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well-intentioned as it may be.”
    Thea sighed. Nick hoped that was a sign that the matter would be dropped, at least for now. Unfortunately, his grandmother wasn’t done.
    â€œWho is this woman you have invited to your brother’s wedding? When did this happen? You have not mentioned her before.”
    Since nothing had actually happened yet and very well might never, Nick decided to answer Yiayia’s other question first. “You do not know her. She is an American.”
    â€œAmerican.” His grandmother put a hand to her chest and frowned.
    â€œIt is not a disease, you know.” He chuckled, hoping both to lighten the mood and to divert the conversation. Neither woman cracked a smile, however.
    â€œYou know her from New York?” Thea asked.
    â€œActually, I met Darcie in Greece.” Which wasn’t a lie. He saw no need to mention when or where.
    â€œDarcie. What kind of a name is Darcie?” Yiayia’s frown deepened. “It does not sound like a Greek name.”
    His mother had other concerns. “Does she live in Athens?”
    â€œNo. She came here on holiday.”
    When his conscience bucked, he rationalized that he wasn’t lying to his mother and grandmother. He was merely offering a selective version of the truth.
    â€œWhat does she do for a living?” Yiayia inquired.
    â€œShe works at a car magazine.” Beyond that, Nick knew precious little about Darcie Hayes other than the fact that he found her very attractive. At the moment, he also found her his ticket out of a tight spot. “I tell you what. I will bring her by some time and you can ask her all of these questions yourselves.”
    He thought he was off the hook, or at the very least had delayed his day of reckoning. Yiayia dispelled that notion.
    â€œGood. I will set an extra plate for supper.”
    â€œS-supper?” he sputtered. “Tonight?”
    â€œWe will eat at seven.”
    â€œCome early,” his mother added with an eager smile that sent his insides churning.
    What had he gotten himself into?
    * * *
    Darcie had forced herself to stay awake until 9:00 p.m. the previous evening. She’d called Becky as promised and explained about her changed itinerary, after which she had collapsed face-first on the bed and slept like the dead. When she awoke just before ten o’clock the following morning she had a deep crease from the sheets across her right cheek, but after nearly thirteen hours of uninterrupted slumber she felt almost human. She also was starving again.
    If the tour had panned out as advertised, she already would have enjoyed a buffet breakfast with her fellow travelers and been boarding an air-conditioned motor coach headed for the Parthenon on the Acropolis. She showered and dressed, donning tan shorts and a fitted white T-shirt before lacing up a pair of sneakers. For one moment she allowed herself to picture the floral sundress and new sandals in her missing luggage. Shaking off her wistfulness, she headed for the door, eager to leave the hotel and start exploring. The day before, she’d been too exhausted to do more than walk up the block from the hotel to a small market that the concierge had recommended. She’d bought bread and fresh fruit. Today, she was in the mood for a real meal and ancient ruins.
    It came as a total surprise when the first sight to greet her when she entered the lobby was Nick Costas striding purposefully through the main door. He broke into a smile that made her knees weak. It buoyed her ego that he appeared so pleased to see her.
    â€œDarcie. Excellent. You are still here.”
    â€œHello, Nick. Is something wrong?”
    â€œWrong?” He shook his head. “Not at all.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “Why do I sense a but coming?”
    â€œBecause you are too perceptive.” He laughed. “You were on your way out.”
    â€œYes. To eat.”
    â€œMay I join you?”
    â€œOkay. I