I smile like I always do when I think of Gran. ‘I love staying with her. The timing has been ideal in that respect.’ That reminds me of the other job that needs doing. ‘What are the chances we could draw on some of your literary connections to find a guest speaker for the launch of Epeolatry? Reclusive writer graces us with their presence, makes a big splash and library bar and memberships go nuts.’
He places another filo parcel onto my plate. The man really is thoughtful when it comes to sharing food. Or maybe he’s a feeder? I’ll be in a food coma, lethargic and dreamy while he does whatever it is body snatchers do. He brings me back to the now by saying, ‘Love it. But name a reclusive writer? Who’ve you got in mind?’
I conjure images but no authors spring to mind. ‘Someone broody and mysterious.’
‘So we’re after the drama of a J. D. Salinger-esque novelist?’
I try to cut my filo pastry into bite-size pieces so I’m not covered in crumbs. ‘Yes! A literary great who hasn’t been seen in society for the last fifty years or so?’
As he considers it, he tilts his head. ‘Is there such a thing these days when it’s crucial writers are engaged with their readers? They’re across social media. They attend festivals, host writing workshops and …’
I roll my eyes. ‘You’re killing the vibe, Georgios.’
He grins, that same smile that lights up his face, as if I have truly made him happy on the inside. ‘Sorry. You’re right, we do need a drawcard, a person who usually shuns the limelight …’
We pause when another dish arrives. ‘Melitzanes Santorini.’ A white eggplant dish with tomatoes, herbs and kefalotyri cheese. It would be easy being vegetarian in Greece with the way they transform humble vegetables into hearty, wholesome dishes. I take a bite. The white eggplant is much sweeter than the purple eggplant from home.
‘Why don’t we go for a writer wholovesthe limelight?’ I ask, the practical side kicking in.
‘Anyone spring to mind?’ He dabs at the corner of his mouth with a napkin.
‘The writers whose books I chose to be developed into film live so far away, I doubt they could rearrange their schedules in time.’
‘Yeah, the last-minute nature of this is going to be an issue.’
I consider the options. ‘Who’s big right now, but not too big that they’d never consider such a thing? Besides, we’re not exactly rolling in cash to woo them with. Gah, I can’t think of a writer who’d attend just for kicks. Won’t they expect the red-carpet treatment? An attendance fee? Possibly legions of screaming, adoring fans? We can’t offer any of that – not really.’
He clicks his fingers. ‘What about Lucy Strike? She likes meeting her fans, old and new.’
Lucy Strike has quite the reputation for being a seductress. ‘I’ve read a few of her books. I especially enjoyed her mafia series. What an eye-opener. Really rang true.’ And I should know, being caught up in Gran’s Cosa Nostra catastrophe. I’m sure Lucy has ties to the oldest family in the world – that or she’s done some epic jailhouse interviews with a snitch who would then most likely be … exterminated.
‘Yeah, they’re fun, fast-paced reads.’
‘The publishing grapevine is always hot with gossip about the flirtatious author, sometimes I wonder if it overshadows her writing.’ There I’ve said it.
‘Lucy is a huge flirt but it’s part of her public persona; it’s all smoke and mirrors. Icouldask her about attending as guest speaker,’ he says with the lift of a shoulder.
‘You know her personally?’ Could he be one of her previous conquests?
He takes a sip of water. ‘Yep, she’s one of my authors.Was, I guess. She jumped ship from Bennett Press to us with her last book. Lucy springs to mind because she lives in Palermo, Italy. Not too far for the launch if we can promise her a night to remember.’
Urgh, she’s probably in love with the gorgeous fool and will spend the night draped over him like a blanket.Actually, noshe can’t, because he’s in a committed faux relationship with me. It’s time we had the boundaries talk.
‘Sure, sounds great. Let’s get her on board. Just one thing …’
Another course comes and with it the salty scent of seafood distracting me for a moment. Octopus tentacle, nope. Fried calamari, yes.
‘You don’t want any octopus?’ He asks, sensing my hesitation, probably because I can’t look at the octopus without screwing up my face.
‘No thanks. I always have this feeling that their suckers will suction on inside my body and need to be surgically removed. I’ll happily eat the calamari though.’
‘Umm, I’ve never heard of anyone having that problem before.’ Georgios waits with his fork poised patiently while I try the calamari, which tastes fresher than any seafood I’ve had before. I never want to leave this magical island.
‘Because they’re probably dead.’ It could happen and likely it has. ‘Best to be wary of anything with a built-in suction cup.’
‘Good advice. I’ll eat this though because I don’t want to offend the Attica family.’
‘It’s your life.’ He sure likes living on the edge. He better be careful because one day he might just fall off. ‘So, I’m just thinking out loud here: do we have rules when it comes to flirting with others, or say, if another person makes certain … advances towards us, we’d have to politely decline, right? I’m not saying we’re likeexclusive, or anything, I mean what even is this? A holiday fling?’ NO. ‘A brief dalliance?’ GOD NO. ‘Erm, a …?’
