Chapter Five
Love
November, Denver, Colorado…
Helena gazed out the first-class window as the plane cruised toward Denver International Airport. The Rocky Mountains stretched below, their rugged, snow-capped peaks catching the morning sunlight against a canvas of deep blue sky.
Ten months had passed since Raph had ended their relationship, and he’d done it with his characteristic directness.
“I’ve been feeling claustrophobic,” he’d said, his eyes flat and unreadable.
“And I think things have been moving a little too fast.” He’d been quick to add that it wasn’t her fault, that he was probably the one who’d had his foot on the accelerator, but that he’d since realized he wasn’t ready for such a serious relationship.
Helena had sat there, at the foot of his bed, wrapped in a towel. She’d been in shock at first, stunned that this man who had, up until that night, vowed to do anything to make her happy, was now saying he felt suffocated by her.
She’d stayed in one of his guest rooms that night, the sting of rejection keeping her from sleep.
But by the time she boarded her flight the following morning, the weight of unrequited love, and the guilt she had been carrying for months began to lift, and she returned home to Thea, feeling grateful for the time she’d spent with Raph, and the love he had shown her during a transitional phase in her life.
She’d been struggling to tell him that what they shared wasn’t the deep connection she craved, and there he was, presenting the conclusion of their relationship on a silver platter.
In the end, his breaking up with her had been a gift.
Helena had long had a habit of confusing lust for love, and her relationship with Raph had only strengthened her resolve to break out of that toxic routine.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our initial decent into the Denver municipal area. In just a few moments, our cabin crew will begin collecting service items…” a flight attendant’s voice called through the intercom.
Helena checked her watch and finished the last of her coffee––cold, but still much needed after rushing to make her pre-dawn flight this morning.
She was visiting Denver to meet with Hammon Jones, a private collector who owned several pieces of kham trai furniture dating to the fifteenth century.
The Southeast Asian Cultural Institute in L.A.
was hosting an exhibition on ancient, Vietnamese mother-of-pearl inlay, and it was Helena’s job to convince Hammon to loan them some of his priceless pieces.
It was the art of kham trai that had first sparked Helena’s love for Asian craftsmanship and artistry, but if she were being honest, the assignment wasn’t the only reason her pulse had quickened when Lisa, her contact at SEACI, had put her in touch with the Denver collector.
Tele lived in Denver, too.
Helena hadn’t spoken to any one in Raph’s family since the breakup, and she’d missed them more than she imagined she would. When she’d met them last October, and they had all welcomed her with open arms, Helena had felt a sense of belonging for the first time since her mom died.
Jordan had flown to L.A. shortly before Christmas to take Helena shopping––filling the role of friend and boyfriend’s mom perfectly.
They’d laughed about that famous scene in Pretty Woman as they browsed the boutiques of Rodeo Drive, then lunched among some of Los Angeles’ most recognizable faces at Benzina, before splurging on spa treatments at the Beverly Hills Hotel.
And just a few days after the holidays, when a blizzard had stranded her in New York during a layover from Paris, Neo had insisted she stay with him at his Manhattan apartment instead of waiting out the storm alone at a hotel.
For two days, they’d indulged in the delicious food prepared by his personal chef, and watched the entire Die Hard film series in front of a fire, as the city fell silent beneath a blanket of snow outside his expansive windows.
During Die Hard with a Vengeance, Neo had gotten a call from someone. He’d paused the movie to tell them he couldn’t make it to their event because his “sister-in-law” was in town unexpectedly.
“Your sister-in-law?” Helena had questioned when he ended the call. “Don’t I have to be married to your brother for me to be your in-law?”
“I’d be surprised if he hasn’t bought the ring already,” he’d responded coolly before unpausing the film.
The idea of marrying Raph had been a welcomed thought at one time. Afterall, their background, commonalities, and lifestyles seemed a perfect match. But it wasn’t until she’d gotten to know Tele that Helena had realized just how wrong she had been.
Meeting Tele had changed everything.
The playful banter, his mischievous nature, the electricity that crackled beneath the surface––it had all left her feeling alive and authentically herself. Like she was a little girl again, carefree and safe with her doting aunt and free-spirited bohemian mother.
Yes, it was Tele she longed to see more than anyone.
Judging from how eagerly he’d rearranged his afternoon schedule when she’d finally worked up the courage to text him this morning, Helena had a feeling that he’d missed her company, too.
The Main Street Grille was situated on the corner of 17th and Baker Street, directly across from Tele’s office, and offered a view of the busy intersection.
The sleek black facade and subtle gold lettering matched its reputation as Denver's premier steakhouse.
Inside, dark wood and warm lighting created an intimate atmosphere, while the open kitchen allowed diners to watch highly skilled chefs work their magic over open flames.
Helena sat at a reserved corner table, fidgeting with the evil-eye charm on her phone case.
She kept checking and rechecking her reflection in the window, trying to keep her nerves at bay.
Among the business lunch crowd in their dark suits and tight pencil skirts, she stuck out like a sore thumb.
Her ivory cashmere sweater, knee-high black leather riding boots, black tights, and snakeskin miniskirt were not exactly business attire, or even business casual.
But after learning from Lisa that Hammon was “a leg man”, Helena had been determined to use every tool in her box to secure the loan for SEACI.
Her morning meeting with him had gone well, her outfit having the desired, disarming effect.
