Page 24 of Footprints in the Sand (Coleman #13)

Chapter Twenty-One

I t was in the chaos of that late afternoon after Finn left that Dimitra heard from Oriana.

ORIANA: William’s yacht just pulled into the harbor. He wants us to join him tomorrow night for a party.

Dimitra didn’t know what to say and didn’t respond right away. Oriana double-texted, needing Dimitra to echo her excitement.

ORIANA: It’s so exciting! He’s here! And he’s brought buckets of champagne! Let’s celebrate!

Dimitra bristled. She didn’t feel emotionally ready to go to some uber-wealthy person’s party, not so soon after meeting Finn and hearing about Harry’s emotionally difficult life, about Ginny and his ex-wife, and all the responsibilities that awaited him.

Then again, Dimitra owed it to Oriana to attend the party, and she owed it to herself to put herself in a position to make more money, to set herself up for the future.

Her art was finally getting the recognition she’d always longed for.

She didn’t know if she deserved it, but it was here. She couldn’t throw it away.

That evening, Harry spent time on his sailboat while Dimitra stayed home, watching a romcom and eating popcorn and trying to go to bed early.

Ultimately, she tossed and turned, worrying about both Eva and her own future.

When she knew it was morning in Paros, she dialed Eva’s number, but nobody picked up. Her heart pounded. Where was that girl?

She called her sister instead. Athena answered, as she always did, with an annoyed tone. “There she is. The sister who abandoned me.”

Dimitra rolled her eyes. “How are you?”

“Alone. Alienated. Worried about you.”

“Great answers,” Dimitra said. “Any others to add?”

“Annoyed.”

Dimitra laughed, missing her sister despite how jagged she so often was. “And how is Eva? Have you heard anything?”

“I heard she kissed my Nico,” Athena said. “I heard she made a fool of herself.”

“Don’t you remember being that young?”

“At her age, I already had kids.” Athena scoffed.

“I didn’t,” Dimitra reminded her. “I wasn’t even married. I was all over the place, and I enjoyed myself. It was freedom. Let Eva be as free as Nico always is.”

“I don’t want Nico to be free, either.”

“But you have to admit, people are much harder on men than women,” Dimitra said.

Athena groaned. “I wouldn’t have answered the phone if I’d known this was going to be a lecture.”

Dimitra laughed and pestered Athena for more island gossip. They talked deep into the morning, until Athena admitted she had to go. They said they loved each other. They always would, no matter how much they annoyed one another, no matter if Dimitra ran as far away as she could.

That night, Dimitra put on her most expensive new dress—an Alexander McQueen gown with a turtleneck top and a sophisticated pattern. It was swanky and sultry and, according to Meghan and Oriana, made her look mysterious and foreign.

“I am foreign,” Dimitra reminded them with a laugh.

“Then I guess the dress is working!” Meghan said.

Together, they drove over to the harbor and parked not far from William Cottrill’s massive yacht.

Dimitra remembered how much she’d detested yacht people around Paros, how they’d come in to flaunt their money and their English accents and then leave a stream of oil in the water behind them.

Now, she was joining them? It didn’t feel right.

Kostos would have leaped at the chance to own a yacht, she knew. Do it for your husband , she told herself. But it didn’t feel powerful at all.

Before they got out of the car, Dimitra checked her phone to find a message from Harry, inviting her out for a glass of wine later that night.

All Dimitra wanted was to rip her way out of this expensive dress, put on a loose island dress, and join him and Cash.

But she texted back that she couldn’t. See you soon? He said okay.

But “soon” felt like such a difficult word with them. Harry would be back in South Carolina soon, and Dimitra would be back in Greece, and this gorgeous time between them would be no more. Enjoy it while it’s here , she reminded herself.

A speaker system on the yacht played an electro mix that made Dimitra think of sophisticated European clubs.

When they entered, someone in a white tux greeted her by name and handed her a flute of champagne.

She walked slowly behind Oriana, joining a group of elite Martha’s Vineyard vacationers, most of whom already knew Oriana.

By contrast, Meghan was nervous, whispering in Dimitra’s ear about how out of place she felt.

“I need to stop saying yes to these things,” she said.

“Don’t be silly,” Dimitra told her. “I need you here!”

Meghan smiled, and the two traced their way to the edge of the boat, where they stood and watched the sunset for a little while. Dimitra wondered how much of Eva’s current situation Meghan knew about but didn’t want to tattle on Eva.

“How’s our girl doing in Greece?” Dimitra asked instead.

