Adonis in Athens - Page 19

The meeting ran late, the two businessmen asking to see documentation, customs records from different countries, and all kinds of demonstrations about how they did things. At 1:30, Melina ordered lunch and Apollo snuck off to his office to text Paige.

Meeting is still going—I’m sorry. Please do something fun today and don’t let me spoil it for you. It can’t go more than a couple more hours.

I’m still at the museum—it’s amazing and there’s so much to see and study. I’m having lunch here at the café. Don’t worry about me. Just close your deal and we’ll celebrate tonight!

He let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding and leaned back against the door of his office, looking out at the water. These guys were breaking his balls just because they could and he sensed he was losing them. He had to do something to turn it around and quickly. He’d taken a gamble once on a sweet girl in Vegas and somehow she’d come back to him; maybe it was time to take more gambles. Doing this by the book didn’t seem to be working out and he probably only had one more chance. He took off his jacket and laid it on the back of his chair, loosening his tie at the same time. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the tattoo of an eagle on his forearm, and stuck his phone in his pocket. If they wanted to play hardball, he could play too.

“Forgive me, Baba,” he murmured under his breath.

He walked back into the conference room and ignored his sister’s wide-eyed surprise and the curious glances from the Italians at his change in appearance. He sank into his chair and leaned back, allowing his sister to set out the food that had just arrived. He waved it away when she put a plate in front of him and feigned disinterest as they ate. Melina and the head of sales, Marcos, kept up a steady stream of chatter, answering questions about the beaches and nightlife in Athens, while he remained aloof. He let the tension build until the food had been cleared away and everyone seemed to be waiting for him to say or do something.

“Did you have more questions?” he asked smoothly, looking from one to the other. “We’ve shown you everything except how big our dicks are—would that help move things along?”

He could almost feel Melina’s startled gasp, but the elder of the two Italians burst out laughing. “Ah, yes, business is often a… What is the American phrase? Pissing contest?”

“I don’t really like those kinds of games,” Apollo shrugged. “My company has a solid reputation and dozens of references. I’ve given you my entire morning and you’re still undecided. If there is something I can actually show you, or some part of the contract you’d like to discuss specifically, I’ll sit here all day. However, if your intention is simply to wear me down or, as you say, compete in a pissing contest because you can, I have other aspects of my business to run. We’d very much like your business, but we have done and will continue to do quite well without it.”

The two men looked at each other and this time it was the younger man who spoke. “Sometimes we like to see what the men we do business with are made of—beyond the contracts and spreadsheets.”

“And are you convinced that I meet your standards?”

“We’d like to have dinner tonight and wrap this up in an informal setting.”

“I have plans this evening with an old friend from the U.S.,” Apollo said quietly. “She’s only here a few days and these plans have been in place for a long time. It would be incredibly rude for me to cancel them.”

“This is excellent—since it’s a woman, she can join us and the ladies can perhaps chat while we conclude our business.”

The look in the older man’s eye was almost a dare, as if he didn’t believe Apollo actually had an American friend in town. So Apollo smiled and inclined his head. “Then I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. What time?”

They finalized plans for the evening and at last the Italians were gone. When Melina started to say something, he held up a hand silencing her. “Not one word until I’ve had a drink.” He strode into his office and sank into his chair, yanking open the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulled out a bottle of aged Kentucky whiskey—a gift one of his fraternity brothers from Yale sent every year at Christmas—and poured two fingers into a tumbler. He tossed it back in one shot, letting it burn its way down his esophagus. Then he opened his eyes and met the curious gazes of Melina, Tasos and Marcos.

“You were brilliant,” Melina said softly, surprising him.

He snorted. “Yeah, we’ll see how brilliant I am when they take their business to Papaspirou.”

“They’re not taking their business to those crooks!” Marcos rolled his eyes.

“It’s been a long day already,” Apollo waved a hand. “Go on home, Marcos. Tasos, you can leave at three. Melina, you don’t need to stay either.”

She chuckled. “Nice try, little brother. I’m not going anywhere until we talk.”

“On that note, I’m going home!” Marcos laughed.

“I’ve got phones to answer,” Tasos mumbled.

When they were alone, Melina strode around behind the desk, pulled out the bottle of whiskey and poured herself a shot. Instead of downing it like he’d done, she perched on the edge of his desk and looked down at him. She took a delicate sip of the whiskey and smiled as it went down, and then held it on her lap as she cocked her head.

“Whatever happened yesterday, you’re going to tell me anyway, so why torture both of us?”

He chuckled, knowing she was probably right. He was close to Melina, more so than Sophia. Whether it was because they were closer in age or because they’d both enjoyed going to school in the U.S. more than Sophia had, he wasn’t sure, but he trusted her with almost everything and her support today meant the world to him.

“Who is she?” she pressed.

“If I tell you,” he said quietly, not meeting her gaze. “You have to give me your word that you won’t tell anyone. Not Mama or Baba, and definitely not Sophia. Your word of honor, Lena.”

She looked startled. “Of course.”

“She’s my wife.”