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Zoe
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The restof the meeting is a blur to me.
I shouldn’t be, but I’m focused on him the entire time, to the point that Bia has to call my name twice or thrice to get my attention.
The time apart led my mind to play with the image of a cruel, unscrupulous man who, even though he knew he had destroyed a girl’s life due to his own negligence, ran away from his duty and simply offered a paltry sum to heal his own conscience.
When I found out, in Barcelona, who he was, I knew nothing about Christos Lykaios other than the insane desire he awakened in me. But now, when trying to analyze him from a distance, what Ernestine, Pauline’s mother, told me, makes no sense.
Of course, people change. I’m not the same naive, fearful girl he met on the ship, but that’s not what I’m talking about.
Character is something you can’t change, and Christos doesn’t show, I now realize, anything resembling someone who would run away from an obligation.
I look at his hard face, a shadow of a beard already growing. He doesn’t seem to be aware of my presence. While I’m unable to get my neurons to function properly, Christos remains impassive, not even looking in my direction.
I hear the conversation, but I am totally oblivious. I know that some new clauses are added, and when Bia asks me if I agree, I nod. But as far as I know, I could be trading my kidney on the illegal market. I can’t say what the clause contains, not even to save my own life.
“So, the first shoot will be in Greece, on Mr. Lykaios’s private island.”
Wait. What?
I look at Bia, confused, but she looks absolutely calm, so I repress it to freak out later.
That can’t mean much. There are always many people around for photoshoots or for filming commercials. It’s not like we’re going to be alone—it doesn’t even mean he’ll be there.
“With that, I think we’re done,” says the other man, who I know is called Yuri, and only then do the eyes of the one who was my firsteverythingturn to me again.
It lasts a few seconds.
Soon, he gets up. “Good afternoon, ladies. Our meeting is over,” he says. He turns on his heel and walks out of the room, leaving me confused and lost.
He looked mad at me.
Why did you leave when, with just one touch, you melt in my arms, Zoe? When your body, even after so long, still recognizes and responds to me?
How could he ask me something like that after treating me like a nobody?
The pieces don’t fit together, and not just for the two of us. The honor that Christos shows goes against everything Ernestine ever told me about him.
I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming but determined to investigate that story again.
“What happened in there, Zoe?”
“What do you mean?”
“I could start by saying that you seemed totally oblivious to reality throughout the entire meeting, but that’s not even what I’m talking about. Before that, it was obvious to everyone that you already knew each other. The sexual tension between you could light up a country.”
Bia is my best friend and confidant. She knows everything about my wedding, even the sordid details of the wedding night. She hates Mike with all her heart, and it was because of her advice, much more than therapy, that I decided to go through with the divorce.
Regardless of what happened after that brunette at the restaurant tried to humiliate me and Mike laughed at me, I already intended to end it.
But what Bia says now has nothing to do with my ex-husband. I never told her about my history with Christos; I think the time has come.
“Yes, we have a history. And I think I need you to help me understand it.”
Christos’s assistant comes back down the hall and says that the Greek’s private plane will take us back to Boston. I automatically nod, still overwhelmed by our encounter.
