Chapter 32
Angelos had never been truly intimate with anyone.
He played. He demanded. He fucked. Always he held something of himself back, but that was getting increasingly difficult with Mia.
Their physical relationship had become personal, intimate.
Even now, as she laughed at something he said, he could feel her curling around the darkest parts of his soul.
The parts he’d given up to a shadowy self long ago.
- One Week with the Greek
NIKOS
E verything had changed.
Days rolled into each other, and Callie and I spent the nights (and sometimes the mornings) wrapped in each other’s arms. I couldn’t even remember a time when we’d disliked each other or that I used to wish she’d go away.
Now, I couldn’t get enough of her.
As we grew closer, though, I knew I’d have to share the crucial personal information that I’d been withholding. But what we had was so fragile, as was her trust in me, and I didn’t want to ruin it all by saying, “Hey, by the way, I have a wife.”
So I blocked it from my mind, rationalizing that I didn’t know where our relationship was headed yet. Was it serious? Could it be, considering her goal was to go back to a big city one day? The very idea of being in a big city sucked my breath away.
Since the disappointing news about my grandfather’s cup, I’d given up hope of ultimately blocking the construction of the resort. Sure, maybe we’d hear back from the Aegean Sanctuary Foundation about our petition to protect the southern tip of the island, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath.
Callie was right. At least we had her guiding the project. I no longer doubted her determination. I didn’t want the resort here, but I did want her.
I also wanted to be free from the secret I was carrying. It was time to put an end to this marriage one way or another. After my final appointment of the day—Kyria Anastasia and her varicose veins—I shot off an email to Nathalie.
Hey Nathalie,
Do you have a free minute to talk today?
Nick
She wrote back not even five minutes later. Always an early riser, she was probably going to the gym before taking the train to her Upper East Side office. She still lived in the apartment we’d shared near Gramercy Park, the one her parents had bought for us as a wedding gift.
Hey Nick,
I’m in Cabo with friends. Is this about the paperwork you sent me? I promise I’ll look at it as soon as I get back. Couldn’t we wait until after campaign season? I just don’t want the press using it to attack my dad. You’ve been very patient already, I know. I just need some extra time.
BTW, did I tell you I saw your mom last week?
XO, Nat
Great, all I needed was Nathalie giving my mom false hope.
We’d remained friends after we split, so I could understand why my mother was convinced we’d get back together.
But we both agreed we never should have gotten married in the first place.
We were young and stupid, and we didn’t have much in common besides the stress of med school to begin with. I wrote back:
That’s a year from now. No, I’m sorry, I think I’ve been more than understanding about this. It’s time, Nathalie. Give me a call when you’re back in New York.
I closed my computer and rubbed my hand down my face. I couldn’t believe that I had to beg for a divorce. How did I get here?
Pushing it all from my mind, I went to meet Callie at her place.
* * *
When I arrived, Callie was pacing around like an angry panther in a cage.
She threw the door open for me and then proceeded to fling utensils around in the kitchen like she was the knife throwing act in the circus.
I approached her gingerly, afraid she’d turn on me with her claws bared.
I didn’t know who had offended her, but I was glad that it wasn’t me for once.
I slid onto the barstool and placed a plastic bag with the squid I’d brought for dinner on the table. She peeked inside and her lips pinched together. “Did you catch this?”
“No, Panos did. If you remember, I was still in your bed this morning at nine. Too late to go out,” I reminded her, hoping memories of our lazy morning in bed would calm her down. No such luck.
“They’re awfully small. I don’t know how I’ll be able to feed everyone,” she complained, scouring the countertop with a sponge to get rid of the water stain I’d left with my glass.
“Everyone?” I asked, annoyed that I wouldn’t have her to myself. I had imagined another leisurely night alone, fooling around as we cooked, then making out on the couch, trying out her toys again like we had the other night. Maybe reading more of Angelos’s adventures.
“I invited Teresa and Yiannis. You might as well invite Panos too, since he did all the hard work.”
“Will you kick them out by midnight?”
“Why? Will your dick turn into a pumpkin if I don’t?”
I frowned. “Dare I ask what or who has put you in such a foul mood?”
She stopped scrubbing the counter and sighed, tossing the sponge into the sink. “I just found out that I’m no longer going to be featured in Tastemakers magazine’s ‘30 Under 30’ feature. The photo shoot is canceled.”
“A 30 Under 30 list? You know those things are bullshit, right?” I scoffed.
She glared at me. “It might be bullshit to you, but in the restaurant industry, those lists can help launch your career. I need all the publicity I can get to make sure I keep this job and don’t end up on the line again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve already been passed over at my old restaurant by this other chef, Roman.
” She said his name like she was going to vomit.
“He was always rubbing it in my face. Then he got the job in Switzerland and now—he’s going to be featured in Tastemakers !
Apparently, a sex tape with him and some actress was leaked online last week, and his name is on everyone’s lips.
” She wrinkled her adorable little nose.
“So Gaz—my ex . . . my boss—decided to capitalize on the publicity. He’s doing this on purpose, just to fuck with me. ”
My hand curled into a fist under the table. That fucking guy. She never mentioned him to me and I never asked. I didn’t want to imagine him with his sleazy hands anywhere near here, let alone on her.
“And . . .” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “It might be my last chance to be on that list. I’m going to be thirty in less than a year!”
“Good God, the horror!” I laughed and pulled her against me. She buried her head against my shoulder.
“This probably all sounds insignificant to you, and I know it is, especially considering what other people are going through. It’s just something I’ve always wanted.”
I bit my cheek. “You’ve always wanted to be on a 30 Under 30 list?”
“It sounds silly when you say it like that, but yeah, I’m someone who needs external validation, okay? I like collecting gold stars. I wanted to prove to everyone that I’m talented and successful.”
“Who do you need to prove that to? As someone who is a few years past any hope of getting on a 30 Under 30 list—and therefore much older and wiser than you—I can assure you: You don’t have to accomplish things by a certain age.”
“Says the multilingual doctor, humanitarian, sex god.”
“Sex god?” I rubbed my hands down her arms.
“You’re also bullheaded killjoy sometimes too.” She pushed me away. She did that whenever things got too real, I’d noticed. It was a kind of protective mechanism that I wondered if she even knew she did it. Probably not.
“Like tonight,” she continued. “You’re going to try to convince me not to invite the others over because we’d have a better time by ourselves.”
“You read my mind.”
“Yes, you’re terribly predictable.”
I brought my hand to my heart. “Ouch, that hurt.”
She had effectively changed the subject, but I still felt like there was something else under the surface that she wasn’t telling me.
That makes of two of us.
I thought back to my earlier conversation with Nathalie. I couldn’t tell Callie about it now. Not when she was feeling this vulnerable. Maybe tomorrow.
Or maybe Nathalie would have signed the papers by next week and then I wouldn’t be lying when I admitted I had an ex-wife.
I just couldn’t ruin things now.