Page 41 of Accidental Getaway

Ten days later, I am sitting in the kitchen of the Omorfiá Hotel with my laptop open on the stainless-steel workspace. It’s after hours, but Niko and I are making a cake, and I’m catching up on some admin work for Amber while he mixes.

“You can’t leave tomorrow without a taste of my grandma’s portokalopita. It’s a must.”

I believe it. I’m pretty sure I’ve gained ten pounds since I arrived in Greece almost three weeks ago. And every single ounce was worth it.

“I can’t believe you’re smart, generous, sexy, and you can cook. I mean, give the men of the world a break, won’t you? They’ll never be able to keep up.” I wink at him over my laptop screen.

“I never said I was a good cook. I said I would try to make it. I make no promises it will turn out.”

I finish the last of my notes for next week’s staff meeting and close the computer. I stand and go to join Niko, where he has just pulled a tray out of the oven with shredded phyllo dough on it .

“Isn’t this supposed to be like a crust or wrap? It’s the same thing as the baklava, right?”

Niko bops my nose with a flour-dusted finger. “Very clever, young padawan. But in this recipe, you shred it and bake it into the batter. It adds texture to the cake.”

“What’s a padawan?”

“Are you serious?” Niko eyes me. “ Star Wars ? Yoda? None of that rings a bell?”

I laugh. He can’t be that serious. “No. I don’t remember the last time I watched a Star Wars movie. Maybe never?”

Niko clutches his chest as if I’ve stabbed him. “This is a tragedy. I’m just now finding this out? How has this not come up in all this time we have been connected at the hip?”

It’s true. Niko hasn’t let me out of his sight since the board meeting.

Each day, we’ve spent a few hours doing the bare minimum of our respective work—Niko pulled an extra desk into his office for me—and then exploring the island, eating at all the best restaurants, and spending our nights together.

It’s been one of the most exhilarating times of my entire life.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe because we were having too much fun having a life?”

I stick my tongue out at him. His jaw drops clear to the floor. “How dare you make fun of Star Wars .”

Niko lunges toward me and I run to escape his grasp because I know what’s coming. I’m too late, though. His hands wrap around my waist, tickling me. He won’t stop until I give in or distract him with a kiss. I choose the second option.

His mouth tastes like oranges, citrusy and sweet. “You were sneaking orange slices from the cake, were you?”

“I plead the fifth.” He kisses me again. “Are you done with work? Want to help with the rest of the cake?”

“Put me in, coach!” We move as one back to the cooking space .

“Will you make the syrup?” he asks, before handing me the recipe.

That I can handle.

“I forgot how much I enjoy cooking,” I say, as I pour sugar into a simmer pot. “I used to cook a lot with my mom.” I smile, remembering all the times we made peach cobbler after visiting a u-pick farm in Palisades.

Niko is cutting oranges and removing the seeds before tossing them in the food processor. “Oh, yeah? Why’d you stop?”

I don’t want to think about it too hard, but if I were to guess, Malcolm said something at one time or another that made me feel it was an undesirable hobby. He would only ever want to eat out at the hippest places.

“Who knows? It doesn’t matter now.”

A few nights ago, I called my parents to check on them after their camping trip.

My mom got teary when I told her everything that had transpired on the trip—the important things about getting the job and that met someone.

When I asked her what was wrong, she smiled and said, “I am just so proud of you. I have always been afraid I gave you too much of my worry gene and that it was going to keep you from being happy. It just makes me so happy to see you so confident. My old Jenni is back.”

The admission had shocked me. I didn’t know she felt that way. But maybe we can both work on worrying a bit less and trusting a bit more. I told her I loved her and that I couldn’t wait to catch up when I get home.

Niko brings my attention back to the kitchen. He’s chopping pistachios and almonds into tiny pieces.

“What are you working on over there?”

“This is my yia-yia’s special ingredient. Most portokalopita cakes just have orange slices on top, but we always add nuts for a bit of salt and texture. ”

Sounds delicious.

“And don’t think you’re safe from the Star Wars conversation. I’ve decided this will be what keeps us busy until we see each other again. We’ll watch the whole catalog start to finish and discuss.”

“I’d like that.” My heart warms at making plans for the future with Niko. As I look around the kitchen, with a new job, and a future with this man I have fallen for, I am unabashedly happy.

But getting the promotion isn’t the happy ending.

Niko isn’t either, no matter where our relationship goes.

