3. Tia
I turned in front of the mirror, smoothing the teal dress over my hips. “Okay... be honest,” I said, glancing at Kat, who was sprawled across her four-poster like a bored queen, scrolling social media.
She was dressed in a thin-strapped black silk dress that clung to her slender frame. Her long blonde hair fell in loose, perfect curls around her shoulders, and her makeup emphasized her high cheekbones and made her blue eyes seem even more striking against her tan.
She didn’t even look up. Just went, “Cute,” and kept scrolling.
“That’s it?” I asked, half-laughing, half-panicking .
She looked up again with an exaggerated sigh.
“Theé, Tia, chill. It’s not like anyone’s going to be looking at you, anyway.
” She tossed her phone onto a silk pillow and stood, smoothing her dress over her flat stomach.
“Greek men are very particular about the women they pursue. They prefer the blonde, lean look. Trust me.”
Another reminder of why I’d already decided this friendship had an expiration date. Two weeks.
Just two more weeks of these subtle jabs, these constant reminders that in Kat’s world, I would always be the supporting character to her leading role. Then I’d be back in the U.S., job hunting, and Kat would become nothing more than an occasional social media update I could easily scroll past.
Her eyes flicked over my curves again, lingering on my hips. “You should be grateful. You can just relax and enjoy the party without being hounded by guys all night. Must be nice, honestly.”
The slight curl of her lip told me everything her words didn’t. I smoothed my hand over the fabric of my dress, which I truly liked until about three seconds ago, and swallowed the urge to go and rummage through my suitcase for a tent. Or maybe a burka.
I glanced at my reflection. Yep, still rocking the hips that four years of college volleyball couldn’t slim down and the chest that makes buying button-ups a total nightmare. Not exactly fashion magazine material .
Then the quiet voice that had gotten me through hospital stays, my father’s abandonment, and through college, countered Kat’s assessment.
I’d designed buildings professors had praised.
I’d graduated with honors. My body, regardless of its shape, had been strong enough to drag a grown man from a wreck just days ago.
Kat’s comments weren’t about me at all. They were the foundation for a world where her appearance was currency, where she could dismiss me to feel more secure.
I straightened my shoulders. This dress fit me well. It complemented my skin tone, and I looked good. Period.
“Don’t overthink it,” Kat added, her voice softening in a way that somehow made it worse. “I’m trying to help. Besides, you’ll be able to enjoy the food without worrying about impressing anyone. The baklava is to die for.” She patted her flat stomach. “I’ll be having the cucumber salad, of course.”
Katalina had been more Tammy’s friend than mine. We’d been an untidy threesome of friends until Tammy had OD’d.
Every single day, I missed Tammy. I knew Tammy would have told me I looked gorgeous, would have exclaimed, “Curves for days!”
Tammy had died the day after the three of us had booked our tickets to Greece for a post-graduation trip to Kat’s homeland.
We’d all been excited, planning beach days and island hopping adventures.
Her sudden death had left me reeling, and somehow I’d ended up here, in this lavish bedroom, with a friend who wasn’t really a friend, preparing for a party where I wouldn’t fit in, according to Kat.
Maybe Kat was right about Greek men’s preferences, and if so, that was fine by me. After all, I hadn’t come to Greece looking for love or Greek men’s approval.
I came to Greece to geek out over buildings that basically invented Western architecture, to keep a promise to Tammy, and to prove I could adult without my mom hovering nearby. Not to impress random Greek guys.
Kat sidled in next to me so she could get a good look at herself in the mirror. “I’m getting married,” she said.
What now?
“To whom?” From what I knew, Kat was single.
“I saw Santo last night. Theoí mou! He looks even better than when we dated. The sex was horrible, but this man will inherit Olympus Motors one day. My future, my life, will be secured with him. My father will be proud. All I need is to get him alone tonight, since I’m ovulating.
” She adjusted her cleavage, making sure it was perfectly visible.
“His Aunt Irida has always loved me. She’s the one who invited us tonight.
“Wow. That’s… super romantic. ”
A knock at the door interrupted whatever response Kat would deliver. The door swung open without waiting for an answer, and her mother appeared in the doorway.
“Katalina, darling, the car is waiting. Your father is becoming impatient.” Her accent was thicker than Kat’s.
