Page 61 of Love on the Rocks
I was so into the story that I didn’t notice a gust of wind had blown one of the folded notes away.
“Excuse me, is this yours?” a woman’s voice said behind me. I turned and squinted into the sun to see her better. A willowy, auburn-haired woman around my age. I’d seen her before. Then it came back to me—one of Nikos’s women. Or . . . was she? After what Yannis had just told me, I was beginning to think I had him all wrong.
She held the yellow notepaper in her hand, and I reached out to take it. “Yes, thank you.” I slid it back into the book. “You’re American.”
“And so are you!” She laughed and sat next to me. “And it looks like we’re reading the same book.” She held up a tattered copy of Nikos’s book. “I’m Diana, by the way.”
“Callie, nice to meet you.” I couldn’t help looking her over—not that I was jealous, just curious. “So are you heading to Lyra?”
“Yes, I’ve been doing some research on the island. I’m an archaeologist.” That explained the funky cargo pants with the extra-large pockets and the rucksack. And then it dawned on me . . .
“Oh, you’rethearchaeologist . . . with theartifact?” What were the odds that we’d run into each other today? The same day that I’d discovered that Nikos’s cup had been deemed a fake.
“Well, as it turns out, the fake artifact.” She worried her lip between her white teeth, and I recognized the disappointment on her face before she tried to cover up with a smile. I was feeling that way myself after my conversation with Gaz.
“I heard. Sorry,” I said, and I meant it. “Are you heading to Lyra to break the news to Nikos?”
“You know Nikos? Well, of course you must.” She nodded at the book. “I already talked to him this morning. He took it surprisingly well, better than me.” She rubbed anxiously at her bare arm. “I’m bringing the cup back to him.”
We were both silent for moment, then finally, I admitted, “I work with The Greystone Group.”
“Oh! Then you must be happy to get on with construction of your fancy resort.”
I supposed I should have been, but I was still sad about the cup. For Nikos’s grandfather anyway. After reading about it in the book and the story that was depicted on it, I wanted it to be true.
Diana and I chatted for the rest of the trip back to Lyra, and any initial jealousy I might have felt faded away. She told me all about her doctoral research on Etruscan women and how she’dstumbled acrossThe History of Lyra. An earlier discovery had led her to develop the hypothesis that a group of women had somehow emigrated to the Aegean, possibly as traders or even pirates.
“It’s a wild theory. Female pirates.” She rubbed her temples. “Now, I’m afraid my research director thinks I’m a fraud.”
Like me, she was in a male-dominated profession, so I sympathized. As we docked in the harbor at Lyra, I asked, “Where will your research take you now?”
“I’ll be working on a site near Venice in the fall.”
“Oh, one of my best friends is at Aviano!” Levi had been stationed at the air base for almost two years, and I still had yet to visit him.
Her face clouded over. “Oh, yeah. I’m an Air Force brat. My dad was stationed there years ago.”
“Well, my friend Levi says it’s a fabulous region. I’ll have to check it out sometime.” I pulled my phone out and jotted his info down. “Here’s his number. I’m sure he’ll be cool with you calling him. It’s always nice to know people in a strange land. It can get lonely sometimes. Uh . . . are you okay?”
Diana’s skin had gone white, and she looked like she was about to faint. “Yeah, I just . . . what’s your friend’s name?”
“Levi Jasinski. Don’t tell me you know him!”
She inhaled sharply and shook her head. “No.” She glanced at her phone. “I should call Nikos. We’re meeting here.”
“In that case, I’ll leave you to it.” I did not need to see him now. “Good luck with your future research.”
“Thanks. Good luck with your restaurant.”
As I hurried away from the harbor, I couldn’t help but feel like she hadn’t been completely honest with me. She did know Levi. The question was: How?
Chapter 25
He collapsed against her, panting. That had been the most intense sexual experience of his life. It wasn’t she who had finally capitulated to him, but rather he who had allowed himself to be snared in her net. To crash against her shores and reach out a hand, a drowning man.
- One Week with the Greek
CALLIE
