Big Greek Baby Secret Read online

  Almost immediately, the crowds began to thin out. Families frolicking through the surf were replaced with middle-aged women tanning on beach towels and reading water-damaged paperbacks. Clearly, I’d stepped out of the tourist-dense zone and was getting a taste of the more “real” Greece. The ocean appeared bluer here, as well. I knew it was probably just a trick of my mind, but I was willing to give in to the illusion.

  I considered stopping, but just up ahead, the beach curved off to the left and disappeared behind a large rock outcropping. I’d come this far, though, and I wanted to know what sat beyond the rocks. So, I trudged on.

  I stopped to slip out of my sandals and let them dangle from my fingertips as my feet sunk further and further into the powdery white sand. With every step, it felt harder to lift my feet, and I knew even if I turned around now, I’d be exhausted by the time I got back to the resort. But still, I had to make it around the rocks. The adventurous side of me that had all but withered away during the twenty-six years I’d stayed within the confines of Wisconsin was coming to life, and she was ready to explore.

  Sweat coated my forehead by the time I reached the rocks, so when I finally turned the corner and saw the scene set before me, I thought it might be a mirage. I leaned against the craggy surface and paused to catch my breath, blinking hard to see if the scene would disappear. It didn’t.

  The beach wrapped around the rock face and then began to transition into thick grass as it moved up a hill. And there, on top of the hill and directly in front of me, sat a picture-perfect villa. It looked like something out of an oil painting. The walls were the same whitewash color as the resort with the same bright blue roof, but the house had more architectural intrigue than any of the buildings at the main resort. The doorway was framed with an arch and columns on either side, each of the windows had weather-worn blue shutters around them, and the roof was a series of domes with a balcony built into the center.

  I moved away from the rocks, spurred onward by my own curiosity, and looked around for any sign of another person. I didn’t see anyone from the resort—guest or otherwise—but based on the similar design-style, the house looked to be part of the resort property. As I moved closer, I noticed a flat stone terrace off to the side. It stretched all the way to a cliff that looked down on the water and had a bar with the same white fabric overhang as the bar at the resort pool.

  Clearly, I’d found the lesser-known resort bar. I silently congratulated myself for indulging my curiosity and began climbing the grassy hill up to the villa.

  I had only just made it to the top when the burn in my legs convinced me that the grass was a perfectly good place to sit and enjoy the unencumbered view. I dropped my sandals into the grass, stretched out my legs, and lifted my arms over my head, feeling the sun beat down on me. I didn’t have my phone or a watch, so there was no way to know exactly what time it was, but based on the sun’s low position in the sky, I guessed it was well into the evening. The sun would be setting within the hour.

  With the orange sherbet sky meeting the infinite blue of the ocean at the horizon, I couldn’t help but daydream about staying on this stretch of ocean forever. My mom had always talked about moving her bed and breakfast closer to the water. In Madison, there was no shortage of lakes to visit, but she’d dreamed about being near an ocean. Of course, the cost of moving was never something she could have afforded, but before she’d passed away, it was all she could talk about.

  And now, I imagined my own bed and breakfast nestled into the rolling hills along the beach, looking out over the clear turquoise blue of the water. The resort I was staying in was nice, but it felt commercialized. I wanted a small space where people could forget their worries. A place that would feel like a small slice of heaven, removed from modern life. This stretch of beach would be perfect.

  A birdlike screech broke me from my thoughts and I tumbled forward into the sand; the instinctual urge to protect my head from whatever was clearly coming for me was overpowering. The screech stopped for a second and then started again, and this time, I was able to discern that the noise came from a human, not a bird. I sat up, dusting sand off of my chest and chin, and turned to see a stout, sturdy woman in gray pants and a matching top moving towards me, her arms flailing wildly.

  I took a few steps backwards down the hill, sliding on the loose ground and shaking my head.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know Greek,” I said. “I speak English.”

  The woman launched into another round of shouts and I resisted the urge to cover my ears. Even though I didn’t know Greek, her body language translated perfectly: “You are not welcome here.”

  “Do you speak English?” I asked, hoping I could explain who I was to the woman. “I’m staying at the resort down the beach. I’m a guest. At the hotel,” I repeated, making nonsensical hand gestures.

  “No trespass!” the woman screamed. “Go! Leave!”

  Well, she knew a little English.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated, holding my hands up to signal my surrender. “I thought this was part of the resort.”

  I stepped back up the hill to grab my sandals, and the woman swiped out at me. She hadn’t even come close to hitting me, but it seemed a bit dramatic for the circumstances. She was half my size, and I was probably half her age, but I had every confidence that she could have taken me in a fight.

  “I need my shoes,” I said, pointing to my bare feet and then back to where my sandals were laying in the grass.

  “Leave!” she shrieked again.

  I was moments away from deciding to leave my sandals and buy a new pair rather than incur the wrath of this angry Greek woman when a much calmer, much deeper voice caught my attention. I couldn’t see the speaker, but he was also speaking Greek and apparently speaking to the woman, because she turned at the sound of his voice and the anger left her face immediately.

