Page 17 of Accidental Getaway

A few minutes before I’m supposed to meet Ana, I’m still trying to get ready.

I barely ate my lunch, so I’m starving, and I can’t figure out how to do my hair.

I’m wearing a black cotton sundress with a sweetheart neckline with eyelet embroidery around the skirt.

On my feet, are gold leather braided sandals.

Sarah had insisted on this dress in case I was invited out for drinks, much to my protestation.

I had argued at first, saying I would just be attending meetings and doing a few solo excursions—how incredibly wrong I had been.

I fired off a bathroom selfie to her a few minutes ago, thanking her for always thinking ahead and asking for makeup tips. But I haven’t gotten a response.

I finally decide on a braided updo and natural face and rush down to the lobby. I’m out of breath by the time I get to the front doors and see Sophia, with a sleek silver sedan this time.

“Good evening, Miss Jenni. You are looking beautiful tonight,” Sophia says.

“Thank you. Have you seen Ana?” I reach for my phone in my purse to check the time, and it starts ringing in my hand.

I’m sure it’s Sarah wanting to know where, and with whom, I’m wearing the dress.

Instead of an old photo of Sarah and me in ski goggles making goofy faces, my phone reads: “Amber – Aspen Sky.”

Crap . She probably wants more details about the meetings with Niko. I can’t answer her call now, though. Not when I’m about to head to dinner and have nothing concrete to tell her. I silence the call and zip my bag closed once it’s inside.

“There she is,” Sophia says. I look up just as Ana steps through the lobby doors, absolutely glowing. She wraps me in a giant hug.

“Darling, you look amazing!” she sings. I know she’s just being kind, but I’m grateful she’s so gracious.

I much prefer it to the alternative of snooty looks some people give down their noses.

Ana takes a step back with her hands on my elbows and looks me up and down.

“Do you know what would make this outfit perfect?”

I don’t have a second to respond before she’s taking a necklace off her own neck and doing up the clasp around mine.

The necklace is made up of gold pebbles hammered in a matte finish.

The pieces are around the size of a nickel and uniquely shaped, as if done by hand, which I imagine is the case.

It hangs heavy on my chest, and I realize it might be real gold. I graze it with my fingertips.

“It’s beautiful, but I can’t wear this.” What if I lose it? Or break it?

“ You don’t deserve to wear that.” Malcolm’s voice echoes.

“Of course you can! It looks much better on you than me. Case closed. Now let’s go!”

She pulls me to the car, and the next thing I know, Sophia is dropping us off outside a restaurant and telling Ana to text her when we are ready to be picked up.

When we step through the front door, people everywhere are dressed up, drinking champagne and looking like their only care in the world is whether to order caviar or oysters.

“You don’t belong here, Jenni. Stop fooling yourself.

” Malcolm’s voice inside my head is really starting to wear on me.

But he’s right. Pretending to fit in is getting exhausting, but I only have to get through one more week.

The board meeting is a week from tomorrow.

Once I get this deal signed, I can go home and move on.

Hopefully one step closer to my old life.

At our table, I pick up my menu and panic when I realize it’s entirely in Greek, with no pictures. My throat constricts. “Um … what do you recommend? Everything looks so good.”

Ana gives me a sly look. “You don’t know any Greek, do you?”

I sheepishly shake my head with a shrug. “No, not really. I couldn’t get past basic greetings on my language app.”

She laughs, placing a hand on her stomach. “I love it! Don’t worry. I’ll order for both of us. You’re going to love the fish.”

When the food comes out, our matching dishes are steaming and sizzling.

The waiter sets the plate in front of me, and I am overwhelmed by the savory aroma.

The white fish is covered in a rich, creamy tomato sauce overtop a bed of potatoes flaked with salt and seasonings. I can smell hints of onion and paprika.

Ana picks up one of the lemon wedges on her plate and motions for me to do the same. “You need to squeeze lemon juice all over it. It brings the flavors together.”

I take the lemon wedge from my plate and use a fork to douse the fish with its juice. I gingerly wipe the juice off my fingers with the linen napkin in my lap. When I look up again, Ana has her lemon wedge in her mouth, sucking the last bits of juice out and making a sour face to prove it.