Towering gates opened for us as the family’s driver navigated the long drive, lined with exquisite topiary.
The massive estate gleamed white against the deepening blue of the Aegean sky.
It was a stunning example of contemporary design while holding true to the spirit of its Greek origins, as reflected in the stone colonnades, statuary, and fountains dotting the grounds.
The car pulled up to the front entrance, where a small receiving line had formed. Two elegant older women with silver hair stood at the archway greeting guest.
My heart stuttered.
There he was. Chrysanthos. The same man I’d dragged from a car three days ago.
What was he doing here?
He looked different dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his blonde hair slicked back, the small bandage above his eyebrow the only evidence of our roadside encounter.
Of course he cleaned up like a Greek god. Why wouldn’t he ?
Our eyes met instantly across the terrace. His gaze locked onto mine, then drifted down my body before returning with the faintest smile curling at his lips. Neither of us looked away.
My stomach fluttered as the same electric connection from the roadside surged between us. The memory of his lips against mine flashed unbidden through my mind, sending heat through my body. Since the encounter, I’d thought of the kiss often.
“That’s Santo’s grandmother and great-aunt,” Kat whispered, nudging me with her elbow, breaking the moment. She nodded toward the elderly women standing near him, oblivious to the silent exchange that had just occurred. “They adore me.”
My brain struggled to connect the dots as we approached the entrance, but my eyes kept drifting back to him. He was still watching me unabashedly.
“Katalina, my darling girl!” the shorter woman exclaimed, reaching for her with both hands and pulling her into a kiss on each cheek. “Look at you, still so thin. Are you eating enough?”
Kat’s usual exuberance dimmed noticeably as we approached, her personality shifting into something more subdued. She walked with grace, her movements more refined, her smile polite rather than dazzling. This was a Kat I’d never seen before.
Kat’s parents stepped forward for greetings and air kisses. Throughout the introductions, I remained aware of Chrysanthos’ s eyes still on me. Then Kat turned to him and everything clicked into horrifying place.
“Santo,” Kat said. She leaned in to kiss his cheeks, but he barely inclined his head toward her, his eyes still fixed on me.
“Katalina,” he acknowledged. Then, without waiting for her to continue, he stepped forward. “We meet again, aggelé mou?”
Annoyance flashed across Kat’s face before she composed herself. “You two know each other?”
Chrysanthos stepped even closer, completely ignoring Kat’s presence now. “She saved my life,” he said simply.
Kat’s eyes darted between us. “What is happening right now?” Her voice had lost its cultivated softness.
“Your friend pulled me from my car after an accident,” Chrysanthos explained without taking his eyes off me.
“Tia, you never mentioned this.”
“Ah,” said the woman with the kind eyes — his grandmother. She clasped my hand in both of hers. “So you’re the one who pulled my grandson from death. What a brave and beautiful thing you did, child.”
“Seriously, it wasn’t a big deal. I just… did what anyone would’ve done.”
“But they didn’t,” Chrysanthos said softly. “You did.” The invitation in his gaze made my body tingle in places it shouldn’t .
The other woman, slightly taller, stepped forward. Her eyes scanned me briefly, not unkindly.
“You acted swiftly. Good judgment under pressure. That’s rare.” She extended her hand with a firm shake. “Irida Christakis. Theia to this troublemaker.”
Kat cleared her throat loudly. “How perfectly dramatic,” she said, sliding her arm possessively through Santo’s. “Tia has always had a knack for making a big impression.“ Her smile was brittle as she tugged Santo inside. “You must tell me what you’ve been up to since breaking my heart.”
With a smooth movement, he disengaged from her grip and reached for my hand instead. “The orchestra just started,” he said. “And I owe my savior a dance.”
Before I could process what was happening, he was guiding me through the grand entrance, leaving Kat standing with his grandmother and aunt. The strength of his fingers around mine sent a shiver racing up my arm.
The opulent ballroom opened before us, and crystal chandeliers shined light over couples already swaying to the music. I should return to Kat’s side, but part of me wanted to be held by him. For just one song.
“Santo,” I whispered urgently, “We can’t just leave Kat out there.”