She only hoped Tele didn’t read too much into her attire.
Or did she? She pressed her lips together, admitting the truth was murkier: she wanted him to notice.
Was he a leg man, too? Or would he have preferred her in something with a revealing neckline, like the red silk blouse in her suitcase?
Stop it, Helena. This is just a casual lunch.
Casual or not, heat pulsed between her legs at the thought of dressing for Tele’s pleasure…and of being undressed by him. Hot with nervous anticipation, she untied her burgundy cardigan from around her shoulders and draped it over the back of her chair.
“éna mesimerianó íne, típota parapáno,” Helena whispered, teasing open the collar of her sweater to cool herself. It’s just lunch, nothing more…
It was exactly noon when she spotted him crossing the street and heading toward the restaurant’s revolving door. Her breath caught in her throat as he took long, confident strides in his charcoal gray slacks and a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the top beneath a black fleece jacket.
Helena straightened her spine, tucked her phone into her purse, and smoothed her hair in its ponytail one last time. “éna mesimerianó íne.”
With only a one-hour window before his next meeting, Tele had called the waitress over before he’d even reached the table, and they’d ordered on the fly as he sat.
“The usual,” he’d said, which apparently meant a medium-rare ribeye and, on the waitress’ recommendation, she’d gone for the salmon.
It had felt rushed, and Helena had begun to fear that she might have read too much into his desire to see her.
But once the server brought their iced teas, they fell into conversation as naturally as breathing.
“I’m really sorry about what happened with Raph,” he said, pouring two packets of sugar into his glass, his voice carrying genuine sympathy. “I know that must have been difficult.”
“Thanks.” She laid her napkin across her lap, her gaze lowered, unwilling to let slip that Raph breaking up with her had been more of a blessing than a curse. “I’m just glad you agreed to see me. I wasn’t sure if this would be awkward…”
“Maybe for Raph.”
Helena blinked and looked up, searching his green eyes for the reason behind his surprising remark.
“So…” He winked. “It’s a good thing he’s not here.” That familiar, playful smile spread across his face like the sunrise.
Oh, how she’d missed that smile.
Helena laughed, realizing that lightening the mood had been Tele’s intention all along.
That was only one of the things she loved about him.
As they waited for lunch to arrive, Tele told her about his latest project, a mixed-use development in Boulder that would integrate affordable housing with retail space.
His eyes lit up as he described the community gardens they were planning, and the way the buildings would complement the natural landscape instead of dominating it.
And as they ate, she shared with him stories from her recent travels, the long-thought-destroyed Egon Schiele she’d discovered at an estate sale in Bel Air, and the emerging painter she’d stumbled upon on the tiny Cyclade island of Sifnos, whose sculptures were now being courted by dozens of galleries across Europe.
“You light up when you talk about your work” he said, leaning back in his chair.
Her lips parted in a wide smile as pleasant memories of that day flooded her.
“It’s like finding hidden treasure––when I discover a new artist or secure a piece for a client or gallery.
When I find someone whose work deserves to be seen…
” She paused, trying to find words that best described the feeling.
“It’s like I’m connecting pieces of the world that belong together. ”
“That’s a beautiful thought, Helena. You have a beautiful way of looking at the world, you know that?”
The words were soft, deliberate. She held his gaze and knew then that whatever connections existed between them were not dead, but full of life and possibilities.
Helena felt a sense of completeness with Tele, and looking into his eyes was like coming home. She could see their future together––a house filled with happy children, a life overflowing with joy, both of them choosing to make new memories. Not dwelling on who or what they’d lost.
“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you come up to Boulder with me.”
“What? Now?” Helena set down her fork, the silver tines clinking softly against her plate.
“Yes now. Right now. We can get our dessert to-go. I want to show you the proposed site. You can tell me if I’ve made the right connections there.”
“But I don’t know anything about construction. Raph––” She flinched. Damnit.
Tele’s mouth twisted slightly at the mention of his brother.
Helena shifted in her seat. “We didn’t really talk about G3 business…”
He reached for his iced tea, slurping up the last drops through the straw. “Well,” he said, setting the empty glass on the table. “I’m sure he was just afraid your ideas would outshine his. I, on the other hand, have absolutely no ego what-so-ever.”
Helena snorted. “Oh, I’m sure…”
“Seriously. You can tell me I’m wrong all you want. It won’t bother me in the least.”
Tele’s self-deprecating humor was his most appealing trait, and a smile tugged at her lips, despite herself.
“So, will you join me?” He tilted his head, hope shining in his green eyes.
Helena checked her watch, her heart skipping. “Don’t you have a meeting in five minutes?”
“What are they going to do? Fire me? Come on.” Tele stood and reached into his back pocket. “I’ll have you back at your hotel by sunset.” He pulled three, one-hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and slid them beneath his empty plate.
It wasn’t as though she had somewhere else to be. She’d already done what she’d been sent to Denver to do. Why would she deny herself more time with Tele when it was the only thing she wanted now? “You’ll have me back by sunset?” she asked, trying not to seem too eager. “Promise?”
“By sunset.” He offered her his hand as she rose from her seat, and she took it without hesitation. “No pumpkins for you, Stachtopouta.”
“Cinderella?” Helena laughed. “Didn’t she have until midnight?”
“Yes, but she also had the benefit of a fairy godmother. All you have, Ms. Christou, is me.”