Chapter 29
HOLLY
Fuming, I walk without a plan. The only thing I know is that I need to be far, far away from Anna. I don’t think I’ve been this livid with her—I don’t think I’ve been this livid ever—since her last stunt.
People crowd the sidewalk, moving around me like water past a river rock. I stop to look around, get my bearings, only to realize I’ve reached the one place I had no intention of going near on this trip. Across the street is Vezene Restaurant.
I tighten my grip on the urn. “This? Really, Z?” I mutter to the empty vessel in my arms.
I may not have wanted to come here, but I can’t deny that Vezene Restaurant might be the one place I need to go.
I cross the narrow road before I change my mind.
A handsome young man with dark curly hair and an impossibly friendly smile shows me to a table on the patio.
The view is, in a word, breathtaking. The aromas from the open fire where the chef prepares the daily specialties is softened and enhanced by the salty sea air.
Only a handful of tables are occupied, and I avoid eye contact with those who look my way when I set Zoe’s empty urn on the chair next to me.
I order a Mastiha on the rocks, to the surprised look of approval from the waiter. He returns with it shortly along with a small bowl of olives. “Efcharistó,” I thank him.
I take a sip and close my eyes as the liquid pools on my tongue a second before sliding down my throat, straight to this same patio five years ago.
A woman laughs in the distance, a familiar sound that makes me instantly smile.
I shift my gaze from the sea to the bar across the patio, where Zoe had been leaning close to an adonis of a man.
He said something into her ear and her face lit up. She caught me looking and winked.
Anna leaned across me, plucked an olive from the bowl, and popped it into her mouth. “Can you believe how gorgeous that guy is?” she said in a too-loud whisper.
“That he is,” I answered. A sigh escaped, unbidden, and I felt my cheeks warm.
Anna laughed. “You’re married, not dead.”
I’d given myself plenty of pep talks that it’s okay to enjoy the “scenery,” especially since traveling with Anna meant there was always a lot of sumptuous scenery to admire. It never ceased to amaze me how effortless flirting came to her. She never seemed to notice the effect she had on men.
Exhibit A, the three men at the bar who hadn’t taken their eyes off of her since they walked in.
Exhibit B, the round of drinks on our table sent over by those three men at the bar.
Zoe sauntered back to the table and slipped into the chair on my other side. “I love this place,” she cooed.
“Me too. Anna, you outdid yourself with this restaurant.” I lifted my glass of Mastiha to clink with my two best friends.
“This restaurant?” Anna pretend-pouted. “I’ve outdone myself with this entire trip.
Girls, we are in heaven, and you can thank me now because those gods are coming to us.
” She sat straighter, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and sent an Anna smile of welcome to the three men approaching our table.
Chairs were shuffled, introductions made, and conversations traversed from the “where are you from” to the “what do you do” to the “you have to try this.” In a short time, I found myself relaxed, enjoying the company and the food and the setting.
And the drinks. They kept coming. It was only when the waiter returned to our table with the bill that I realized how late it had become and how insanely tipsy I was.
Theo, as he told me to call him when I tried several times unsuccessfully to pronounce his full name, slipped the waiter his credit card before any of us managed to reach for our bags. “You can buy the next round,” he brushed off our protests.
“Next round?” Zoe slurred so it sounded like she was saying nest. Anna and I giggled.
“It’s late,” I said. “We need to get back to our room.” Plus I wanted to call Jack.
“Don’t be such a Mama Goose, Hols.” Anna hopped up, stumbling into the arms of Christos who, I’m sure, read the tea leaves perfectly to be in the right spot at the right time. With a maneuver that could only have been practiced, he smoothly slid an arm around her waist, tucking her into his side.
“My place is close,” Christos said. “It’s between here and your hotel. We can have a drink there and then we will see you lovely ladies to your hotel.”
Zoe all but swooned and Anna didn’t miss a beat, looping her arms around Christos’s narrow waist. Theo and I brought up the rear, following the foursome as they laughed and weaved their way to a charming house overlooking the ocean.
Christos led the way through the house to a backyard that was as dazzling as the nightscape in the background.
Lights twinkled in the distance from houses on the cliffs across the cove.
