Before we move down the list Roxy appears. ‘Hello, lovebirds,’ she says. Today she wears denim cut-offs and a tie-dyed tee that shows off her midriff. Times like this I wonder if my own style needs a bit of an overhaul. I’m a creature of habit though and I affectionately call my style bookworm chic, which consists of comfortable clothing that allows a person to stretch out into any reading pose and not be constricted. ‘Hello, Roxy. I’m so glad you’re here.’ I explain about RSVPs and my concerns.
‘Ah, don’t give it a second thought. The place will be jumping, I promise. It’s the island way to keep you guessing.’
I take a deep breath and relax. ‘OK. What’s next?’
Roxy opens her notebook. ‘Catering. Where are we with that?’
‘Done, Athena is making meze withdolmades, souvlakia arnisaand a range of other delicious finger foods. She’ll bring her own waitstaff for the evening. Gran’s hired Athena to run that side of things long-term. I’ve hired mixologists for the evening and one of them has agreed to stay on for the summer.’
‘Any chance we can get some arty food pics before the event? I’d love to share those across socials,’ Roxy says.
‘Great idea. Can you call Athena and ask?’
‘Consider it done. She’s my second cousin twice removed.’
‘Ah.’ Pork Chop trots in, steals rubbish from the bin and is out before I can check what it is.
‘Who’s going to be the librarian for the evening?’ The librarian’s job is to greet the guests and check memberships, facilitate new signs-ups, and give tours.
‘Gran?’
‘Has to be, right? After all, she’s knows her book collection best and she’s charismatic.’
We spend an hour making sure everything is ordered and accounted for, including the issue of where Lucy Strike will be sleeping. ‘Your villa?’ I ask Georgios, dumbfounded. ‘Wouldn’t she stay here?’
Roxy gives me the side-eye at this nugget of news.
‘You don’t have room here,’ Georgios says, frowning.
Ooh, I expect Lucy Strike would adore sharing a villa with Georgios. I picture them tipsily zigzagging back to his place, her sex-kitten giggle so obviously a farce to woo the poor fool. No, not on my watch. He’s too pure for this world and can’t see the manipulation happening right in front of him.
‘I’ll move out of my villa and into Gran’s.’
‘And sleep where … on Gran’s sofa? No, let Lucy stay in my villa. My grandmother is already scrubbing the life out of the bathroom. I’ll move in with my grandparents for a few days.’
‘Georgios, you could move in with Evie,’ Roxy says. ‘Her villa has a double bed.’
I gasp, scandalised. It hasn’t even been a month and she’s expecting I’d let a man sleep over! It breaks every dating rule, including ones I haven’t thought of yet.
‘It’s not a bad idea,’ he says. ‘I’d be close by for the launch and what I’m guessing will be a hectic few days afterwards when the library is open for business. If you have a sofa in your villa, I’m happy to sleep on that.’
‘Erm.’ Lucy Strike and her perfect pout spring to mind. That devious diva will probably be knocking on his grandparents’ door, asking him for a cup of sugar or some other euphemism that sweet Georgios won’t pick up on. ‘I do have a small sofa that might suffice.’ Just what am I doing here? Breaking all the rules and for what?
‘Cool,’ Roxy says. ‘That’s sorted. I’m going to find Floretta and finalise a few things. See you later.’ With a toss of her hair, she heads in the direction of Gran’s villa.
‘You’re tense – let me help you unwind.’
I’m expecting he’ll pour me a shot of ouzo and I’ll slug it back and say keep them coming, but instead he moves behind me, placing his hands on me and kneading the muscles. At his touch, my shoulders do the opposite of relax and fly somewhere up near my ears. The gesture is so intimate I don’t know whether to relax or run. He’s got magical fingers and despite the awkwardness of the moment, I give in to it.
Eventually, I sink into the rhythm as my body slowly becomes like liquid under his touch.
‘That’s better,’ he says quietly as I feel myself go limp and my eyelids grow heavy.
Time loses all meaning and I only come to when he removes his hands from my shoulders. I’m dazed. So relaxed I’m floppy. ‘Where were we?’ I say, fighting the urge to fall onto a sun lounger and fall into a deep slumber.
Chapter 21
On Thursday Georgios joins me at Epeolatry to help decorate. We shoo dogs from the bar and get to work setting up so we’re free to entertain our celebrity author when she arrives on Saturday. We hang book bunting – not made from real pagesobviously, there are no crimes against literature happening here – but instead made from photocopies of classical novels printed on old parchment to appear aged.