  She bowed her head, nodded a few times, and then stepped away from me. As soon as she was safely out of arm’s reach, I stepped up to grab my sandals and then froze.

  Standing in front of me further back on the hill was the most gorgeous man I’d ever set eyes on. I was gawking at him with my mouth hanging open when a breeze rolled off the sea, tousling his dark brown hair and whipping his thin linen shirt tight against his muscled body.

  I was lucky I didn’t pass out and roll to the bottom of the hill. Had I stepped onto the set of a cologne commercial?

  The man looked down at me, his caramel-brown eyes rich enough to eat. His skin was a deep tan and I watched the way his strong jaw flexed as he spoke.

  Oh, God, he was speaking.

  I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “Sorry, what was that?”

  “You’re from the resort?” he asked.

  I’d always heard women rave about men with accents, but I’d never understood the appeal until that moment. He made every word sound like music.

  I nodded, feeling incapable of much else. “Yes. The resort.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me as though he were concerned I might not be operating at full capacity in the mental department. “This is private property.”

  I took a deep, calming breath and tried my best to act like a normal human being. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this was a private villa.”

  “My private villa,” he said with emphasis.

  “Right. Yes,” I said. The gorgeous man owned his own villa along an unbelievable stretch of beach. Some people truly had it all.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, much more harshly than seemed to be necessary.

  “I was looking for the best view, and I found it here. I didn’t mean to trespass.”

  “You’re here on vacation?” he asked.

  I didn’t see how this was any of the man’s business, but I also couldn’t stop myself from answering. “For work,” I said. “I’m here for a conference on international telemarketing.”

  “So you’re here to sell things?” He looked at me like I was a cockroach someone
had tried to paint red and pass off as a ladybug.

  “No,” I said, feeling my jet lag catching up with me. “I already told you why I’m here. I wanted to enjoy the view. I’m sorry I walked onto your property. I’m leaving, now.”

  I grabbed my sandals and turned to try to gracefully storm away down the sandy hill, putting all thoughts of the handsome stranger and the rude woman out of my mind. I wouldn’t let them ruin my vacation.

  “What is your name?” the man called down after me.

  I clenched my jaw and ground my teeth together, directly disobeying the orders my dentist had given me after my last appointment.

  Was this guy serious? What did he want with my name? Probably to try to turn me in to the police for trespassing. I had agreed to leave his property, so what more did he want? I turned, ready to relay this exact speech back to the man and then leave, refusing to give my name, but when I looked up at him, he was smiling.

  It wasn’t a full grin or anything, but his previously frowny face had tilted up imperceptibly into a smile. “My name is Dimitri,” he said. “And you are?”

  Chapter 3

  Dimitri

  “You can go, Petra,” I said in Greek so that the beautiful American woman wouldn’t understand.

  Petra had been my housekeeper for most of my adult life. In fact, many days of the year, she was the only person I came into contact with. So, I knew which expression she was wearing before I even looked at her. Her flat lips were stretched back at the corners, her heavy-lidded eyes narrowed and searching.

  “I’ll get rid of her,” she said, shoulders stiffening as though she were my bodyguard.

  “I’m fine. Go back inside.”

  I’d given a command, but I’d learned from years of experience that Petra didn’t take commands. She looked from me to the woman and back again, shook her head a few times, and then marched back up to the house, peeking over her shoulder before she disappeared inside. I wouldn’t be surprised if she walked immediately to the second story to watch us from the windows. Petra rarely ever saw me speak to the locals, let alone strangers. And there hadn’t been a woman in my life since Victoria.

  “What is your name?” I asked for the third time.

  “Maxine,” the woman said, smiling and tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. Her pale skin had a pink tinge that I knew would be a burn in the morning. Clearly, she didn’t spend much time in the sun.

  “Where are you from?”

  Her smile faltered, and I realized I was interrogating her. It had been a while since I’d spoken casually to a stranger. Especially a woman. Still, she answered.

  “Madison.” And then, when she saw the confused look on my face, continued, “Madison, Wisconsin. In the States. Have you ever been?”

  “No, never,” I said.

  She laughed, her white teeth shining in the afternoon light. “Why would you? It’s beautiful enough here. There’s nothing in Wisconsin.”

  Except beautiful women, apparently.

  “You’re from here, right?” she asked, her arms going wide to gesture to the villa and the beach.

  “Not here, specifically. But I was born in Greece,” I said.

  She groaned. “I’d die to live here. It’s gorgeous.”

  “So, live here,” I said. And then, suddenly, I realized it sounded as though I was propositioning her to live with me. I stumbled out a quick explanation. “Not here, obviously. But here, in Greece. Why not?”

  She giggled, and it made my heart rate rise. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d made a woman laugh like that.

  “Things aren’t ever as easy as they seem,” she said with a shrug.

  I understood the sentiment all too well. In the last few years, my life had grown increasingly complicated.

  “But you’re living the dream out here,” she went on. “Your house is gorgeous.”

  “It’s actually part of the resort,” I replied.