Olive and lemon trees created a barrier between the houses, their sweet aroma mingling with the salty brine from the ocean.
Anna shrieked in delight when Christos turned on the lights in the infinity pool. “Can we?” Without waiting for an answer, she was peeling off her dress to the delight of three pairs of admiring eyes.
“We don’t have swimsuits,” I objected, earning an eye-roll from Anna.
Zoe snickered and leaned into me as the men stripped to briefs that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. “Um, Hols, this is happening. Bra and panties aren’t more revealing than our bikinis.”
Anna dropped her dress onto a chaise and threw her arms around me.
“Aren’t you glad we talked you out of wearing those granny undies and boring bra?
” Zoe laughed, and my face flushed. Our first day here, Anna had given one look at my boring beige underwear and frog-marched me to a lingerie store where the three of us spent more money than I spend on clothing in a year.
My rationale, Jack will be thrilled with the purchase when I’m finally home.
Zoe kissed my cheek and in one effortless move, dove into the pool.
Nicki and Christos cannonballed into the shimmery water after her.
Theo raised his eyebrows and tilted his head toward the pool.
A dare and an invitation. As modestly as possible, I slipped out of my dress and tiptoed to the edge of the pool, feeling self-conscious and ridiculous and exposed and slightly exhilarated.
Thank god, indeed, Anna and Zoe convinced me to buy the matching sangria-hued bra and panties.
Thank god the bra was padded and I’d overruled the thong Anna had tried to convince me to buy.
“Come on, Hols, get in, the water is amazing,” Zoe shouted, sending a wave in my direction.
Next to me, Theo slid into the water and held out a hand, which I ignored.
I pushed off the edge with a far less elegant plunge than I imagined.
Zoe had been right, the water was amazing.
And the evening was amazing. And the company was amazing.
And before I could talk myself into sticking to my rigid rules, I accepted another drink from Christos. Then a second, and a third.
“Hey, Hols, say tupi?” Anna yelled at the same time Zoe threw her arms around me. We lifted our glasses and yelled “tupi” as Anna snapped a handful of pictures.
“One more,” Anna said, a second before I felt movement underwater by my legs.
I squealed, even though through the haze of alcohol I knew full well whatever was down there was human and not about to make a midnight snack of me.
Between the push of the water and Zoe’s weight from leaning on me, I lost my balance.
An arm snaked around my body, keeping me above the water.
I shuddered at the contact, the large, firm hand on my back, and looked up into Theo’s brown eyes.
“You almost spilled the Mastiha into the pool. That would have been a shame,” he said, and despite myself, I melted at his accent and his smile and holy shit, no.
I extracted myself from his muscular arm, thanking him for the save, and waddled my way through the waist-high water to the edge of the pool.
“Zoe, Anna, time to go. It’s late.”
“Mama Goose on the loose,” Anna singsonged.
“That makes no sense,” I groused at her, already pulling myself out of the pool and drying off with a towel that had magically appeared while we were splashing away in the water. Or maybe Christos brought them out. Or not. Everything had become fuzzy.
“Oh my god,” I groaned the following morning as the piercing light burned my eyeballs. On the bedside table, my phone was steadily vibrating with an incessant number of notifications. Even in silent mode it was far too loud.
“Who turned up the sun?” Zoe muttered, dragging a pillow over her face.
“I’m never drinking again,” Anna said from somewhere in the room.
I forced myself onto my elbows, despite the violent protests of my head and stomach, in search of Anna. She’d been sharing the bed with me this trip. We rotated who got a bed to themselves and this time it was Zoe.
“I need coffee. Holly, you’re the most upright of all of us. Call room service?” Zoe said, lifting one corner of the pillow.
“Lots of coffee,” Anna agreed. She was curled up in the chair by the window, the duvet from our bed wrapped around her. No wonder I had a dream about being cold.
“What the hell, Anna?” I grumbled.
“You were snoring.”
“So were you, Anna,” Zoe chimed in.
I groaned again and gingerly threw my legs over the side of the bed. I sat there, waiting for my stomach to settle, while my phone continued to flash with missed messages. Coffee first. I reached for the room phone and another message dropped along with my stomach.
