‘So where are you looking? The big-five publishers? Something more bespoke?’
He dips his head as we walk along a narrow road in a humbler part of Santorini. Cows graze in open fields; there are fewer cars as the road thins more to a rural path. It’s really quite charming how he has these moments of nervousness. But is it all part of his plan, to stay single at all costs? ‘Actually, I had this crazy idea. It could be desperation talking.’
Somehow I can’t see Georgios being the desperate kind. He’s too measured, too methodical for that. ‘What’s your idea?’
‘What if I start my own publishing house?’
Georgios reads a broad range of literature, so I presume he’d publish an eclectic range of books if he had his own company. ‘I love that idea. Why not? You obviously have plenty of connections in the industry. Just how would you go about developing such a business?’
‘I’d start off small; have a few quality authors. Really champion those in my stable. Focus on looking after the authors I have rather than trying to scale up too quickly. It might be a pipe dream … I’d have to figure out how to fund it. I have savings but a lot of them are tied up in investments so I’ll have to speak to my financial adviser and work out what the best way forward is.’
We come to a quaint little family-owned taverna called Attica and are greeted effusively by the owners. They offer us a seat outside under a big blue umbrella. Olives are plonked on the table as they chat in rapid-fire Greek to Georgios. While they catch up I ponder his business idea.
Chapter 16
While the family from Attica fuss and fawn over Georgios like a long-lost son, I pretend to read the menu while my mind whirls. There’s a very simple solution that would fund his publishing dreams. Georgios can tell his grandfather to sell and take his early inheritance like the rest of his siblings have done. So why hasn’t he? Is his grandfather really that strict that he’d expect him to be married first? Isn’t that a bit of an antiquated way to live? But Yannis has mentioned that it might be easier to sell the property – if Georgios asked him to fund his business venture surely he’d do it. Who wouldn’t invest in their grandson’s dream? And that would be disastrous for Gran.
Beachgoers are ant size from our perch high up on the hill. When the Attica family finish catching up with Georgios, they leave us with offers of the freshest specials of the day, to which we happily agree. No need for a menu after all.
I train my gaze back on Georgios. ‘What about your inheritance? Surely that’s a way to fund your dreams. Would your grandfather agree?’ What if they really do sell out from under Gran? Yet another problem that will take a giant miracle to solve.
A teenage girl with long curly hair brings us a bottle of sparkling water, all the while staring at Georgios like he’s her dream man come to life. I hide a smile, wondering if I also wear that same lovestruck look in his presence. It should be illegal for a man to be so blithely unaware he’s setting hearts on fire everywhere he goes.
When she goes, tripping over her own feet, I turn back to him. ‘Wouldn’t you tell your grandfather your publishing plans and see if he could help with the financial side of things?’ I hate to put the thought in his head but it’s only fair, and better if we know it’s a real possibility before Gran sinks any further funds into a lost cause.
He lifts a palm to acknowledge the idea. ‘I’d prefer to do it on my own. If I rely on my family for money, then where does it end? It would feel then like I had investors rather than running my own show.’
I give him a nod, struck once again by his morals. What remains unsaid is the fact that it would also put Gran out of business and she’d lose the money she spent on renovations. It’s highly unlikely a new owner would be as lenient about unpaid rent as Yannis has been. ‘I get it. And I really believe you can do it. Find those precious gems in the slush pile and make them shine.’
‘My concern is …’
The teenage daughter returns, plates in hand. ‘This isfava me koukiaandspanakopita,’ she says placing the food down. You definitely eat with your eyes in Greece. Every plate is a work of art.
We thank her and Georgios explains the dishes. ‘This one is smashed fava beans with lemon and fennel and this one is spinach and feta in filo pastry.’
‘Delicious. So you were saying?’ I take a hefty scoop of smashed fava beans and reach for a slice of pita bread, glad he’s not offering to feed me in front of the family.
‘Will the gamble pay off? Or is this some kind of middle-aged panic. A publishing pipe dream?’
‘You’re hardly middle-aged! It’s not a pipe dream, it’s an achievable dream. You have plenty of experience to pull it off. These days you don’t even need an office space, right? You could work anywhere and make it happen. Keep your overheads down and focus on what matters: the words. You have plenty of connections.’
He nods, acknowledging that. ‘Ten years in publishing. I started as an assistant who fetched coffees, before moving to the lofty heights of fetching lunch, and slowly paid my dues until I worked up to editorial director. I’ve been involved in every facet of the business, in one way or another. I’ll crunch some numbers and see if it’s viable. But that’s sort of where I’m headed. What about you? Any callbacks on those job applications?’
I sigh. ‘A documentary job I applied for is filled so I sent a rather desperate email asking the recruiter if he knew of anyone else I could contact, but so far no reply. I’m considering contacting Gene who originally hired me for Hollywood Films, but I’m not sure. He’s living it up in Florida and I don’t want to intrude.’
Georgios plates a spoonful of the smashed fava beans. ‘I’m sure one phone call won’t hurt.’
‘I’m more of an email person.’
‘Even better then. Why not email? If he’s busy he won’t reply, so as I see it you haven’t got anything to lose.’
‘You’re right. And as far as bosses go he was the best. The thing is, his wife Betsy practically outlawed any contact with movie biz people. Other than that, I might have to go back to New York and beg for my previous editorial job back. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it – I love editing – it’s that they were big on the whole team-player aspect. And don’t even get me started on all those Friday morning meetings that could have been emails.’
He laughs, a velvety sound that produces a rash of goose bumps along my skin. Like, seriously? Even his laugh is golden. There’s times like this when he’s so interested and supportive that part of me forgets this is meant to be fake. The truth tickles the tip of my tongue and I want so badly to admit I’m fake-dating him so we can start fresh for real, but the sensible side of my brain kicks in and reminds of my gran and what she stands to lose. ‘Email Gene and give it time.’
‘Yeah. My dreams have sprouted wings and Ireallywant to be a book scout, but it’s proving hard yet not impossible. I’m considering other options rather than focusing on only romance and that’s OK as it could lead to other opportunities. You’re right, it’s a waiting game and I’m lucky enough to be able to stay here and keep busy in the bookshop.’
‘Your gran needs you right now too.’