  Her lips pressed out into a pout. “You and your…” she hesitated, gesturing back to the house. “Petra.”

  “Housekeeper,” I said, smiling at how upset Petra would be to learn she’d been described as my Petra.

  “You and your housekeeper made me feel like I was trespassing,” she said. “I thought you might call the police on me.”

  “Do I look like the type of guy who calls the police when defenseless women stumble onto his property?” I asked.

  Something sparked behind her eyes, though I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Her gaze flicked to each of my arms and then to the ground.

  “I’ve only been in the country for a few hours,” she said. “I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

  “I’m sorry to give you such a rude welcome.”

  She looked back up at me, blinking slowly. “It’s okay.”

  A strong breeze rolled in off the water and she wavered in the wind, stumbling forward to find her balance on the side of the sandy hill.

  I gestured back to the grass she’d been sitting on before Petra had accosted her. “Feel free to sit again. You may have technically been trespassing, but I promise not to call the police.”

  “That’s very kind of you.” She dropped her shoes in the sand and climbed up a few steps to sit on the flat patch of grass.

  “Do you mind if I join you?”

  She hesitated for only the briefest of moments before nodding.

  Before I’d seen Petra accosting Maxine, I’d just hung up from a business call, and was about to ask Petra to bring my dinner to my office. It would be nice to have a break from working for a few minutes.

  As the CEO of a shipping company, the airline strike was proving to be both a boon and a logistical nightmare. There had been rumors it would happen for weeks, but everyone had thought the airlines would reach an agreement with the air traffic control workers, myself included. With the strike actually happening, I had twice as much work to do as normal, and a slow and steady tension headache had been building up at the base of my neck all day. Now, though, sitting in the grass next to Maxine, feeling the sea mist against my face, I could almost forget the stress of my day.

  “I was supposed to be here for a conference,” she said, leaning back to rest on her hands. “Actually, I’d be at a meet and greet with the other conference-goers right now, but there was an airline strike, so it’s been postponed indefinitely.”

  “You don’t seem very disappointed,” I said. “Given that you came all this way for nothing.”

  “You call this nothing?” she asked, looking out to the sea. Her eyes could have been a mirror. They were the exact same shade of blue as the water.

  “I’m on an all-expenses paid vacation, courtesy of ClarkCall BPO. I’m thrilled! I’m free as a bird. What do you do, Dimitri?”

  I wasn’t in the habit of telling strangers about my job. And, even if I was, I didn’t want Maxine to know that the airline strike she had just been praising was making my work life a circle of hell. So, I skirted around the truth.

  “I work for a shipping company.”

  “Here on the island?”

  “From right here on the beach,” I said, hitching my thumb over my shoulder to point back towards the villa. “I work from home.”

  She let out a low whistle. “That must be nice. I’d love to work from home. Well, not my home. My home is a one-bedroom apartment with a view overlooking a parking lot. I’d love working from your home.” A bark of nervous laughter shot out of her, and her cheeks flushed. “Well, from a home like yours. If it was mine.” She sighed. “You know what I mean.”

  I laughed. “Yes, I do.”

  “So,” she said, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. “How does working from home work? Do you video call in to your boss every day? Or do they trust you to get your work done?”

  “I spend a lot of time on the phone,” I said, once again trying to find the balance between the truth and a lie. I didn’t have a boss, so to speak, because I was the boss. But I did spend a good deal of every wo
rk day on the phone. You’d assume a multi-billion-dollar shipping company would run like a well-oiled machine, but it required a good deal of maintenance. Every decision went through me, which meant when anything went wrong, I was the one who everyone expected to fix it.

  “Everyone needs my approval for something. I hold a lot of hands.”

  “It sounds like you’re a bit more than a normal employee. Are you in management?”

  Maxine was astute. Most people didn’t care enough to dig deeper into the story I sold them. I could tell she would be a little tougher to fool. I’d have to be careful around her.

  “I guess you could call it that,” I said, a little more stiffly than I intended to.

  Being the person on the receiving end of the questions didn’t come naturally to me. I was normally the one demanding answers from an employee or a client who was trying to back out of a deal.

  Maxine pursed her lips and nodded slowly, as if she was trying to think. Then, all at once, she lifted herself to her feet and dusted off her white swimsuit cover-up.

  “I feel bad for invading your space and wasting your time. I should really be getting back to the resort.”

  “You are in the resort,” I pointed out.

  “Back to the main resort,” she said over her shoulder, already headed down the hill. “It was lovely to meet you, Dimitri. I promise not to trespass on your property again.”

  “Why do you need to get back so soon?” I asked, unable to mask my disappointment at her sudden departure. “I thought you were—how did you say it? Free as a bird?”

  She turned and smiled at me, nearly making me breathless with her beauty. “This bird needs a drink at the hotel bar.”

  I watched her step carefully down towards the main beach, and the thought that I’d never see her again filled me with panic.

  “I have a bar!”

  “What was that?” she asked.

  The words had rushed out of me with such intensity that they’d jumbled into an indecipherable “I’vabur!”