He walked through the alfresco area of the restaurant where diners were enjoying the morning sun and through to the cool darkness of the main restaurant.
Theo Kargas was at the bar, speaking with the bar manager, and Luka could feel the young man’s tension from across the room.
‘Hey,’ he said to his father. ‘We need to talk.’
‘About?’ Theo asked, even as he crammed whitebait, crisped to perfection, into his mouth. He was utterly relaxed, for any angry words from his son always took place out of earshot of the staff.
Yes, Luka’s door was always closed.
Not so today.
‘I want to discuss your appalling treatment of my staff and your inexcusable conduct towards my mother.’
Theo almost choked, but then attempted a recovery. ‘ Your staff? We are partners. I gave you—’
‘You gave me nothing,’ Luka said, and got right in his father’s face. ‘You actually believe your own lies. Now, as I said, we need to talk...’ He gestured to a table, for he too would prefer privacy for this but the fact he had first addressed the issues in front of the bar manager had been deliberate.
Theo would listen, or Luka would act.
‘I bought this restaurant,’ Luka said, ‘from the money I made picking up rich woman...’
‘Luka,’ his father warned, for a waiter was setting up the table and could hear what was being said.
‘What?’ Luka shrugged. ‘I’m not ashamed of it.’
Well, perhaps he was a bit, but having told Cecelia the real truth about his start he felt more reconciled with it.
So he told his father a truth that had consistently been ignored. ‘I gave you an opportunity to work, and you spurned it. I have put up with it for years for my mother’s sake. No more. I am hiring a new manager, who shall report directly to me. One more episode of your foul temper used on my staff and I shall take you through the courts to extricate you from our agreement and the restaurant’s name shall be changed to Luka Kargas.’
‘It would kill your mother.’
‘She’s already dying,’ Luka pointed out, and then he looked right at his father. ‘Actually, she isn’t, because I am moving her to London for her treatments and I am going to ensure that she rests and is taken care of between them.’
‘You can’t just swan in here and dictate—’
‘Oh, but I can,’ Luka said. ‘I own the complex, and I have a half-share in the restaurant, and,’ he added, ‘I can destroy you if I so choose. You should be pleading with your wife to seek treatment, because if it wasn’t for her you’d be seeing your days out in a shack on the hills and, believe me, Theo, you don’t want to test me on that.’
‘I’m your father!’ Theo reared and stood and leant across the table and grabbed Luka’s shirt.
‘More’s the pity,’ Luka said. ‘And I strongly suggest that you get your hands off me. I’m not ten years old any more, or a skinny teenager up against a brute. I could floor you and I am more than willing to do it.’
Sensibly, his father removed his hand, for it was clear Luka meant every word. But he was not finished yet. ‘You have no idea the ruthless bastard I can be. I could crush you and your so-called empire in the palm of my hand,’ Luka said. ‘And I will say it again, just so we’re clear—the only reason I’ve held back where the resort is concerned is for the sake of my mother.’
It was Luka who stood up and walked off back towards his villa.
He’d have loved to have hit his bully of a father, but what good could come from that? So instead he stripped off and dived into the pool, pounding out several lengths before hauling himself from the water a touch breathless.
And then he messaged Cecelia.
We need to talk.
His message came up on her computer and Cecelia tensed, because though they had spoken about work both online and on the phone on many occasions, this sounded rather personal.
She replied quickly.
I’m about to call someone in for an interview.
So?
Of course he didn’t mean that they needed to speak about what had taken place between them, Cecelia scolded herself for her less-than-professional reply. If Luka Kargas wanted to speak to his PA it didn’t matter if she’d been about to call someone in.
‘I have to speak with Mr Kargas,’ Cecelia said to the interviewee. ‘I’ll be back when I can.’
Cecelia didn’t apologise for keeping Sabine waiting, for the potential PA might as well get a glimpse of what she would be in for.
A moment later his face appeared on her screen and Cecelia got more than a glimpse.
His chest was naked and her view was of a dark mahogany nipple surrounded by a swirl of black hair. But then he angled the screen better and she saw that his hair was wet and he was squinting from the bright sun.
‘What can I do for you?’ Cecelia asked.
Her voice was cool, her demeanour brisk and she was determined that they were back to business.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘Working.’ She frowned. ‘Marco has a few things he needs to run by you but apart from that things are ticking along.’
She was wearing a grey dress with a sheer grey silky cardigan, because perish the thought that she might show too much skin. Her hair was neat and pulled back and yet now he knew another side to her he couldn’t help but see her buttoned-up appearance for what it was. A defence strategy.
‘I want you to fly here,’ Luka said. ‘I want you here tonight.’
Cecelia stared back at him. ‘For work?’
‘No.’
She liked it that he was direct.
In fact, Cecelia liked it that he had basically asked her to get on a plane for sex. But what happened when he got bored? She reminded herself of all the reasons she had refused his original offer.
He would wake up one morning and instead of kisses she would sense his restlessness.
His slight disdain.
Oh, she had seen it on too many occasions not to know what was in store for her.
At least here in London she was but a taxi ride away from salvaging her pride when he told her they were through.
But in Xanero?
Did she book her own flight home?
Or would they suffer it through until she left his employ less than three weeks from now?
‘If it isn’t for work, then I shan’t be joining you.’
‘Fine,’ Luka snapped. ‘In that case, I need you to go and view some apartments for me.’
‘Sure.’
‘And I want you to interview some private nurses. Make sure they speak Greek.’
Cecelia took down the details.
It was now all very businesslike. Surly, but businesslike. Yet she ached to know more about his mother, though she resisted asking for details that were not with the remit of a professional relationship.
They had spent one night together, and she knew from his reputation that that didn’t give her the keys to his private life.
‘How are the interviews for your replacement going?’ Luka asked.
‘I’m getting there,’ Cecelia said. ‘I’m on the second round, so I should have a shortlist of three for you to choose from.’
‘Any stand-outs?’
Cecelia hesitated.
Luka was a demanding boss but she almost had to shake the stars from potential employees’ eyes to ensure they understood what the job entailed.
But one had stood out.
Sabine.
She had an incredible work history and was bright and engaging. The only trouble was that Cecelia didn’t like her.
‘There’s one,’ Cecelia said. ‘Sabine. I’m just about to interview her again and give her a tour but...’
‘But what?’
‘I don’t know,’ Cecelia admitted.
‘Try telling me.’
‘I don’t like her.’ Cecelia shrugged. ‘But, then, she’s not for me to like. I’ll see how this interview goes. She speaks Greek, which might be a help with your mother, and...’
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