door. He pulled at the sheet and then…
‘You did that all night.’
A woman’s voice. Next to him. He shifted away, fast, to the outside edge of the bed. Someone was in his bed. He focussed his gritty eyes, took in the long dark hair over bare shoulders. Roula. What the fuck had he done? Last night was flooding back, rolling wave after nauseous wave. Going back to thetaverna. Unable to convince Stathis to leave after his sights were set on squid. Watching Faye return and that fuck, Alexandros, lean all over her any chance he got. He had drowned his own choice of meal – meatballs – with too much dry white wine and then… Tinder.
‘Wow,’ Roula said. ‘So I disgust you now? You can’t bear to be near me?’
‘No,’ Kostas said roughly. ‘No, of course not. I just… this is unexpected.’ His eyes scanned the room for clothing he could grab as the door was knocked again.
‘Unexpected?’
‘Sorry.’
The knocking got louder. Was it something serious? Because if it wasn’t, who the hell was hammering his door down at… He checked his watch: 8a.m. He pulled back the sheet, grabbed at what he hoped was his underwear on the floor.
‘What are you doing? You’re not going to answer it, are you? It will be the maid!’
‘I don’t know any maids who would knock this long or as loud,’ he answered, grabbing a hotel robe.
‘I do not know any celebrity who would actually answer.’
Celebrity. She knew who he was? Had he been so drunk he had gone against his usual code of practice of making sure his matches didn’t know his identity? His dating app profile had a different name and very carefully chosen photos…
‘Celebrity?’ he queried, pausing by the door.
‘Aren’t you?’
She was good, but he caught the second of hesitation before her reply. Last night had been a big mistake all round.
‘When I have stopped the noise I will call you a taxi,’ he said.
‘Good luck,’ she said. ‘I tried to do that last night when you passed out on me.’
‘What?’ He really needed to start remembering the details of the early hours of this morning.
‘Yeah, biggest waste of great lingerie I’ve ever had. The only reason I slept in this bed was because you spilt wine all over the sofa and the bed in the other room smelt like cat pee.’
