Page 95 of Love on the Rocks
I knew she could handle whatever they threw at her. She was more than capable of standing up for herself, but I wanted her to know that she could count on me. Maybe I didn’t deserve her trust, but she had my faith in her unconditionally whether she wanted it or not.
And so I sat with Argos on my terrace, nursing one of Panos’s beers, watching shadows move behind the light in her window. Those bastards didn’t deserve her or her food. Hell, neither did I, but at least I had the intelligence and decency to recognize that I wasn’t worthy. When I thought of all the labor, all of her heart and soul she’d put into everything, it seemed like sacrilege that it should get anywhere near that douchebag’s mouth.
I took another swig of beer and stroked Argos’s head. My breath caught when Callie finally stepped outside, that Greystone bastard at her heels. They were standing close—too close—and he put his hand around her shoulder. My fingers curled into a fist, and I stood to get a better view. And when she pushed him away and started yelling, I was out the door in a flash, racing across the square.
I pounded on the locked door until the other chef, her miserable French colleague, opened it. Shoving him aside, I barreled past the Greek investors and the Ralph Lauren model and crashed onto the terrace where Callie was facing off with that asshole. Her eyes widened when she saw me. Greystone gave me a once-over. I knew jealousy when I saw it. He thought I was on his turf, but he was on mine, and I was not about to let him forget it. I was done playing nice with this fucker.
“Jaysus, Cal. Good work. Looks like you took my advice and did more than flash your tits at him.” He clapped his hands together, the hollow sound echoing in the still night air.
“Gareth!” his brother warned.
“You know that’s why we sent you, right?” Greystone continued. “It wasn’t because you’re such a great chef or a cunning businesswoman. It’s because we knew if we sent a beautiful woman to an island full of desperate, lonely blokes, you’d win ’em over. You didn’t really have to fuck him.”
No sooner had those words left his nasty mouth, than I snatched him by the shirt collar and dragged him up on his toes.
“Nikos! Don’t!” cried Callie. “It’s not worth it.”
“Apologize to her right now,” I demanded.
“I bloody well won’t. And you’ll get your goddamn hands off me before I destroy your worthless arse.”
I twisted my fist tighter against his collar and he gagged. I felt Callie’s hand on my arm. “He’s not kidding. Just stop it now. Please.”
Reluctantly I loosened my grip. He rubbed his hand over his neck and then had the nerve to address Callie again. “You always did make shit decisions, Cal.”
“The worst decision I ever made was attaching myself to you!” she yelled.
“As if you’d be anything without me. You owe everything to me. You think your mediocre food got you that job at Marcel? If you walk away, you’ll be back on the line at some zero-star Eurotrash café. Face it, babe, you should still be getting on your knees for me.”
Red flashed before my eyes and my fist connected with his jaw, sending him flying back against the tile floor. He landed with a hard thud, bleeding from the nose and lip.
Callie screamed and flung herself over him. “Oh my God, what did you do?”
Adrenaline was still shooting through my veins. My knuckles throbbed. And I couldn’t make sense of why she was touching him.
“Have you lost your mind?” she yelled again.
“I won’t have him talking about you like that!” I growled.
“You don’t need to come to my rescue. I was taking care of it myself!” She stood and pushed me toward the door. “Leave now!”
* * *
I don’t know how long I sat in the square, seething with helpless rage. The yacht that had brought the terrible six in was now anchored in the harbor and a small boat had come to shore to collect them. The door opened and out walked the Greeks, followed by the Greystones. I stood ready to finish what I’d started, but then Callie appeared, shooting me a warning glance.
At first, I thought she would ignore me again, but she walkedover, her face expressionless. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my hand and examined my abraded knuckles.
“Goddamn piercings,” I said.
“Serves you right,” she replied, drawing her thumb over the red marks. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
“He can say whatever he wants. I know it’s not true.” She sighed. I’d never seen her look so exhausted. “Now he could sue you, try to take away your medical license. Honestly, you’re a doctor. You should know better.”
“The truth is, when it comes to you, I’m not in my right mind.” I rubbed my pounding temples and moved closer to her.
“No one’s ever gotten into a fight for me before,” she admitted, a twinge of sadness in her voice.