“Sorry,” she says through pursed lips. “I’m worse than a child. I just love lemon! ”

Okay, I kind of love this woman. She really has no pretense. But then again, if I looked and sounded like her, maybe I would stick a lemon wedge in my mouth without a care too.

I delicately cut a bite of fish and bring the steaming fork to my mouth. It tastes like pure magic. If this is the type of traditional fare Niko is trying to bring back to his restaurant, I can see why.

“This is amazing,” I say, covering my mouth. “You were right!”

We make it through almost all our food while Ana tells me stories about growing up in Athens and how happy she and her sister were every summer when Niko would arrive.

“We were three peas in a pod—running through the gardens, playing soccer on the beach. I always looked forward to it.” Ana wipes her mouth with her napkin and fiddles with her bracelet before taking a sip of white wine.

“I love your bracelet. I noticed it at the beach the other day,” I say, taking a break from my own meal to sip my wine. “Does it mean something?”

She glances at her wrist and runs her fingers over the two hearts. Her eyes look sad, which sends a brick to the pit of my stomach.

“It … I wear it to remember my sister. Callie.”

The brick leaves my stomach to land at my feet.

I’m about to apologize and change the subject, but Ana continues, barely looking in my direction.

Instead, she stares at her drink, swirling it in her hand.

“We were best friends growing up. But we grew apart, or were forced apart, really, and she passed away a couple of years ago.”

My throat feels swollen, like I can’t swallow. How awful. “I’m so sorry, Ana. Truly. Do you want to talk about it?”

A pained expression crosses her face, but she continues.

“Callie started dating an older man from Italy. At first, he spoiled her like crazy and she seemed so happy. He ended up having a controlling streak. He cut her off from family and friends. I would go weeks without hearing from her in between quick calls that always came from a different phone number.”

Her words are all too familiar. Of course, I was never the trophy girlfriend, but I know what it’s like to be love-bombed and then treated well only when it’s convenient and self-serving.

Malcolm cut me off from all my friends, too.

At first, it was subtle. He would make small comments about a friend being weird or rude toward him and leave it at that.

Then, when any of my friends wanted a girls’ night or to travel together, he would act like I was abandoning him or that they were purposely trying to pull us apart.

Once I got away and learned more about manipulative relationships, I realized it was absolutely formulaic.

I hadn’t talked to Piper in months by the time we broke up.

When I finally called her, I sobbed while repeatedly apologizing.

She immediately welcomed me back into her life with open arms. I don’t think I would have survived if she hadn’t.

I reach across the table, grab Ana’s hand, and give it a gentle squeeze.

“I still remember the first time I noticed a bruise when we were on video. I asked Callie about it, and she immediately made an excuse about needing to hang up, and we didn’t talk for a month.”

I am starting to feel sick. But I have to let Ana tell her sister’s story.

“He used to take her on these vacations and then just leave her there if he got tired of her,” Ana said. “She’d have to find her own way home. But she couldn’t call Papa because her boyfriend had already put up such a wall between all of us. She knew if she did, it would only make things worse.”

What remains of our food has gone cold, so the waiter collects our plates and refills our glasses .

“Did she leave him?”

“He took her to South America a few years ago.

She called me one night after a big fight.

She was ready to leave him and begged me to ask Papa to get her out.

She was too afraid to leave on her own and wanted us to send someone to retrieve her.

Before we could arrange it, there was an accident.

They were both killed in a car crash, except there were no other cars involved.

“The police never figured out how he lost control of the vehicle, but I’ve always known it had to be his rage. They must have been fighting, and his anger distracted him from the road. I’ll never forgive myself for not getting to her sooner.”

My heart is breaking into a million pieces like a glass vase dropped onto a tile floor. Callie didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve any of it. No woman does. I want to speak, but there’s a burning lump in my throat. I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll lose all of my composure.

“That’s why I always wear this bracelet she gave me. I don’t want to ever forget her. I just wish I had done more over the years. I feel like I failed her.”