Chapter 5
This crazy woman had no idea who he was.
This was good. This was really good. Usually Kostas saw the recognition flash in people’s eyes the second they caught sight of him; other times it took a few minutes, but it was always inevitable.
Except there was no read from her at all yet.
Another thing he also kind of liked was the way she rarely stopped talking.
She was making absolutely everything sound interesting on their walk through the grounds of this hotel, heading towards what he hoped would be an air-conditioned suite with a shower he could set to ice cold.
She was going to be a mine of information about the area he was planning to completely change.
‘Buggies,’ Faye said, pointing to half a dozen small golf-cart-style vehicles parked in a row. ‘We have them for guests with mobility problems but the penthouse suite also gets exclusive use of one.’
‘Can I drive it into the breakfast room, fill it up with spanakopita and apple juice and drive it back to my suite?’ he asked.
She stopped walking then, looked at him as if trying to gauge if he was being serious. And he returned the gaze, kept looking, silence elongating, giving him more time to acknowledge her unusual grey eyes. Damn, why was he doing that? He definitely needed to sleep…
‘You would never get it up the steps,’ Faye told him, voice deadpan.
‘Wow,’ Kostas said, amused. ‘You really considered it as a serious request.’
‘You are a guest,’ Faye stated. ‘It’s my job to give my guests’ requests serious consideration. Plus, I know you would never get it up the steps.’ She carried on walking, past a circular garden area that didn’t look quite as well-kept as the manicured lawns.
‘Wait,’ he said, moving to catch up. ‘How do you know I would not get it up the steps? Are you thinking I am a bad driver?’
‘Yes,’ Faye said. ‘It was something about the way you scaled that gate.’
‘OK… this is harsh criticism of a guest who could not get into his accommodation because of a malfunction,’ he said, following her.
‘And if you try to drive a buggy up the steps of my hotel and into the dining room there will be malfunctions of many kinds, starting with rescinding your reservation.’
‘All this before I have even seen my room.’
‘Suite,’ Faye answered.
‘OK, let’s stop walking now.’ He reached out a hand and took hold of her arm.
She spun around, fire in those grey eyes. ‘What are you doing?’
‘You are going to wait here,’ he said, letting her go again. ‘And I am going to get my buggy.’
‘What?’
‘Just wait here,’ he said, backing away.
‘There’s no need for a buggy, it’s—’
‘I am a guest with a request. You have to humour me.’
* * *
The man was currently not behaving how VIPs usually behaved.
As Faye watched him jogging back the way they had come towards the bank of electric vehicles outside reception, she took him in anew.
Baggy sports shorts, a plain T-shirt, designer trainers, dark hair that was obviously tended to regularly – the same with his beard.
What made him important? Was he famous or rich?
Or was there something else that gave him status?
She didn’t even know his name yet. All that was marked on the system was a number – which he knew for identification purposes. Very espionage.
She took a deep breath. It was humid and she was tired right down to her bones.
Summertime always did it to her – early starts, long hours, late finishes – and as each season passed, the hard work seemed to take more and more of a toll on body and mind.
But it kept her moving, didn’t give her time to dwell.
Separation and divorce had been the right decision but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still a work-in-progress when it came to her feelings.
She checked her watch. She had a to-do list for tomorrow to run through before she could switch off, and she was starting to wonder how long this newcomer was going to keep her occupied with mad demands before he let her leave.
She shook her head as she heard the electric motor hum quietly into action and then she heard him try to gun it.
Except the vehicles only went a maximum of fifteen miles an hour and, travelling over the grass, this very tall guy sat in this ‘toy’ looked so funny Faye couldn’t help but laugh as he approached… slowly.
‘You are laughing! Why are you laughing at one of your guests?’ he called.
‘Sshh!’ Faye ordered. ‘Quietly.’
‘There is a rule of how loud I can be?’
‘You are Greek, no?’ Faye said. ‘You know the hours of quiet.’
Finally, the vehicle pulled up alongside her. ‘Old rules.’
‘Well, we are in Corfu. We like tradition.’
‘Yeah,’ he answered. ‘I am aware. So, get in.’ He swung the small door open.
‘I’m not getting in there,’ Faye said. ‘They are for the guests and I am quite capable of walking.’
