Page 15 of Footprints in the Sand (Coleman #13)

Chapter Fourteen

I t had been three weeks since Eva’s arrival on Paros Island and a little more than two since she lost her job. Everything about her life had shifted. Maybe it was a good thing. Perhaps the only way to grow was to till the soil of everything left behind.

Miraculously, Eva had fallen into a nice, easy rhythm of swimming, eating seafood, going for hikes, drinking wine with Aphrodite, and doing social media for Jean-Paul’s marble workshop.

Since he’d hired her, his marble workshop attendance had more than tripled, with tourists coming from Parikia and Naoussa to spend hours working with slightly dangerous machinery.

Nobody had been hurt. What they made—bowls, plates, jewelry, and little sculptures—was often posted to social media, and Eva loved seeing what everyone came up with (especially because it was often just as bad as what she’d made that first day).

Jean-Paul was very pleased. He was making more than he ever had.

The first week of July, Jean-Paul drove to Aliki to pay Eva for the work she’d done so far. It was an all-cash payment, tucked away in an envelope. Eva burst out laughing when she saw all the euros in a stack. She felt like she’d done something illegal for him.

“Is there a problem?” Jean-Paul asked, his brow furrowed as he stood on Dimitra’s front stoop.

“There’s no problem,” Eva said. “Thank you for the payment.”

Internally, she thought, I need to get a real job soon.

This is not sustainable. But she’d decided to live out the rest of the summer like this, enjoying herself and thinking.

It was the most reckless she’d felt in her whole life.

She’d come to no new conclusions, not about Finn, nor about her career, nor about any “artistic practice” she might want to do.

When she got back to Martha’s Vineyard, she’d probably get another internet job and pick back up on her old life.

Her old life, minus Finn. Her old life, minus love and a future.

Since that first day at the marble workshop, she’d also thought a lot about what Jean-Paul had said about Kostos, Dimitra’s dead husband.

But any time she brought up Kostos with any villagers, they refused to talk about it, or they said what a tragedy it was that Kostos had died so young and left Dimitra alone, without children.

(People were really fixated on the fact that Dimitra hadn’t had children, which frightened Eva.

She was only twenty-eight, but she had to find a whole new partner, spend years with him to determine if she wanted to marry him, and then eventually get married and have children. It felt like so much work.)

It was the Fourth of July. Aphrodite was busy cleaning a few Airbnbs for tourists, while Eva read at the beach and monitored a social media campaign for Jean-Paul.

Mostly, she was sad because she would be missing the family’s Fourth of July barbecue at Estelle and Roland’s place. She wanted to be there.

But then Nico texted her out of nowhere, telling her it had been too long since they’d hung out. He wanted to take her sailing. He wanted to show her around the island in the best possible way—by sea.

EVA: Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever.

NICO: I’ve been working, but now I want to celebrate. Meet me at the harbor at two?

Eva agreed because she didn’t know what else to do.

Plus, she’d thought Nico had been avoiding her, and the fact that he’d initially been so interested in her and then backed away gnawed at her.

What could she say? She was an inexperienced dater.

Maybe I deserve a little fling? she thought for the first time.

But then she panged, thinking of Jean-Paul alone in his studio.

Had she already—accidentally—given Jean-Paul her heart?

Don’t be ridiculous, Eva , she reprimanded herself. Jean-Paul had given her no indication that he was falling in love with her, nor that he even thought of her outside of a business relationship.

At two ten, Eva and Nico sailed out from the Aliki harbor and into the open turquoise waters between Anti-Paros and Paros Islands.

Nico played music on a small speaker and sang along, moving easily around the boat.

They sailed for about fifteen minutes before they reached a place called The Blue Lagoon—an area of absolutely stunning water between two small and rocky islands.

Nico dropped the anchor, took off his shirt, and leaped into the water.

Eva laughed and peered over at him, where he floated and smiled up at her. It felt like a dream.

“Come on!” Nico called. “The water’s fine!”

Eva stepped back to pull her dress off, revealing the bikini beneath.

The first time she’d worn this particular suit had been two years ago in Italy with Finn, and he’d been nervous, asking her to cover up if she wore the suit by itself for too long.

Had he been a prude? Or just possessive over her?

She didn’t know. She’d dismissed it at the time, happy to make Finn happy.

She leaped into the water after Nico and emerged laughing. His eyes danced.

“I like your suit,” he said.

