Page 36 of Love on the Rocks
“It’s perfect,” I answered, and then turned my attention back to my coffee. “So is that why you’re so against the construction of the resort? Because it’s threatening your olive grove? I was told that it was no longer functional.”
Nikos leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “It’s not the loss of the grove itself. Though that’s one tragedy. Can you imagine losing trees that have been there for over a century?”
“No.” I couldn’t argue against that. “Maybe we could build around them. It’s a high-end eco-resort. I’m sure there’s something that can be done.”
“An eco-resort?” he scoffed. “Who told you that?”
“I’ve studied the plans. We want to bring the most profit to the island while respecting the environment.”
“Please, if they wanted to respect the environment, they’d leave it as is. Do you think late-night DJ pool parties, gas-guzzling yachts in the harbor, and tourists trampling on the hills isn’t a violation of the island?”
I shook my head. “That’s not the goal. It’ll be a spa, with fine dining. A place for people to come, meditate, escape. They’re not trying to turn the island into Mykonos.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized they were a lie. Hadn’t Gaz said exactly that to me? That the place would be the next destination for the elite, jet-setting crowd?
“Then they lied to you.” He stared at me, his jaw muscle working.
That was a bit too much coming from him. “There’s one person who has lied to me and that’s you.”
He didn’t argue with me.
Neither of us spoke for a minute as we watched a gull dive into the sea. Finally, he said, “Why is it so important to you? You want to be stuck out here? You don’t strike me as someone who can be away from the city for very long.”
“What makes you say that?”
He nodded at my phone. “It’s like an appendage.”
“I am not permanently attached to my phone. It’s just become an obsession lately because I have such shoddy service and want to be able to take advantage of any good Wi-Fi when I can. In my normal life I’m not on it that often,” I lied, embarrassed by how dependent I had become on my phone, especially since I’d been trying to grow my social media following.
“Then there’s this.” He gestured at me with one hand. “You look a little high maintenance. How many designers are you wearing? I bet you go shopping in every city you visit.”
“Wow, judgy a little? Yes, I invest in my wardrobe. Designer pieces last for years, so it’s more sustainable than buying a lot of cheaper clothes that fall apart after a few months. Most of it’s vintage anyway.” This particular criticism stung. It wasn’t always easy finding clothes that flattered me, but I wasn’t about to hide behind oversized items. I liked my curves, and I liked wearing clothes that complemented my body. If that meant spending extra, I was willing to sacrifice in other areas.
“Anyway, what I wear is none of your business.” I folded my hands under my breasts, drawing his gaze to my cleavage.
“I like what you wear. I just meant that there’s no High Street here, so you might get bored.”
“I think I can keep myself occupied.”
“Right, I forgot you have toys.”
I threw an olive pit at him. “Are you going to keep bringing that up every time we have a conversation? Because if so, I’m just going to go back to not talking to you.”
“Sorry, but it’s hard to get that image out of my head.” The air between us became heavy. We stared at each other, and I wondered, briefly, what he’d do if I reached out and touched his hand.
But he was the one who reached out. The blunt pads of his fingers pushed back the hair that had fallen over my forehead, then slowly down my temple to my jaw, lingering there. I held my breath as he angled my head up slightly and clicked his tongue. “You have a bruise here. You did hit your head.”
He went back inside and came back with another compress and disinfectant. He tilted my head up and gently pressed the cool cloth to my temple. When he started humming “Hard Headed Woman,” I was helpless to do anything but just stare up at him.
“You never answered my question,” he said finally. I was staring at his mouth, I realized, and shook my head.
“Which one?”
“Why is the resort so important to you?”
“Because it’s an opportunity. For the first time in my career, I’ve been asked to head a kitchen. It’s huge. If I eventually want to go back in France, I’ll have to put this place on the map first.”
He stiffened. “Right, so it’s a steppingstone. As long as you get what you want, who cares who you step on in the process.”