‘I am a guest who needs showing where to go and you can’t do all that talking at me if you are walking behind me.’
‘Talking at you?’ Faye exclaimed. She knew he was a guest she had to look after and take care of, but exhaustion was getting to her, as were his comments.
‘Sorry. I meant giving me much-needed information. I would appreciate more of it actually. Come on, hop in.’
Faye looked at the buggy and this man with the tall, broad athletic physique looking so squished inside it. What was she thinking of doing?
‘I am Kostas, by the way. Kostas Petsas.’
Hmm, something about that name was familiar. But, then again, there weren’t a multitude of Greek names. She knew at least two dozen Spyroses in the immediate locale and almost as many Nikoses.
‘And you?’ Kostas asked.
‘And I don’t believe I am getting in this cart,’ Faye said, climbing aboard next to him.
‘I meant, what is your name?’
‘Mrs Lawson.’
‘Mrs?’
‘Yes.’
‘That is an unusual first name.’
She looked at him. ‘Amusing.’
‘OK, Mrs Lawson, which way must we drive? To the right or the left?’
‘Straight on. Over there. But honestly, it would be faster to walk.’
‘But less fun,’ he answered, grinning.
With that said, he put his foot on the pedal that made the cart drive and they began to move, albeit at a very sedate pace.
‘This is not fifteen miles an hour,’ he remarked. ‘It moves like a tortoise.’
‘It is primarily for guests with mobility problems, as I already said, so speed is not its purpose.’
‘So, take the time to tell me about the hotel as we crawl along.’
‘Well, there is a highly detailed folder of everything you need to know about it in the suite. Timings for breakfast and dinner, rules for the pool—’
‘Rules for the pool? What kind of rules?’
‘There’s a speed limit for the breaststroke.’
He laughed loud and unreservedly, and Faye suddenly felt like she was top billing on Live at the Apollo. No one laughed at her humour that much – even Saffron gave more of an eye roll than enthusiasm.
‘That was good,’ Kostas said. ‘What else? There seems to be a lot of rules.’
‘Are you on holiday, Mr Petsas? Or is this a business trip? You haven’t said.’
‘Have I not?’
‘No,’ Faye said.
‘And you have not told me your first name. So perhaps we are even, Mrs Lawson.’
‘And if you pull up on the left here,’ Faye said, preparing to get out of the vehicle.
‘We are here already?’ Kostas asked, putting on the brakes. ‘It is like the short coach ride from the airplane to the terminal at Corfu Airport.’
She got out and it was then her phone began to ring. She took it out of her pocket. The medical centre. Surely not another guest with a problem. ‘I have to take this.’
‘Really? When you are checking me out… in, I mean… checking me in.’
She looked at him then and smiled. ‘The code to get into the suite has been sent to you on Viber I believe. Go up the steps here or, if you want to take the buggy further you will need to go—’
‘Fruit basket?’ he asked. He got out of the cart now, moved to stand next to her.
‘What?’ Her phone stopped ringing.
‘Is there a fruit basket in my suite? You know, a warm Corfiot welcome package.’
‘You did not request a fruit basket.’
‘It does not come as standard?’
Her phone started to ring again. ‘I apologise, but as this is the medical centre, I need to answer.’
‘OK,’ Kostas said with a nod. ‘But in an hour or so, once I have showered, I want you to bring me a fruit basket.’
Oh, now Faye was getting all the flavour of a VIP ego, and she could feel that frustration to snap out a response rising in her. But Faye was a professional. She smiled. ‘I will arrange for a fruit basket, Mr Petsas.’ She really needed to answer this call.
‘That’s not what I asked for,’ he stated. ‘I said I want you to bring it to me.’
The phone stopped ringing again. She really hoped the call was just clearing things up about the pool incident with Gregory and not an emergency.
‘Well, the fruit basket deliveries aren’t really my job.’
‘Tonight, I would like that to change. Parakaló.’
The ‘please’ in Greek at the end was not said as a request, but as a demand and, as Faye’s phone started to erupt again, she made this quick. ‘Fine. In an hour I will do my best to ensure you have every Corfiot fruit your heart desires.’
He put his hands on his hips and made direct eye contact with her. ‘Every Corfiot fruit my heart desires? That’s some promise.’
She smiled. ‘Fisika. Of course.’