Chapter 31
CARRIE
Their lips touched and Carrie pressed her mouth against his, full of an urgency that she didn’t recognise.
She didn’t hear the gulls or the shouts of a group playing football, didn’t feel the breeze whip up dried seaweed that brushed against her leg.
Every sense was locked on him, a prison of their own making.
Dimitrios kissed her back, gently at first, until she sensed his urgency too as his arm went around her back and he pulled her even closer, until her breasts pressed against his chest, that salty sea breeze unable to lessen the heat between them.
But then his arms fell to his sides and the prison doors opened. ‘No. This is a bad idea. I am bad news. This cannot happen,’ he said, breathing heavily.
Not losing eye contact, pulse racing, she stepped closer, slipped her fingers across the band of his trousers and drew him near again.
‘That didn’t feel like bad news to me,’ she whispered. ‘That felt like the most brilliant headline ever.’
His eyes crinkled. ‘Don’t do that. Don’t make me laugh. This is serious, Carrie.’
She slipped her thumb between a gap in his shirt and rubbed it slowly across the firm chest.
Dimitrios groaned and took her hand away. He sat down on the sand, head in his hands, and then raised his chin to face the sea. Carrie sat next to him.
‘Ever since I’ve become famous, people close to me have been badly affected.’
‘Like your dad? But you know you can’t take the blame for that. Accidents happen.’
‘There’s Mum too,’ he continued, still staring at the horizon as a ship passed in the distance.
‘They divorced years ago. She’s remarried and lives in America.
I see her when I tour. Once people found out about me, they started badgering her constantly.
My records are a big hit over there. Her stepchildren have become jealous and it causes arguments with her husband, Hank, who doesn’t like the attention.
I’ve offered to buy them a home if they want to move, but Hank called that charity.
One of the stepkids wants to work in event management and I suggested he tour with me and learn some of the ropes.
I’d pay all expenses.’ He sighed. ‘I never got a reply.’
‘Then that’s their problem, not yours,’ she said firmly. ‘You aren’t responsible for the way people react to your success – that’s down to them. And you have tried to help.’
He shrugged. ‘Then there was my last girlfriend, a couple of years ago. She was constantly trolled online about her appearance and even got a death threat. That letter she received really scared her and the trolling led to eating problems.’
Carrie moved closer. ‘That’s really awful. But it’s not your fault the way fans behave.’
‘I was gutted when she left, even though I’ve been able to see, since, that my feelings for her weren’t as deep as I thought. I didn’t miss her like I should have, whilst touring. In retrospect… I was simply glad to finally have a girlfriend who wasn’t just with me for the fame.’
‘You’ve had a lot of that?’
‘God yes. The signs kick in pretty early. They want you to meet their friends almost straightaway. There’s a constant request for selfies and they dress up the whole time in case any paparazzi are around.’
‘You don’t need to worry about that with me,’ she said and ruffled her windswept hair even more. They smiled.
‘And Poseidon… Some nights, when I miss her on my bed, I lie awake worrying that she was actually taken. Is she locked up somewhere or being treated badly?’ He shook his head. ‘You see? It’s dangerous getting to know me; dangerous for me to care about things.’
Thinking about Eliza’s last email, Carrie turned to face him, put her hand on his chin and gently moved his face to meet hers. ‘It’s dangerous to let other people run your life. That’s what you’re doing when, really, all that matters is that you follow your heart.’
He put a hand over hers and turned his head to the ocean again.
‘Seeing as we’re sharing…’ Her cheeks blushed a deep red.
Dimitrios looked back at her. ‘What’s wrong?’
She exhaled as a jogger ran by behind them. ‘I’m going to tell you something that I’m not proud of. Recently I ruined my relationship with my best friends, Ariana and Rae, the kindest, most fun women ever. I was all over the place when Mum died last year but that’s no excuse for what I did…’
He took both her hands and lifted them to his mouth, then kissed them one by one.
Carrie could have cried. ‘You don’t know what I’m going to say yet.’
‘It doesn’t matter. I’m doing what you said – following my heart. Whatever it is, Carrie, I know, for sure, you won’t have meant to hurt anyone. You are right,’ he continued. ‘I have been letting my fame rule my life. That has to change because it’s not something I can control. I have to try.’
‘And I must find the life I really need. My friends disowned me because… I created a fake Instagram profile and didn’t tell them about it.
