Page 32 of The Summer Show

“I do not know either because I am new, but I bet it is at least some of them. Last season there was a man who looked like a jellyfish, and my Effie told me that he was always crying for his mama.”

I had given up crying for my mother decades ago, because when I did she was never there unless she was trying to sell me supplements or convert me to the religion of the week.

“Can I see the contract?”

She licked her fingers and clacked over to the desk, where a stack of white forms sat waiting on signatures. She peeled one off the top and handed it to me.

“It’s in Greek,” I said.

She threw her hands in the air. “Because we are in Greece, the land of the gods!”

“Can I take it with me and get someone to interpret before I sign?”

“Of course! By the time you get back the dolmades will be ready.” She kissed me on both cheeks, leaving wet patches and exfoliating my face with her whiskers.

* * *

In a stupor, and struggling to push my chickens into a semi-tidy row, I returned to Nick’s room and knocked on his door.

Was I nuts? What I required was an interpreter. Someone who could read the contract and spell it out for me in English. For that I didn’t need Nick. Reception was overflowing with employees who spoke perfect English. Ana was a phone call away. Thanos and Lina, too.

But no.

I can only surmise that it was my hormones that marched me to Nick’s door. They wanted to ogle his muscles again.

Admittedly, there was a large part of me—skin, mostly—that wasn’t ready to plunge my body into the professional grade oven that was Nera, either. But mostly it was Nick’s abs that kept me in the hotel.

I wasn’t usually this shallow.

Probably I should run. Flee the building and never return. Let him think someone was pranking him.

The door opened and Nick was right there, in his grey sweatpants and no shirt. No chance I could make a clean getaway now. I was stuck.

“You’ve got a key,” he said.

“What if you were naked?”

“It’s not like you haven’t already seen it.”

My face went up in flames. He wasn’t wrong, I had seen it all. My eyes had been treated to parts of Nick that he probably couldn’t see unless he was standing in front of a mirror.

And it was glorious. All of it. Really, whatever he did it was working. That said, I didn’t want to surprise him. Or myself.

“What if you were …”

“What?”

“With a woman. Or not with a woman. You know.” Shut up, Kathleen. Just shut up. “Or with a man, if you like men as well.”

“I’m straight,” he said,” and I gave up casual sex a long time ago.”

“I mean that’s your business but …” I held up the contract. “Help?”

He pushed his hand through his hair and tilted his head at the desk. “Let me guess, it’s all Greek to you.”

“Exactly. Wait—what do Greeks say? Obviously words being all Greek to them is a good thing.”

“You’re speaking Chinese,” he said.