Jack: I won’t be here when you return.
What the hell?
My head throbbed with confusion. I picked up my phone and unlocked the screen. Dread sloshed around my stomach with last night’s cocktails. Thirty-four missed messages, a combination of tagged posts and comments in Instagram, texts, and calls that went unanswered.
I opened Jack’s text thread first, scrolling through a dozen messages from “WTH” to “Where are you?” to “I deserve an answer” to “I can’t do this.” The last text was that he thought we needed some time apart.
That’s when I saw the text from the chairman of the board at my school.
We’ve set an emergency meeting for the day you return. (See my email.) I’ve been fielding calls all morning. Heads up, the board wants you to step down. I thought you should be prepared.
My insides went cold and with shaky hands I opened Instagram.
There it was, right at the top of my feed. Anna’s post from last night.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”
“Was that Holly?” Zoe threw the pillow off her face, wide-eyed with disbelief. The only other time I’d dropped the F-bomb was when I slammed my knee into the edge of a solid wood coffee table and could barely walk for two days.
“What did you do, Anna?” I jumped from the bed, hangover forgotten. I had far worse problems.
“Stop yelling.” Anna pulled the duvet over her head.
I snatched it off her and waved my phone in her face. “WHAT. IS. THIS?”
“Calm down, kids.” Zoe struggled to sit up and untangled herself from the sheets. “Whatever this is, it can’t be that bad. Or need to be that loud.” She groaned into her hands, scrubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Oh, it’s that bad.” I blinked at the photo on my screen, hoping that one of the blinks would make it go away.
But no—there in full color was me in the pool in my underwear, one hand on Theo’s chest, his hand on the clasp of my bra strap, and we’re looking at each other with the heat of a volcano about to erupt.
I blinked again and took in the rest of the photo.
Shimmering lights frame the cliff-side patio, dots of lights from distant houses along the horizon, Zoe and Nicki leaning against the edge of the pool talking, and Christos, dangling his legs in the pool with a mischievous glint in his eyes, watching us, me and Theo.
And if the horror of the image on social media wasn’t enough, my eyes dip to the caption.
There really are gods in Greece. @sterling_holly in the arms of Eros.
Looks like @jacksterling415 has some competition.
JK! Our girl will be home soon enough, pampered and pretty, just in time for @hillacademysf fall session.
Anna stretched and yawned loudly. “Omigod, last night was a blast. Think we’ll see them again today? Christos wanted to take us sailing.”
With a blinding fury, I shoved my clothes into my bag.
“What are you doing?” Zoe leaned over the bed and reached for my arm. I shoved past her and slammed my suitcase shut. Zoe looked between us. “What’s going on?”
“Ask her.” I pointed at Anna. “Ask the social media queen why she posted a picture of me in my underwear with a man who isn’t my husband looking like we’re very much about to do something we shouldn’t be doing. Not only that, she fucking tagged me, Jack, and my school.”
“Language, Holly,” Anna said around another hippo-sized yawn.
“Discretion, Anna,” I threw back at her. “Friendship, Anna. Common sense, Anna. How could you be so stupid?”
“Holly, Hols,” Zoe was out of bed. “Let’s talk about this. I’m sure it’s a simple misunderstanding.”
“There’s no talking about this. She knows I have to watch what I post to social media because of work. And she damn well knows that she’s just ruined my life.”
I glared at Anna, who only blinked back at me. It wasn’t even registering what she’d just done.
I didn’t care that I was wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a ratty T-shirt, or that I hadn’t brushed my teeth or combed my hair into submission.
I shoved my feet into the only pair of sandals I hadn’t thrown into the suitcase and manhandled my bag through the maze of luggage spewing clothes across the floor to the door.
Something must have finally clicked in that airhead brain of hers because Anna called out in a sudden panic. “Holly, wait.” She was out of the chair and rushing toward me.
“I never want to see you or hear from you again.”
“Hol—”
I slammed the door in her face. The hallway was quiet except for the screaming in my head. And in my heart.
In less than twenty-four hours, I lost my career, my husband, and a best friend. I lost it all because of her.