Page 5 of Greek's Temporary Cinderella

He’d heard about Damian Makris’s death in a road accident some eighteen months ago now—the news had been all over the press and had circulated amongst his circle of acquaintances. Though it had been shocking—how could it not be, for a young man still in his twenties to die?—Leandros had not wanted to think about it. Not wanted to think that now Eliana was no longer Damian’s wife but his widow.

Jonas Makris, Damian’s father, had made it big in construction, and was based in the north of the country, with lucrative building projects all over the Balkans. That Eliana had taken herself off to Thessaloniki with the man she’d preferred to him had been a sour source of what might have passed for comfort to Leandros. Their paths had never crossed.

Till that damn party for Andreas Manolis and his fiancée...

But at least she hasn’t shown up in Athens again—I can be glad of that.

The taunt he’d thrown at her—that she was now set on lining up a new husband, rich, of course, the only kind she went for—came back now, twisting his mouth. Well, she was welcome to go husband-hunting in Thessaloniki—or anywhere else that was not Athens.

Though maybe his taunt had been misplaced. Maybe she was perfectly happy being a wealthy widow, burning through whatever her hapless husband had left her.

He gave himself a mental shake. Hell, he was thinking about her again...

His car was arriving at the entrance to the prestigious yacht club where he was to meet his hosts for lunch. With an effort, he switched his mind into business gear, running through the issues that would need discussion and clarification if they were to reach agreement.

An hour later he had made his mind up. Though lunch had been lavish, and his hosts clearly very keen, he had not taken to them, and considered the deal they wanted carried too much risk for him. He veiled that decision from them—there was no point being blunt when it was not necessary. For now he let them think he would consider it, and they were happy enough with that as they moved on to coffee and liqueurs.

He was only half listening to what his hosts were saying—they were making general conversation about various aspects of the business and political life in Greece in which they all shared an interest—until one of them mentioned a name that suddenly drew his attention sharply.

‘A lucky day, though, for Vassily Makris. He’ll scoop the lot when old Jonas calls it quits.’

Leandros paused in the act of lifting his coffee cup.

‘Vassily Makris?’

If there was an edge in his voice, he veiled it. His engagement to Eliana had been brief, and unannounced—few had known about it, and few knew of his own connection to the widow of Damian Makris.

Her friend Chloe did, though. At that party her reaction had shown that plain enough.

His host nodded. ‘Yes—Jonas’s nephew. Damian was Jonas’s only son—his only child. There’s no grandchild either, apparently. Only a widow—Aristides Georgiades’s daughter. Jonas, understandably, was never happy that the marriage was childless. And the widow is the loser for that.’

‘Yes,’ Leandros’s other host corroborated. ‘Jonas has all but thrown her out on the street, from what I’ve heard. Of course if the Georgiades money had lasted she’d have been OK, but we all know what happened to that...’

Leandros frowned, before hearing himself ask a question he didn’t want to ask, but asked all the same.

‘Didn’t Aristides Georgiades’s property not pass to the daughter when he died? Some historic old place way out in Attica?’

‘No,’ came the answer. ‘Jonas Makris’s kept it—it went to him with the marriage. Had his daughter-in-law given him the grandson and heir—any heir at all!—he might have put it in the child’s name, but as it is it will all go to the nephew, Vassily.’

Out of nowhere, in his head, Leandros heard Eliana’s voice—a voice from long ago—talking affectionately about her childhood home.

‘My father loves it—he grew up there, and I did too. It’s one of those few remaining neoclassical mansions, built after Greek independence in the nineteenth century by my great-great-grandfather, with beautiful grounds and gardens, and a glorious view!’

Leandros’s thoughts came back to the present. So the old Georgiades family mansion was no longer that.

A random thought pricked.

That will have hurt her.

He shook it from him. Why should he care whether Eliana had lost her family mansion? Or that it seemed she hadn’t done well financially out of being widowed.

The conversation moved on, and Leandros was relieved.

I don’t want to think about her or know anything about her.

He was done with her. Had been done six years ago. And yet...

If she hasn’t profited from widowhood, and there’s no Georgiades money for her, then she’ll definitely be on the lookout for a new meal ticket.

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