His thumb traced a small, distracting circle against my palm. “She’ll survive,” he murmured, turning to face me. His other hand settled at the small of my back, respectful yet somehow intimate. “You look beautiful tonight.”
I felt my cheeks warm as we began moving to the music. “This isn’t right,” I said, though I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. “Kat told me you two are getting back together.”
A shadow crossed his face, followed by a smile that transformed his features. “Is that what she said?” His hand pressed firmer against my back, bringing me closer. “I have no intention of getting back together with Katalina.”
“But she has feelings for you,” I said softly, hyperaware of his hand against my back, the slight pressure guiding me expertly through the steps of a dance I didn’t know.
“And I have feelings for you,” he said simply.
Wait. What? He had feelings for me? After two brief meetings? It seemed impossible.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” Chrysanthos continued, breaking through my thoughts.
This wasn’t happening. The look in his eyes—so intent, so focused solely on me—was something I’d never experienced before .
No man had ever looked at me that way, as if I were the only woman in the room. As if I mattered. Loyalty to Kat warred with the inexplicable pull I felt toward Santo.
The careful distance I’d maintained with men for years seemed to dissolve under his gaze.
His hand at my back felt like it belonged there, like we’d danced together countless times before.
Everything Kat had said about Greek men not finding me attractive clearly didn’t apply to Santo, and the realization was exciting.
My heart fluttered traitorously. “A date?”
“Yes, Tia. A date.” His smile deepened. “Just the two of us. No car crashes, no party, no Katalina.”
Part of me warned this was wrong. But another part, a part I rarely acknowledged, whispered that life was short and some chances only came once.
I caught sight of Kat over his shoulder, her expression thunderous as she watched us from the entrance. The guilt crashed over me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, gently extracting myself from his arms. “I can’t do this to her.”
His expression softened. “Think about it.”
I stepped back, my skin still tingling where he’d touched me. “I need the ladies’ room. ”
“Tia,” he called as I turned away. “I meant what I said. You look beautiful tonight.”
I hurried toward the corridor, my pulse racing, wondering how one man’s words could simultaneously excite and frighten me so completely.
When I entered the marble-clad bathroom with its gilded fixtures and fresh flowers, I leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths and trying to make sense of the evening’s bizarre turn of events.
Why was he being so attentive? Was it just gratitude for saving him, or did he actually desire me? Or was I just another girl—B lack girl — to add to his notch?
Guys my age never gave me a second glance, especially when I was out with Kat or Tammy. Even standing next to my mother drew attention away from me. No one ever believed she could have a twenty-two-year-old daughter.
Mom never pushed beauty standards on me. The problem was simply existing in her shadow. I was too dark, too curvy, too reserved—at least according to the guys my friends tried to set me up with.
“She seems nice, but...” I’d heard that trailing excuse enough times to know how it ended. I told myself I didn’t care .
So why were Santo’s words clinging to me like dew? I didn’t want to believe them, but it was hard not to when he looked at me like he truly wanted me.
I shouldn’t want him. He’s reckless. Cocky. Kat’s. But still… He made me want to trust him, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
A knock broke my thoughts, followed by Kat’s voice. “Tia? Let me in.”
I hesitated, then opened the door. Kat pushed past me into the bathroom.
“What exactly is going on between you and Santo?” she demanded without preamble.
“Nothing,” I said truthfully. “I’ve literally seen him twice. Total. Not exactly soulmate-level bonding.”
Kat studied my face intently, searching for any hint of deception. Finally, her posture relaxed.
“Good,” she said with a smug smile. “Because we had sex last night, and we’re planning to hook up again later.” She fluffed her hair in the mirror. “He said he wants to show me his new car.”
My stomach twisted uncomfortably, though I wasn’t sure why. “The two of you will be married before you know it.”
“I can hardly wait,” she agreed, reapplying her lipstick. “You’ll be my maid-of-honor since Tammy isn’t here to do it. It’s decided.” With a final appraising glance at her reflection, she turned and left .
Drawing a deep breath, I slipped out of the bathroom. Instead of returning to the party, I followed a different corridor, leading to a set of French doors opening onto the gardens.
I stepped outside and inhaled deeply, letting the salty breeze fill my lungs. “Tammy, I wish you were here. At least you’d tell me if I was being stupid.”