How I feel—at home in my own skin—is the happy ending.

It doesn’t change anything that Malcolm did to me, but I know I can mourn what happened to me while also celebrating the new life I have in front of me.

Who I was then doesn’t have to be who I always am. He doesn’t get to hold that control over me anymore. I get to decide what I want for my life. I’m not going to let anyone take that away from me again.

I finish with the syrup and set it aside to cool.

Niko pours the cake batter into a round pan. “Want to do the honors?” he asks, holding out the plate of orange slices.

“I do!” I smile. He brings them over and stands behind me, hands on my hips. “You want to lay the slices around the pan, however you want. They are supposed to add a bit of tanginess, but are mostly decorative.”

“So here?” I say, placing a half slice at the edge of the cake, gently dropping it onto the batter.

“Yes, and the next one can go here.” He guides my hand and places the next slice. We lay all of the slices on the cake and then put it in the oven.

Niko pulls me into the restaurant and onto his lap at one of the tables .

“Well, now that we are going all-in on the new changes to the hotel, what other ideas do you have?”

“That’s what you want to talk about? Now?” I lean in for a kiss, not wanting to spend my last night with him talking about work.

He eases me back. “I do. I think your ideas are incredible, and I want to hear them. Once you leave, I’m going to need a passion project to keep me from crawling to Colorado to see you before Christmas.”

Niko has already booked a flight to visit me in Colorado for Christmas.

Piper and Sarah are hoping to have the inn reopened by then and have promised to let us be their first guests.

I have already started looking for apartments I can rent in Pineview Springs or maybe the next town down the mountain.

It’s the first step to taking control of this new life.

“Well, off the top of my head, I can think of one or two things for you to do.”

“I knew you would.” Niko squeezes my thigh.

“In addition to your garden on the rooftop, you could put in a bee colony and plant native wildflowers around the entire property for pollination. The bees would help the island ecosystem and you could sell the honey in local markets and as souvenirs at some point. You could partner with a local beekeeper.”

He laughs and nuzzles my shoulder.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m just imagining Alexander in one of those beekeeping uniforms. What are they called?”

“A bee suit?”

“Huh.” He shakes his head. “They should really have a fun name for those. Bee suit is very anticlimactic.”

“Oh, my gosh, you are so ridiculous sometimes. Focus!”

“Yes, ma’am.” I drape my arm over his shoulder, running my fingers through the hair at the back of his head as we lock eyes. “What else?”

“Well, I would love to talk to Ana about hosting community events like open mic nights or cooking classes.”

“She would love that,” Niko says.

Niko and I continue to talk about our plans for the next few months while we wait.

We both want to soak up as much of each other as possible.

This week has been one of the best of my life and even though we’re going to be apart, I’m not worried.

I know that we both have really exciting things happening in our lives, and we will be there to support each other.

I’m not worried about the next life goal or whether someone approves of my choices.

For the first time—possibly ever—I feel comfortable with where my life is rather than racing to the next accomplishment to prove myself.

We hear the oven timer ding and head back into the kitchen. Niko pulls the cake out of the oven and sets it on a cooling rack. “Grab that syrup. We’re going to pour it over the cake, so it soaks into the sponge.”

I gently pour the syrup from the pot, trying to make sure I cover it evenly. “Like that?”

“Perfect. Now grab those plates and silverware.”

Niko leads me through the back of the kitchen to an outdoor, private dining area with a view of the ocean where someone has set up a candlelit table. The table is set for two with champagne and a vase full of white roses. It’s completely breathtaking.

“Niko, this is too much.”

He sets the cake down and grabs a lighter out of his pocket to light the candles. Once everything is ready, he pulls out my chair. Niko cuts a slice of the still-warm cake and puts it in front of me.

“Well, you haven’t tasted the cake yet. It could all be a disaster. ”

I highly doubt that. I take a bite to prove to him that it’s incredible. The warm spongy cake melts in my mouth. The orange and nutty flavors marry beautifully. And the syrup—it’s almost sickeningly sweet, but the tartness of the orange slices balances it out.

“That might just be the best thing I’ve eaten this entire trip. You’re spoiling me!”

He grabs my hand and pulls it toward him, placing a gentle kiss just above my knuckles.

“Everyone deserves a partner who treats them like the most important person in the room. That’s who you are to me, and I’m going to keep spoiling you until you believe you deserve it.”

He places another kiss farther up on the inside of my arm. “And then I’m going to spoil you even more.”