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“And the Filos? I doubt Rastus will be happy about that.”
“I can also handle Rastus.”
“You mean, your husband can.”
I shrug and smile. “Same thing.”
Yiannis wipes his face with both hands. The equipment beeps. I hate hospitals—they always smell like puke and antiseptic, and no matter who you are, the employees always treat you like apatient. You lose your humanity, your personhood, as soon as you walk in through that door. There’s kindness, but no warmth. I suppose that distance is necessary so these people can get through the day, but still. Hospitals. Awful.
“I’m sorry, Kacia. As much as I value my alliance with you and Luca, this is a family matter. My son did try to kill me, after all. That’s typically not something families like ours can ignore.”
“Ah, well. I thought I might try.”
“If it makes you feel better, I doubt it’ll matter. Word is, Peter and the French are having funding issues, and the crime lords are beginning to turn their backs on Balaska. Unless things change, I have a feeling they’ll be fleeing the country sooner rather than later, which is good news for you. That means more product will be available for export to your family.”
“Great news for me.” I pat Yiannis’s arm gently and stand. “I hope you feel better soon, okay? And I hope you patch things up with your son.”
Yiannis’s smile is tense and fake all the way through. “Lovely to see you, Kacia.”
I leave his room and walk slowly back out into the comfortable afternoon. I take a deep breath and savor the smell of ocean air and espresso. It’s like all of Greece is dipped in salt and coffee, and it’s like the best smell in the whole world.
I wander down the street and make a phone call.
“Kacia? Kacia!”
“Hi, Adrienne.” I smile to myself. It’s good to hear her voice. “Are you back in LA?”
“I’m back and bored out of my mind. God, it’s so good to hear from you. How is everything? I need details!”
I laugh and sink down onto an empty bench. Across the street, my driver and bodyguards stand around a black car, staring at me like they want to bundle me up and throw me into the trunk. I put a hand on my belly, just to remind them that they aren’t only dealing with their boss’s wife—they’re also dealing with his unborn baby.
“I can’t talk long. Things are good though, business is fine. But, uh, I just visited with Yiannis. Peter’s Dad.”
There’s a long pause. When Adrienne speaks, she sounds breathless. “How is he?”
“Alive. I suspect he’ll be discharged in the next week or so, but he’s very weak. He’s also extremely unhappy with his son.”
“Peter’s okay though?”
“According to Yiannis, Peter’s okay.” I give her a rundown of what I was told. “I’m sorry, love. That’s all I know.”
“That’s fine. That’s more than I expected. Did Luca—” She hesitates and stops herself. “Never mind, forget it. I’m just happy you called. How are you feeling? I bet it’s not easy running around Greece, negotiating deals, all while carrying a gangster’s baby.”
“I’m tired, my feet are swollen, and I swear I’m finding new ways to ache every single day. But honestly, I’m pretty good.”
“I miss you. Come back to the States soon.”
“I will, I promise. Anyway, I’ve got to go. The bodyguards are about to run over here and drag me into the car.”
“Tough life. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I hang up and stare at the phone.
Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what the right thing to do here is, but Adrienne’s struggling. I could see it from the second she got back—things happened between her and Peter, and now those two are intertwined in ways neither of them expected. It’s a lot like me and Luca back when we first got together.
I hate seeing my friend suffer. Maybe hearing all that will kick her butt into gear.