Meghan furrowed her brow. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her in a few days. I think she said something about going to Naxos with that marble carver. I worry.”

“Naxos is a gorgeous island filled with wonderful people,” Dimitra assured her. “I’m sure she’s having the time of her life.”

She hoped the trip to Naxos explained why Eva wasn’t answering her phone.

“Finn keeps trying to contact me,” Meghan said. “It’s horrible to ignore him because he really was part of the family. For years and years, I thought he’d be the father of my grandchildren. But I can’t take it. He was horrible to my baby girl. Whatever he did, he chased her out of the country.”

Meghan still didn’t know how much money Finn had lost Eva, but she seemed to know it was a life-changing amount.

“You know, I married a man who wasn’t kind when it came to money,” Dimitra said thoughtfully. “It’s something I’ve had to come to terms with. I think it was a level of abuse that I didn’t really fathom because it wasn’t like he was hitting me with his fists.”

Meghan blinked. “Are you saying that Finn abused Eva?”

“Not physically,” Dimitra said. “But there are all kinds of ways to show a lack of respect. There are various ways to knock a person down several pegs. Maybe Finn thought he was ‘helping’ Eva, but he was showing her what kind of man he is. I think it’s good, in the long run.”

Meghan took a deep breath and steadied herself against the railing. “You are very wise, Dimitra. I have really enjoyed knowing you. I’ll miss you when you go.”

Implied in what she was saying, of course, was that Dimitra needed to go so that Eva could come back. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, too,” she said to Meghan.

But she was surprised to realize she’d begun thinking of Paros as a place she didn’t really want to return to. She wondered what had changed.

There was a tap on Dimitra’s shoulder. She turned to find Oriana beaming, telling her that William wanted Dimitra to join him on the top deck.

According to Oriana, it was where William’s wealthiest friends were drinking together, talking about their most recent art acquisitions and what they wanted to buy next.

Dimitra suddenly saw herself as a part of their twisted games of “collecting.” Her work was reminiscent of Ancient Greek artifacts.

It was just another thing to obtain and forget about.

But Dimitra followed Oriana upstairs to William’s “lair,” where he sat with a burnt-orange cocktail and his ankle on his opposite knee.

He beamed as she approached, clearly liking what he saw.

Was it the dress? The way Dimitra walked, undulating her hips?

Was she performing for him? She stopped walking and cursed herself.

She’d wanted this man to like her, she guessed, but she couldn’t remember why any longer.

William’s friends were in their fifties, sixties, and seventies, wearing linen and white outfits that probably cost upward of two hundred thousand.

“This is the immaculate Greek artist I’ve been telling you all about,” William said. “Dimitra Aetos. I discovered her.”

Dimitra glanced at Oriana, annoyed, wondering why Oriana didn’t get the credit for “discovering” Dimitra.

“I didn’t realize I was waiting to be discovered,” Dimitra said, unable to resist a bit of snark. “I’ve always known about myself.”

William erupted with laughter. “I should have told you, she’s a spitfire. Dimitra, sit with us. Please. Someone get the lady a drink.”

A bartender approached a moment later with the same cocktail that William was drinking.

It was bitter and tinged with orange flavoring.

She clinked glasses with William and his friends Roger, Steven, Calvin, and Fred.

They gazed at her with interest, like she was prey they wanted to collect for themselves.

Let them think what they want to think , Dimitra told herself.

Don’t make anyone angry. Take their money and run.

To Dimitra’s surprise, Oriana wasn’t welcome in the group upstairs. After a brief round of hellos, she returned downstairs, giving Dimitra a final smile before she disappeared. Dimitra was frightened.

“Tell us, Dimitra, how are you finding your time in the United States?” Fred asked, twirling his mustache.

“It’s certainly been life-changing,” Dimitra said, eyeing William, the person who’d changed everything for her. He knew it, too. He was proud.

“You’re living the American dream already,” Roger said. “You’ve been here, what? A month?”

“Six weeks, maybe,” she said.

“And how long do you plan to stay?” Calvin asked.

“She can’t very well go back to that place,” Roger said.

“It’s like a third-world country!” Calvin agreed.

Dimitra flared her nostrils. “Since when is Greece a third-world country?”

“Everyone, let’s give it a rest,” William said, his eyes sparkling. It was clear he didn’t want to “give it a rest.” “We all love Greece, don’t we? Roger, you especially.”

Dimitra looked at Roger incredulously. “Why do you say that?”