AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Glad you like it, darling.” She waves down the waitress and orders me something in Greek. “Coffee and some pastry for you.” Nearby, several older men sit at tables playing cards, backgammon, and talking loudly at each other in Greek. Katarin doesn’t seem to notice them. “Tell me, how is Peter doing?”
“He seems fine although it’s hard to tell with him. He doesn’t seem to like me very much.”
“Peter doesn’t seem to like anyone very much. My husband says he’s one of the sullenest men he’s ever met, and my husband is as sullen as they come.” Katarin runs a hand through her hair and smiles at me. “Take off those glasses, darling, are you trying to hide from me?”
I hesitate and touch the rim. “Not from you. Everyone else.”
She waves a hand at me. “Go on, nobody cares, you look lovely.” I take off the glasses, feeling exposed, but it’s nice to have them off. “There you are. Such a pretty girl. Now, when your coffee comes, you will drink it all and eat the pastry, or I will complain. And believe me, I am a very good complainer.”
Katarin tells me about Athens and when the waitress returns, I do as she requested and drink my coffee and eat my pastry. By the time I’m finished with the food, I’m already feeling more comfortable. The caffeine hits my bloodstream and the ocean breeze fills my lungs, and I find myself laughing for the first time in what feels like forever.
“I want to admit something to you, darling. I feel so very bad about it, but I think you’ll forgive me.”
“You didn’t poison my coffee, did you?”
“Oh, no, I only poison people I don’t like, and I like you.” She smiles at me sadly. “I need to admit that I knew who you were that night at Peter’s house on Crete.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You heard of me?”
“In a way. More like, I heard of your father and your mother.”
I sit very still and stare at her over the rim of my cup. I hold it like a shield and feel my pulse racing in my chest as I try to quickly work out what this might mean. My identity isn’t exactly a secret—I still have my father’s surname after all—and there are a lot of people in this world that know what that family name means. Only I thought I’d managed to hide myself with Peter and hoped the Greek crime lords hadn’t ever heard of Roger Holloway and his notorious wife, Eve Courbet-Holloway.
Apparently, I was wrong.
“What do you know about them?” I ask slowly, trying to stay calm. Peter’s warning rings in my ears and I suddenly wish I’d listened. Katarin might be funny and fun to be around, but she’s the wife of a dangerous crime lord, and getting involved with her could be exceedingly bad for my health.
“Don’t looks so nervous, darling. I know your parents are both gone, like you told me. I know your father was a defense attorney to some rather notorious people. I know your mother comes from a long line of notorious people herself. And I’m aware of the fortune they left you.”
I take a sharp breath and slowly let it out.
The fortune they left me.
I close my eyes and steady myself before opening them again.
“I hate to disappoint you, but that money isn’t mine, if that’s what you’re curious about.”
She laughs and leans back to light another cigarette. She blows the smoke out the corner of her mouth and shakes her head slowly, still smiling. “Darling, I have more money than I could ever spend. I couldn’t care less about what you have. But I do think I should warn you that my husband and his friends might not feel the same.”
“Are you saying I need to be worried?”
“I’m saying, if I know who you are, and I’m aware of the money, then I can promise there are others in Greece that know as well. And many of them care much more about money than I do.”
I lean back to let that sink in.
It’s been years since I’ve had to deal with something like this. When my parents first died, there were dozens of people that appeared out of nowhere like wasps crawling from beneath the floorboards, buzzing around and begging for handouts—cousins, uncles, some fake and some real, business associates, friends and coworkers and more, all of them looking for a piece of the money my parents left me after they passed. But back then, I couldn’t access the trust, not for another couple years, and over those years I learned that most people only cared about what I can do for them. When they learned I didn’t actually have anything to give, they inevitably disappeared.
That’s what drew me to Kacia in college. She didn’t know anything about my former life or about my parents or my money, and she didn’t seem to care about any of it. All she wanted was to be normal, and that suited me just fine.
Now it’s like the past I’ve been running from for so long is finally catching up with me.
“Peter doesn’t know,” I say finally and put my coffee cup down, straightening it out and staring at the porcelain. “At least, I don’t think he does. He hasn’t mentioned it yet.”
“Peter knows,” she says, taking a drag. “Don’t give me that surprised look, of course he knows. I suspect he simply doesn’t care.”
“Right,” I say, sinking deeper into my chair.
“Don’t look so defeated,” she says sharply and that makes me sit up again. “Good, better. Back straight, chin up. Why do you think Peter is trying to keep you hidden? He showed you off at the party because you’re young and beautiful and it’s nice to have a pretty young thing around, but he made it clear to my husband that you’re off-limits.”
