Page 88 of Holding Out for a Gyro
She picked up her phone and started typing frantically, like her life depended on knowing this bit of trivia. “Hmm. Undetermined spot on the French Riviera.” More typing. “More likely in Cap d’Antibes, according to this blog.”
Her phone settled, she opened her book, but she seemed unusually distracted, chattering about Zelda Fitzgerald, pondering aloud whether the wordcapin fact meantcape, and asking if we should add some lavender farm in Kentucky she’d discovered to our list for this year.
I hadn’t even thought of our new list. I was completely agnostic about it. “Yeah, maybe.”
Apropos of nothing, she said, “We’ve been friends a long time, right?”
I brushed some sand off my towel, terrified it would make its way into my ass. “Yeah.”
“Remember that time you fucked me over so hard by making me tell lies to a guy I ended up falling in love with? Remember when you lied to get me to go on a picnic with that same guy?”
I coughed. Where was this coming from? “The ends justify the means, E.”
“Just remember that, okay?”
I cast a glance at her, scrunching up my face. “Whatever. You’re so weird.”
“I love you.” She winced like she was sorry for something. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.
“Uh. Okay. I love you, too.” Did I need to clarify that it was unconditional? I felt like she was about to confess she’d sent my letters to my parents, or worse, maybe she’d signed us up for hang-gliding.
Her gaze shifted beyond me, and she shaded her eyes against the glare of the low-hanging sun. I squinted in the same direction, but the only thing I could make out was some guy walking along the beach, a halo of radiant light framing him from behind. “So much for our secret spot.”
Elizabeth waved her arm overhead, and the man veered away from the water toward us. As he neared us, she called, “I thought you’d never get here.”
And then I realized who it was. Bas.
I jumped up and ran for him. His smile lit up his whole face. My brain couldn’t begin to explain why he was here. “How?”
“I flew over from Athens. You were right. It was only a couple of hours.”
He looked so gorgeous in his half-buttoned white linen shirt and tan trousers, like some fictional man of wealth and mystery. He laughed as he lifted me in his embrace, and I breathed in the familiar smell of him. If Elizabeth wasn’t standing a few feet away, hooting with glee, I might have forgotten myself and kissed him. When he set me down, and I drank my fill of his beloved face, I nearly did anyway.
“Are you staying with us? We’re only here until Saturday.” God, the idea of spending even two days lying on the beach with him was so delicious, I suddenly felt high.
“Um,” Elizabeth broke in. “Surprise! We thought we’d give you some options.”
“Options?” What the hell was going on? I stood there, blinking like an idiot, waiting for someone to explain.
“You can go home with me, or—” She side-eyed Bas.
“Or—” he continued, and it dawned on me this was a coordinated effort. “I rented a car.”
I glanced between them, confounded. “And if I get in the car?”
“Well, you don’t have a job to go home to, right?”
I didn’t. I’d taken an extended leave from the coffee shop, and my laptop had all my graphic design work on it. “Um, no, but I have airline tickets from Paris.”
“They’re refundable. Like I said”—Elizabeth tapped her temple, birthplace of genius—“options.”
Bas waved back the way he’d come. “If you’re game, I thought we could drive to Nice tonight.”
My heart exploded in mini heart butterflies. I’d get to see Nice after all. “And then?”
“I have at least a week to drive to Athens. You tell me where you want to go.”
I worked my jaw silently for a few seconds, speechless. “But Elizabeth—”
