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“I have to go.”
“Whoa, calm down. Your family thinks we drove out to Rafina to watch the sunrise and have breakfast. They were thrilled. Let’s not ruin their fun so soon. We’ll get some breakfast in, you’ll start to feel better, and then you can go home, say you’re exhausted and go to bed. Everyone wins.”
“You always have an angle?”
“No angle here, Eirene. I just saw a train wreck waiting to happen and pulled the switch. I’ll drive you home as soon as you stop looking like you angered the gods. Why don’t you go take a shower?”
She didn’t feel like one, but figured it was a good idea and went off to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her, and felt stupid doing it. He hadn’t taken advantage of her when she was out cold, so why did she think he’d molest her in the shower?
The shower stall had a tiled seat, for which she was incredibly grateful. She sank down onto it and let the water from the multiple jets wash away the sticky haze of alcohol that seemed to be clinging to her skin. Had they really done ouzo shots in the bar? It also washed away some of the cobwebs, and she began to think more clearly, cringing to remember all she’d done. She really shouldn’t drink.
As the discomfort ebbed, Eirene began to feel grateful to Simon. Gallantry was not a quality that she’d associated with him, but he’d proved to be more gallant than Paul who had walked out on her in disgust over a couple of glasses of wine. She didn’t blame him for making a fool of herself, but he certainly hadn’t helped.
She finished her shower and came out, wearing one of the fluffy white robes the hotel provided, her dark hair wrapped in a towel.
“You look miles better,” Simon told her. “Breakfast just arrived. Come and sit down.”
“Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t know me.”
As he pulled her chair out he said, “You remind me of my sister, Athena. I’d hope that someone would be good to her if she made a misstep.”
Misstep. That was a nice way of saying that Eirene had fucked up hugely.
“Will your boyfriend give you grief about this?”
She sighed. “I doubt I still have a boyfriend after last night.”
“He didn’t see you as far as I know. Nobody did.”
She felt weak with relief, but then a new and surprising thought occurred to her, that she’d lost the chance to have Paul break with her.
“You don’t look happy. Anything I can do?” he asked as she sipped the hot, bracing coffee and prayed for the caffeine to do its work quickly.
“No.”
“Were you hoping he’d see you?”
“Let’s not talk about this.”
They ate in silence until Simon said, “Eirene, if you don’t want him anymore, then cut him loose.”
“The way you do with your women? No thank you, I’m no that callous.” That hadn’t come out the way she’d meant it to. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine. Yes, I can be callous. Marmalade?”
“I really am sorry,” she repeated.
“Let’s not talk about this,” he said, throwing her words back at her.
It was all confusion. Everything Eirene had thought was true about her life had been thrown into disarray in one night. Simon Katsaros had been a true gentleman to her, protecting her from the consequences of her silly, reactive behavior instead of taking advantage of it. But Paul, the man she’d thought seriously about spending the rest of her life with, had treated her as if she was a wayward child. Not only had he walked out of the wedding — and Eirene realized now that he had just been looking for an excuse to leave, a way to justify himself — but late the next day, he’d phoned to tell her how upset he’d been that she’d behaved so provocatively with a vacuous rich boy like Simon, and had chosen to indulge in behavior that had caused problems between them in the past, i.e., drinking too much. And she’d picked a fight with him, he added. When he was being nice enough to escort her to a wedding he hadn’t wanted to attend.
The sheer unfairness of his accusations left Eirene speechless. “You’re unbelievable, Paul. First, dancing with someone other than you is not behaving provocatively, all right? I was not spinning around on a pole in front of him, wearing pasties and a g-string.”
“Oh my God, Eirene—”
“And my drinking is not your damn business.” That one took some effort, she had to admit. She knew that she often behaved badly when she drank. It was fair that Paul didn’t like it and said so, but she was not willing to give an inch that afternoon. “And finally, you were the one who picked the fight and then walked out of the wedding, leaving me without an escort.”
“I imagine you found a protector pretty quickly.” The way he said “protector” made his meaning crystal clear.
