Page 35 of The Boss

At least she laughed. “Play clothes.”

“Sas efcharistó.” While I knew very little in Greek, I’d learned please and, more important, thank you.

Her eyes opened wide. “You are very welcome. I will leave you alone.”

I watched her walk out and when she turned slightly, studying me in a way I knew she had something to say, I forced my face to brighten.

“Mr. Nomikos is a good man. He will never hurt you.”

No, Mr. Nomikos is a certifiable asshole.

I wanted to tell her that he already had by destroying the tiny bubble I’d placed around myself regarding him.

But I chose not to.

“I hope so.”

She walked out, closing the door behind her and I realized immediately she hadn’t locked it. A mistake or a mandate? While I couldn’t be certain, I wasn’t going to forgo the slight freedom.

Plus, I was starving. After pouring some wine, I held the glass in the air. A gourmet meal for a girl who might be on death row.

The thought was revolting but also cathartic. I had no one in my corner, no safety mechanism. For all I knew, if I dared contactAthena again or made it to her house, Dimitrios would kill her. I couldn’t risk losing anyone else.

The fork in hand, I plunged the tines deep into the center, allowing steam to rise. There was no reason for me to be upset that delicious food was being served to me, but tears slipped past my lashes again. How had everything in my life vanished?

As I took a tentative bite, bitter sobs almost derailed my chance to enjoy such a fabulous dinner. I choked them back, taking tiny bites to keep my stomach from rejecting the fabulous food. The chef had done an amazing job of bringing me a slice of home.

Just thinking about the house we’d left, every room messy given our hurry to make it to the airport in time, I knew going back would be one of the toughest things I’d be forced to do. Then there were the funerals to plan and the people to call, bills to sort out and…

And…

I reached again for the carafe of wine, pouring the glass full. At least the taste, a sweet combination of blackberries and a slight hint of basil, was welcoming. Maybe I’d be able to keep everything down.

As I continued digging into the pie, I was shocked how hungry I really was. When I looked down again, I realized I’d eaten almost three quarters of it. And the pot pie was huge, big pieces of tender chicken the main ingredient. Guilt tore through me finally and I pushed the tray away. How could I eat when my parents were lying in a cold morgue somewhere?

I hadn’t been able to say goodbye.

What if their bodies weren’t released to the United States?

No, I couldn’t do this to myself. Not now.

My stomach lurched and I was fearful I’d vomit. I rushed into the bathroom, gripping the edge of the counter as I tried to keep that from happening. There was a girl staring back at me in the mirror I didn’t recognize. She seemed helpless where the one I remembered had been brought up strong and resilient. Her eyes were dead, almost as if they’d never had any life in them at all.

Even her hair was stringy, several locks caked to her neck.

“What happened to you?”

Maybe the better question was what had happened to my sanity. There was no good answer.

I suddenly felt dirty, more than I had in a long time.

With nothing but time on my hands, I decided to take a long, hot shower. Maybe if I scrubbed my skin hard enough, I’d lose all sense of feeling. That would keep grief away. Right?

As an added benefit, I could wash off Dimitrios’ odor as well. His aftershave continued to linger, filling my system with toxicity. I hated the man and all he stood for. The last thing I wanted to do was to smell like him.

Eleni had brought a dress and a pair of pants that were drawstring along with another shirt. Why she’d think I’d put on something sexy was beyond me. I hadn’t gone to sleep only to wake up in every girl’s fantasy.

I’d awakened to a nightmare.

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