Greek for Beginners (15 page)

THIRTEEN

Darcie had been
back in Buffalo a full week when she saw Tad. She had called him upon her return to the States and left a brief message to let him know she was home safe and sound, and appreciated the concern he'd expressed in his many voice mails. She'd tried to make it clear in her tone that she didn't want to rehash the past, but he showed up at her parents' house one evening anyway.

Becky had been nice enough to let her move in after the breakup, but Darcie couldn't keep imposing on her friend, nor could she afford to pay half the rent if she wanted to save up for New York, which meant she'd moved back in with her parents.

“Tad, it's so good to see you. Isn't it good to see him, Darcie?” Her mother beamed a smile in her direction as they stood in the foyer.

“Come on, hon. Let's leave them alone,” her father said. He sent Darcie a wink of encouragement as he led her mother to the kitchen.

“I probably should have called first,” Tad said. He smiled weakly. “I guess I didn't want to take the chance that you would tell me not to come. I think we need to talk.”

“I think we've said all there is to say.”

His expression made it clear he didn't agree.

“I ran in to Becky while you were in Greece. She told me you'd met someone. A smooth-talking local who was squiring you about Athens because of a little misunderstanding with the tour company.”

A little misunderstanding?

“Tad, the company you booked our honeymoon trip with was all but bankrupt. If not for Nick I would have been stranded at the airport and then booking a return flight to Buffalo within two days.”

“I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry about a lot of things, Darcie.” He reached for her hand. Because it would have been rude to tug it away, she let him hold it while he went on. “When you didn't answer any of the messages I became worried that something had happened to you.”

How sweet, she was thinking, until he added, “Or that you'd done something stupid.”

“Stupid?”

“You haven't been acting like yourself, Darcie. Your mother mentioned that you're thinking of quitting your job. You love that job.”

“I've
tolerated
that job,” she corrected. How could he still not understand that? “I've always wanted to be a serious journalist and live in the city.”

“I thought you outgrew that dream.”

“No.”

Tad went on as if she hadn't spoken. “When your mother told me that you'd postponed your return from Greece, I almost booked a flight to Athens.”

That came as a surprise. Tad had never been the sort to do anything spontaneous. “Why would you do that?”

“To save you from doing something rash. Given your fragile state of mind and what Becky had said about your tour guide...”

She did tug her hand away now and then crossed her arms over her chest. “My fragile state of mind?”

“You weren't thinking clearly. I hoped by giving you time, you would come to your senses and then we could sit down and have a rational discussion about our future.”

She shook her head. Her smile was sad, even if she knew she had made the right decision. “We had plenty of time to talk, Tad. We were engaged for six years. I thought I wanted to be your wife, but
—
”

“I know you were upset about moving in with my mother. You've made your point. I'm willing to compromise. We can buy our own house. We won't build the addition onto Mother's. She understands.” Of course he would have run it by Evelyn first to gain her approval. “Besides, she's only sixty-six and in good health yet. We can revisit our living arrangements in a few years.”

“No!” Darcie screamed before moderating her tone. “Look, Tad, I don't want to hurt you, but we aren't getting back together.”

The Taylor Swift song played in her head and she nearly added a few
evers
just for emphasis.

“It's the man you met in Greece. He turned you against me,” Tad muttered sourly.

Of this much Darcie was certain. “Nick doesn't have anything to do with our breakup. I made that decision before he and I met.”

“You're stressed out, confused,” Tad insisted. “You don't know what you want. You don't know what you're saying.”

“But I do know, Tad. I can't marry you. I'm sorry. I don't love you.”

She loved Nick.

* * *

Nick's apartment was quieter than he recalled it being, and some of the delight he found in Manhattan definitely was missing. He went about the business of living and working, but the days ticked by slowly and it was a constant struggle not to pick up the phone and call Darcie. He wanted to talk to her or even just hear her voice saying his name.

The brochure she'd helped him with went to the printer. He popped a few copies of it in the mail to her when he got them. That was business and as a contract employee she was entitled to them. As much as he wanted to, he didn't include a personal note, only his business card paper-clipped to the first page of one of the copies. In addition to no phone calls, they were to have no correspondence of any kind. He cursed himself a fool for coming up with the idea.

How was she? What was she doing? Such questions haunted him. Most of all, he tortured himself wondering: would she change her mind? Come January, would she be at the auction house? Six months was starting to feel like a life sentence.

* * *

Darcie felt the same way, but she was using the time wisely. Since her return to Buffalo, she'd nailed down several more freelance jobs. The articles she'd written for Nick's auction brochure helped open some doors. Others she unlocked with sheer persistence. Interestingly enough, it was her work as a fact-checker at the trade publication that proved to be the deal sealer when it came to finding full-time employment in New York.

The week before Thanksgiving she interviewed with three magazines in the city, coming into town early on a Friday morning. She'd been tempted to seek out Nick after the interviews were over. His business card was in her purse. But they had a deal. She flew back to Buffalo the following morning, watching the city grow smaller from the plane's tiny window.

Regardless of what happened with Nick, she would be back. Two of the magazines had offered her a job on the spot. Darcie had already called to accept one of them. The pay was low, and she wouldn't be doing as much writing as she'd hoped. At least not at first. But the potential was there in the future not only for assignments, but also for a monthly column in the print magazine as well as in the online version.

In the meantime, she would be living her dream.

* * *

Nerves fluttered like a dozen butterflies in her stomach the morning of the auction in January. If all went as she hoped that day, Darcie would be with Nick, and they would be kicking off a new chapter as a couple. In anticipation of that, she made sure to put on her sexiest underwear.

And if he wasn't there?

