Page 97 of The Boss

Waiting any longer to make contact with Shane could be disastrous.

Another knock on my door forced a wave of irritation. I needed time to think through what Davit had said prior to making any other judgments. Unfortunately, my instincts appeared off regarding the man and his intentions.

This time, I walked to the door myself. I was tired of visitors. I needed and wanted to spend time with Willow. She was still healing, but had an important role to play in every step we took from here on out.

Yet as I opened the door, my fury fell away.

“Gregory.”

He took a deep breath. He’d never been good at hiding his emotions. He did no better after all these years. He’d suffered from the loss of his family members, still furious with me.

“Dimitrios.” His voice held no inflection whatsoever.

“Come in. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I wasn’t certain I was either.”

I closed the door behind him. We both had some difficult things to say to each other.

“Would you like a drink?” I asked.

“Maybe later. I came to attend Leandro’s funeral and to see my niece. I want to ensure she’s being taken care of.” As expected, the tension was high.

“She’s in the house, Greg. I told you I’d protect her.”

“But something happened. Didn’t it?” he commented. For all the closeness we’d shared, the beer and tequila consumed, and the conversations over whatever was on our minds we’d had, I could easily tell the trust had been irrevocably broken.

Sighing, I looked away initially, but there was no chance I could avoid telling him. “She’s fine, Greg. We had an incident.”

“What incident?”

I grabbed my drink from the desk, taking a sip as I looked at him. “Our plane was shot at and went down. She had a mild concussion, bumps and bruises and is resting, but she’s fine.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s my niece. What the hell was she doing in a plane?”

“She was with me.” At this point I wanted him to let it go.

He studied me for a few seconds. “But she’s really okay?”

“She’s just fine. She’s strong. You can go see her when we’re finished with our conversation.”

Greg had never been the kind of guy at a loss for words. But he stood stoically, staring at me as if he no longer recognized who I was.

“Maybe I will have that drink,” he finally said.

“Gin?”

“Scotch if you have it.”

“Of course.” He drank scotch only when he was in a full ride of despair as he called it. I made him the drink, realizing how distraught he was when I handed it to him. His face was pinched and he looked more gaunt than I’d seen him.

“Are you going back to the position with the state department?”

“Yeah, can you believe it? I’ll be headed for Greece for at least a one-year assignment in two weeks. I need to find a place to live.”

“I can help you with that,” I told him.

“Sure. Whatever.”

---