“At least something’s going right,” she muttered.
She really wanted to talk to Peter about what her father had left her.
Was this place a goldmine like Peter assumed? The land maybe, but not the building. It needed so much work.
But the bones of it seemed strong. Perhaps it just needed to be spruced up a bit. Once upon a time, she could imagine it had been quite regal. Whenever that ‘time’ was, was open to debate, but it could be brought back.
But it really couldn’t be on a better piece of land. The views were spectacular. She tried to keep her brain occupied with the logistics of owning an internationally visited hotel, but soon her brain went back to her parents, and to the letters they had written to one another.
Ruth had never really loved anyone, Joanna thought. Not from what she had seen. Hell, it was debatable if her mother even really lovedher.
Over the years when she was a child, she had watched Ruth try to date men. Everyone she dated, no matter who it was, always ended badly.
She never went out with anyone for more than a couple of weeks. Joanna had just assumed at the time that her mother wasn’t able to find anyone with whom she connected. That all of the men she dated were jerks of some kind.
Had she just been comparing them all to her father? Had they all failed to impress and had Ruth lived her whole life hoping to find another George Herod?
She’d never even mentioned him. The most Joanna ever got was that one comment: “It was a mistake.”
Wasshethe mistake? And what were all of the letters about?
Chapter Nine
Joanna turned got out of the shower and dried off. She opened up her suitcase and contemplated what to wear. She had brought a long, black flowing gown, but was it too sexy? She wasn’t concerned about that factor so much as she was about comfort.
A little voice in her head, one that sounded surprisingly a lot like Donna said, Yeah, you tell yourself that’s why you’re wearing it.Nick isn’t exactly hard on the eyes, is he?
He’s not, Joanna thought to herself. And I bethe’danswer the phone if I called him from another country.
A little while later she went back down the lobby where she found Nick reading the paper and Chris talking with a guest.
“Joanna,” she waved. “Come, come! This is Mr. Balis. Mr. Balis, this is the new owner, George’s daughter. You’re going to bring this place back to its former glory, aren’t you, Miss Joanna?”
She coloured. “Oh, I have no idea what I’m going to do yet. ”
Mr. Balis took Joanna’s hand and kissed it. He had white hair shooting out the sides of his old golfer’s hat, and was maybe in his mid eighties. His eyes looked a little confused, and Joanna couldn’t tell if he knew what was going on. Then he surprised her by speaking English.
“Your father,” he began, and shook his head. “Your father was the best friend anyone could ever have, but he didn’t give a shit about this place. He let Chris here worry about everything. But he always made sure we had whatever we needed. Before I married my wife, I wanted to buy her some flowers as a surprise. I wasn’t the only guy interested in her, you see. He lent me the money when I jokingly said I was going to lose her to Janus down the street. Janus’s father had money, just like George’s father did, but George didn’t walk around trying to look better than everyone. I tried to pay him back, and he wouldn’t let me. Told me to buy her another bouquet. He said the trick is not just buying a girl flowers, but buying her flowers more than once. I took that to heart. Been buying her flowers ever since.”
“Your English is very good,” Joanna commented, smiling.
Balis gave a curt nod. “Deal with tourists most of the year. We all speak some English here. Learn some Greek if you’re going to stay, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll talk to you even if you don’t. Skiathons are talkers.”
Then he walked out the back to the outdoor pool and bar.
“Is he here for the bar?” Joanna asked.
“No,” Chris replied. “He got in trouble with his wife. Shouldn’t have given her so many flowers. Now when he makes her angry he’s got nothing to give her.”
Nick had been so involved in his paper that he hadn’t realised Joanna had come down. Right then he noticed her (as well as what she was wearing) and tossing the paper to the side he bounced over.
“Joanna,” he exclaimed. “Ready for dinner?”
“I am. Where are you taking me?”
“What do you like?” he asked charmingly.
“Something fresh,” she said.