She pushed the thought away and finished dressing. When she was done, she eyed her reflection in the full-length mirror that was attached to the back of the bathroom door in her tiny Brooklyn efficiency. She had purchased a new dress for the occasion. Red, as she'd promised him. It scooped low in the front and fitted snugly across her hips. When she'd tried it on at the store, she'd snapped a picture with her cell phone and sent it to Becky for confirmation.

Her friend had texted back:
Va-va-va-voom
.

It was a bit much for a daytime auction, but Darcie didn't care. She wanted to make a statement. And, truth be told, she couldn't wait for Nick to slip it off and then work his way through her sexy undergarments.

The day was cold and it had snowed the night before, leaving the sidewalks covered in slush. After she got out of the cab, she sloshed her way to the auction house's main door in a pair of impractical high heels. Her toes were frozen by the time she got inside the large, cavernous building. She was early by an hour, but the place was already crowded with would-be buyers, car enthusiasts and others who just enjoyed the spectacle. Even though she didn't plan to make any purchases, she had to sign in and received a numbered paddle. Then she made a loop of the main room, hoping to spot Nick. With just minutes to spare before the first automobile went on the block, she hadn't had any luck.

What if he had changed his mind?

She hadn't wanted to consider the possibility, but now, with her nerves working overtime, she could think of little else. Before they'd said goodbye at the airport, he'd seemed so concerned that Darcie would be the one to have second thoughts, given all of the upheaval in her life, but what if he had? What if after six months apart, he'd decided he didn't want to pursue a relationship with her after all?

“Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to get started. If you could please take your seats,” a man's voice said over the public address system.

Darcie found an open spot in the middle of a row halfway up the main aisle.

The first automobile up for bid was an Austin-Healey similar in age to the one Ari had traded to Nick as part of the Porsche deal in Trikala. It needed some body work and the upholstery on the driver's side was in poor condition. It came as no surprise when it went for a song to a man with a handlebar mustache seated three rows behind her.

“Come on now, ladies and gentlemen. You can do better than that,” the auctioneer teased the crowd. “These cars are classics. Even the ones that need work are diamonds in the rough.”

By the time the fourth automobile came up for bid the crowd was primed. Paddles were shooting into the air all around her, but Darcie had stopped paying attention. She was too busy glancing about for Nick and trying to keep her hopes from deflating.

Maybe she had misunderstood their conversation in the airport. For the third time since arriving at the auction, she looked at the cocktail napkin she'd saved from six months earlier and read the information. There was no mistake. This was the right place. The right time. But where was Nick? Even as she tried to deny it, the answer she kept coming up with was that he'd changed his mind.

Finally, the last vehicle listed in the program came onto the block. It was a 1962 Maserati Spyder. The cherry-red convertible was in mint condition. The auctioneer opened the bidding at seventy-five thousand. It quickly shot up to twice that and kept climbing even as Darcie's spirits started to free-fall.

“I have one-ninety, one-ninety, can I get two? Can I get two?” The auctioneer's chant was rapid-fire. The two in this case referred to two hundred thousand dollars.

The auctioneer got his wish and then some. The vehicle ultimately sold for a quarter of a million dollars. And that was it. The auction was over. Nick wasn't there.

Darcie could barely swallow around the lump in her throat. Her eyes were stinging, her nose starting to run. In a few minutes, she was going to look every bit as wretched as she felt. She wanted to be anywhere but where she was. Unfortunately, leaving wasn't going to be accomplished quickly given the crowd. She rose along with the other people packed in the auditorium. The first tear was sliding down her cheek when the auctioneer's voice boomed over the loudspeaker again.

“Hold on, folks. Hold on. Take your seats again, please. We have one last item up for bid today. It's not listed in your programs. It's something very special.”

A murmur of surprise went up from the crowd as people returned to their seats. Darcie swiped at her damp cheeks. Unless she wanted to draw attention to herself by stepping over the half-dozen spectators in her row that were between her and the aisle, she had no choice but to take hers as well.

Once the audience had quieted down, the auctioneer continued. “This item is a little unusual. It's going to require a special buyer, which is why the seller has set a reserve.”

Darcie was hunting through her purse for a tissue and only half listening, but she knew that meant the seller had requested a minimum bid be met in order for the sale to go through. Such a strategy could prove risky, but it also ensured that an item of great worth didn't wind up selling way under value simply because the right buyers weren't in attendance.

Must be some car, she thought, momentarily halting her quest for a tissue to glance at the stage. She didn't see an automobile. Instead, she saw Nick saunter out.

The women in the crowd went wild, cheering and clapping and whistling shrilly. Darcie would have joined them had she been capable of making noise. But at that moment, even breathing was proving difficult.

He was here!

And looking gorgeous in a classically cut tuxedo with a snowy white shirt and black bow tie. His dark hair was neatly combed. Just wait till she got him alone. She was going to run her fingers through it, leaving it mussed and sexy.

“I've got a platinum credit card!” a curvy blonde near the front hollered. “Whatever the reserve is, I'm sure I can meet it.”

Other women began shouting out dollar amounts then, even though the auctioneer had yet to start the bidding.

“Ladies, ladies. Quiet down. As I said, this is a special auction item. Nick Costas is offering a personal tour of Manhattan and dinner at his favorite Greek restaurant to the woman who meets his reserve.”

“What's the amount?” someone called out.

“Nick and I have known one another for a long time. We're competitors in business, but friends, too. Still, he hasn't told me. All he has said is that he will let me know when or if the terms of the sale have been met.”

When the audience began grumbling, the auctioneer silenced them. “It gets more bizarre, folks. Nick will pick up the tab for the winning bid and give the amount to the charity of the winner's choice.”

“So, there's no risk?” a woman asked.

“Only to your hearts. So, ladies, get ready to raise those paddles. Bidding starts at one thousand dollars.”