She thanked him. They circled one another, catching one another’s eyes frequently. Eva felt like someone else—a more adventurous woman eager to take on the world. What had changed?

“How is it working with Jean-Paul?” Nico asked. If Eva wasn’t mistaken, she thought she caught a hint of jealousy in his tone.

“It’s nice,” she said. “He really needed help.”

“Aphrodite says that you turned his business around,” Nico said. “You could probably help a lot of people in Aliki. Tourists want to make the most of the island, but I don’t know if all the villagers know what to make of them. There’s money to be made, but not everyone knows how to find it.”

Eva treaded water slowly, sweeping her hands back and forth. “Do you really want the village to be swarming with tourists?”

Nico raised his shoulders out of the water. “You’re from a touristy place, no? You know what it’s like. We have to make money where we can.”

Eva said she understood.

“Jean-Paul is handsome, yes?” Nico asked, pushing her a little bit.

“I don’t know. I guess so,” Eva lied.

“You guess?”

Eva shrugged.

“He came to the island to be alone,” Nico said. “He isn’t Greek. He doesn’t have a sense of our community. He would just be in his marble workshop all the time, avoiding the world if he could.”

“But he knows your sister pretty well,” Eva said.

“He knows all the women,” Nico said playfully. “That’s true.”

Eva wasn’t sure how to read him. A moment later, he swam to the ladder and pulled himself back on board. Eva followed him, sitting aboard and watching as he grabbed a bottle of wine from a cooler and filled two glasses.

“It’s the Fourth of July,” Eva said, raising her glass to his.

“Ah. I’m sorry, I don’t have any fireworks for us,” Nico said. He sat down on a cushion and patted the seat beside him.

Eva wondered why he’d pestered her about Jean-Paul and decided he was jealous. She sat down beside him and took a sip of wine. “What kind of work were you doing the past few weeks?” she asked.

“Did you miss me while I was gone?” he asked.

Eva laughed. He was so presumptuous. It was annoying and alluring at once.

“I do odd jobs for people all over the island,” Nico explained. “I go where I’m needed. Now that you’ve lost your job, I suppose you get it. You will do whatever you have to do to survive.”

Eva tilted her head. “Like home improvement stuff? Deliveries? What kind of stuff?”

Nico raised his eyebrows. “You’re curious.”

“I’m just trying to get a better picture of your life,” she said.

“Why are you so interested in me?” he asked.

Eva laughed nervously, flirtatiously. “I mean, of course I’m interested in you. I’m interested in who you are, what you’re about. We’re becoming friends. Aren’t we?”

“I’d like to think so,” Nico said, shifting gently closer to her.

Eva’s heart began to pound. The bright turquoise water, Nico’s penetrating gaze, and the sun above felt almost like too much. She reached for her water bottle and felt beads of sweat form on her upper lip.

She knew that she’d used the word “friend” as a hint to him that she didn’t really care about him. But she knew he saw the word “friend” as a challenge to prove they were something else.

Were they something else? Could they be?

Suddenly, Nico’s face was closer to hers than it had ever been, and he whispered, “Can I kiss you, Eva?”

Eva’s stomach tightened into knots. Forcing her eyes back into his, she willed herself not to be frightened. She willed herself to open her heart to change.

“Okay,” she said.

The kiss that came next was better than any Fourth of July fireworks. It made Eva weak at the knees. Nico’s arms were around her, and he was kissing her gently, making her feel as though she were melting like butter on a hot summer day.

They kissed for ten minutes, for a half hour, for nearly forty-five minutes. They kissed as though they were teenagers who’d just discovered what kissing was.

When they came up for air, Nico picked her up and threw her overboard.

Eva laughed wildly until she plunged into the turquoise blue, staying under the surface for longer than was necessary, opening her eyes briefly to see the boat from below.

When she came up for air, her eyes stung from the salt, and she lay on her back on the sailboat and watched the clouds flicker across the sky.

Nico swam for a while and then cut some fruit, cheeses, and baguettes for a beautiful snack. He refilled their glasses of wine.

Eva wondered how often he did this with other women, then decided she didn’t care. It was her turn to feel this good.

Later, Eva wouldn’t remember why she asked him what she did next.

“Do you know why Jean-Paul doesn’t like Kostos? Or didn’t like him.”

Immediately, the air on the boat shifted and became tense. Eva got up on her elbows and looked over at Nico, who was scowling.