That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 3

Dinner, Oliva had beentold, was a communal affair after she requested it brought to her room. It was part of the hotel’s initiative of connecting while disconnecting or some similar bullshit the busboy had fed her while roaming the grounds just in front of her isolated accommodation.

And, now, here she was, walking down the never ending maze of hallways that took her outside and back inside repeatedly. She got lost as soon as she left the private compound of her accommodations, but she found she didn’t care very much. Eventually, she would find her way to where she needed to go or, at least, find someone who could direct her to where she needed to go.

Her bodyguard had made himself scarce, and she half hoped that it was because he had actually left. While she would like the company of someone to keep her sane, even if they didn’t talk much, it was easier to have her meltdowns without an audience. Like the one she had a few minutes before she decided she needed food. That had been all shades of ugly as she screamed into her pillow, cried, and then screamed some more.

Maybe it was her continued string of bad luck that was mocking her, because as soon as she came to the conclusion that the benefits of being without company outweighed those of being with them, the man from earlier rounded the corner, coming down the same hall she was meandering.

She let out a disappointed sigh before she put on her best rich-girl attitude—the forced public persona, thanks to who her family was and the people she kept around her. “Take me to the dining hall,” she said to him without preamble.

The man, startled by her presence, looked at her funny, his expression being completely obvious as he stood a few feet away from her.

“I said,” she glared, adding a little bite in her tone, “do your job and take me to the dining hall.”

He had been looking at the floor as he walked, lost in thought, so Olivia knew he probably didn’t hear her and her attitude was uncalled for. However, she could barely muster the energy to be her usual calm and collected self around people, the memory of her most recent mistake so raw it bled. So, instead, she adopted the one persona that never failed to get her what she wanted.

The man glared at her, conflicted with himself as his dark eyes swarmed with a lot of emotion. However, as soon as she’d noticed, they cleared and his face was a mask of indifference. “Right this way,” he stated as he turned and walked back to where he had come from, not waiting or looking back to see if Olivia was following him.

In another life, Olivia would have found him beautiful and just the kind of man she was usually attracted to. He was taller than her 5’4” self and the actual definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He was lean, like he kept himself in shape, but didn’t spend most of his time working out. He had an angular jawline that people paid good money to attain, a sharp nose that gave him a haughty look, and slightly thin but pink lips accentuated by a short beard. He kept his hair long, and she had the strangest desire to run her fingers through it, especially the edges that slightly curled out as if they had intentionally been styled that way.

In another life, she would have loved to get to know if he liked having his hair pulled and exactly how hard. But the thought of opening up and letting someone in like that so soon made her stomach turn.

It was minutes later when Olivia paid attention to her surroundings. It had to have been the lack of noise in a moderately noisy hotel, or maybe it was the feeling of being watched that jarred her out of her thoughts and back to her surroundings.

For the first time since she arrived, she realized exactly how many people were living at this hotel, and it seemed like over a hundred people had all stopped to look at her. She tried to ignore the stares in the long room, hoping and praying to the heavens that there was someone else behind her who they were all looking at. She even subtly turned around to make sure, but she was greeted by the outside and the distant sound of the sea in the evenings.

And, once she did that, she couldn’t ignore the fact that the finger-pointing and whispering were being made toward her. Attempting to push through the discomfort, Olivia pressed forward, but the prying eyes and probing questions of the other guests unnerved her to a point where she just couldn’t take one more step inside the large room that now felt very small.

A few steps away from her, Nikos walked on, oblivious to what was going on around him or the woman he was being forced to be civil with. The only reason he even agreed to walk her to the dining area was that he felt he had already disappointed Papous. There was no reason to add to that disappointment, even if the elderly man didn’t know it already. So, he swallowed his pride and entertained the spoiled princess, acting as her personal guide, even if he could have asked, literally, anyone else to do it instead.

It’s because Nikos was so consumed with his thoughts and shame about his earlier conversation with Papous that he missed the fact that the woman he had been leading to the dining hall was now making a hasty retreat behind him. Or the fact that a few people sent greetings his way that he didn’t hear.

“What did you want to—” He stopped just as quickly when he eventually turned around to find that the woman he thought was behind him wasn’t there anymore.

Had he been walking too fast for her to keep up? Why didn’t she say so? And now he has to go out and look for her? As if this day wasn’t already exhausting.

“The poor dear,” he heard someone say at the table a few feet away from him.

That’s when he noticed that everyone’s attention was seemingly taken by something outside the dining hall door. “What’s going on?” he asked the first person he saw. It was a drop-dead gorgeous blonde, green-eyed woman who’d made her way to the long food table next to him as she eyed him up and down like she wanted to eat him.

“Olivia Clarke is here,” the woman scoffed, almost in disdain. “Can you believe her? After what she did?”

“What?” Nikos asked, confused as he looked around like answers would jump out of thin air to fill in the gaps of what he was missing.

Olivia Clarke was the woman he had promised his papous he would look after and the one who seemed to think he was her bodyguard. He didn’t care to know much about her beyond those two facts, and yet, the way this woman glared at the empty space where Olivia should have been had his interest officially peaked.

What was her story?

“That little Clarke darling,” the woman sneered, “showing her face in public and walking around like she isn’t the snake we’ve always suspected her to be.”

“Darling, let’s not disturb our host,” a wrinkly old man interrupted the woman as he put a hand around her in a manner of possession that was, quite frankly, not warranted.

The last thing on Nikos’ mind was showing any interest in a woman, especially this one whose words about Olivia rubbed him the wrong way for some reason. He just wanted to be away from her presence now, pretty much the same way the woman wanted to be away from the old man’s presence—if her flinching when he touched her was anything to go by.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he rushed out, wanting to leave before they did things that would give him nightmares for days. The man’s hand had been much lower on her back than what’s considered polite in public. Nikos’ suspicions about Olivia’s whereabouts were confirmed when he got to his house and heard her stomping around the upper stairs. “Food will be here soon,” he said as he entered her room. Naturally, he would have knocked first, but the door was wide open and he could see her back as she hunched over something on the bed.

“No thanks,” she said distractedly, then rushed out of sight. Nikos moved further into the room, driven by the need to know if she was doing okay. “I’m leaving,” she announced as she got back into the room, a bag in hand.

“Why?” he asked, taken aback.

Now that he was fully in the room, he could see her bags and everything thrown around haphazardly.

“I just... I can’t stay here,” she said, throwing the smaller bag into the large suitcase on her bed and then rushing away once again.

“Why not?” He tried to press when she came back to the room, but she didn’t respond. She just shook her head like she didn’t want to have this conversation. “Okay, could you at least eat first?” he asked, choosing not to pursue whatever was going on with her. Besides, if she left, then he won’t have to do whatever she wanted the way his papous wanted him to. “My papous would kill me if I let you leave without feeding you.”

“Your papous?” She looked up at him, confused, while still hunched around the overflowing suitcase she was trying to close.

“My grandfather,” he elaborated.

“I get that!” she said with a little agitation, “What I don’t get is why your papous would care if I ate food or not.”

The doorbell rang downstairs, alerting him of the arrival of their food.

“My papous owns this place,” he said nonchalantly. “You are his guest, so, of course, he would care if you ate or not.”

He missed seeing the look of shock Olivia shot his way as he moved to go receive their food.