They thought it meant I was ashamed of them but…
’ She told him about the photos, how she’d edited them, the boost it gave her to see the numbers of likes and followers growing, wrongly thinking that would fill the void inside.
Dimitrios listened until she stopped and didn’t speak, whilst waves continued to lap the beach not far from their feet.
‘Say something. Say you don’t hate me,’ she muttered.
‘I couldn’t hate you, Carrie! Never! In a way, we are both the same – we’ve both, at some point, chased fame. We’ve both discovered it’s not that great. At the beginning my friends told me I was becoming a jerk – they nipped it in the bum, as you English say?’
‘In the bud,’ she said and smiled.
‘For that I am, and will always be, grateful to them.’
‘You’re right. I should be grateful to Ariana and Rae. If it weren’t for them, I’d still be living that fake life online and putting all of my hopes into that, instead of taking real-life action and ending up in Paros.’
As soon as she got back to the villa, she’d delete the Carrie Crusoe Greek account. For a while she’d avoid Instagram completely. A burst of relief popped inside, as if she’d been released of a huge weight – the weight of trying to meet strangers’ expectations.
‘Exactly. What could be better than sitting on a beach with a Greek boss who is only going to pay you with chips and pitta bread?’
‘So you’re my boss now, are you?’ she said and wiggled her eyebrow. ‘What would you like me to do?’ she asked in a sultry tone.
They laughed as he jumped up and pulled Carrie to her feet. ‘I’d like you to meet Sofia and get on with your training! Brace yourself for the hen party. It’s going to be one noisy celebration!’
She gazed up at him. ‘Are we all right then?’ She waved her hand in the air, between them.
Dimitrios bent down and kissed her on the lips. ‘As long as you are sure, Carrie. I am also Giannis GoGo. I love my music. Despite everything, my career won’t change.’
‘You’re officially the sexiest man on the planet. What woman wouldn’t be sure about that?’
His eyes twinkled. ‘No pressure then.’
‘None at all. Nope. Nuh uh.’
Those dark eyes, the colour of forests at night, twinkled across The Bar at her all evening as she trained with Sofia on working the till and making drinks.
It wasn’t so different from her job at The Niterie and after a while the old confidence came back.
A lot of the customers spoke English and she muddled through with those who didn’t.
Sofia showed her how to make a lovely cocktail called an ouzito.
She pointed out where the garnishes were kept, and the cleaning products too, for spillages.
For her first few shifts, Carrie would only serve drinks and clear tables.
Then she’d move on to taking the food orders.
It was a good thing she already had experience as once the hen party arrived, Sofia became too busy to talk and the other staff didn’t stand still either.
Dimitrios checked in on her from time to time, in between mucking in with the bar work and playing host. Locals clapped him on the back and he danced with those celebrating the imminent wedding.
By the time the crowds were thinning out and people started to leave, shortly after one o’clock, Carrie felt as if she’d worked there for months.
About to finish a black coffee Sofia had given her – the bartender had made a trayful, on the house, for the very tipsy hen party – Dimitrios came over.
‘How was it? Have we scared you off?’
‘No.’ She pushed his chest gently. ‘It kinda feels like home.’
‘Can I ask one last thing of you?’ He took her hand and led her over to the corner of the room, where the piano stood. He picked up the guitar. ‘Play me – play us – something, Carrie.’
‘Absolutely not! I haven’t played in public for years!’
‘No time like the present. If you are worried about the attention, well… no offence but I don’t think half of the people in here are conscious.’
‘No way!’
‘Why not?’ He raised one eyebrow. ‘Not letting other people and their potential reactions run your life, are you?’
‘Bastard,’ she muttered.
He walked off grinning. Nervously, she sat down on the nearby stool.
What would she play? Pop? Rock? Country?
There was one song that she and Mum would sing along to, at the top of their voices, when it came to the chorus.
The neighbours even joined in once, through the adjoining wall, and Carrie and her mum couldn’t stop laughing.
It wasn’t the hardest song she’d ever learnt, so would be perfect after all this time.
From across the room, Dimitrios gave the thumbs-up. ‘To finish the night off,’ he announced to everyone, ‘a song from our new English friend, Carrie, who is going to be helping out at The Bar for a while.’ He repeated the sentence in Greek.
Everyone turned to face her.
Crap.