The Giannakis Bride(20)

"Your mother struck me as a very gentle soul, Dimitrios," Brianna said  softly, "and from the little I saw, I think it breaks her heart that  she's alienated from you."

"That's her choice."

"Perhaps, but it's a choice no woman should have to make. Is there no possibility of a reconciliation between you?"

"Not as long as my father's alive. He'd never permit it."

"Why not? Surely he must be proud of you? You're smart, successful, respected."

"Despite him, not because of him, and that's the real problem in a  nutshell, Brianna. I learned at a very early age that there are no free  lunches with my father. Sooner or later, for every so-called 'favor' he  conferred, he'd present me with a bill which was more than I was  prepared to pay. So I severed the family ties and struck out on my own."

"I'd have thought that would make him proud of you."

"Wrong, wrong, wrong, karthula mou! Certain I couldn't possibly succeed  without the almighty Mihalis Poulos to back me, he waited for me to fail  and come crawling back to him."

"Poulos? Where did Giannakis come from?"

"My maternal grandmother. I changed my name when I turned eighteen.  Anyhow, when I proved him wrong and succeeded past anything he ever  envisioned, he punished me by becoming my biggest, most ferocious  business competitor who'd strip me of every euro I own if he could."

"Obviously, he hasn't succeeded."

"Fortunately not. My brain is even more agile than his and I remain one step ahead of him at all times."

"Then you can afford to be generous and drop a vendetta which serves no purpose except to hurt your mother."

"I could." He swirled the brandy in its glass and took another mouthful. "But I won't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a proud man, Brianna," he said flatly. "I don't beg, I don't forgive easily, and I never forget."

She regarded him pensively a moment. "What about Poppy? Doesn't she deserve to know her grandparents?"

The old, familiar rage rose up, turning the brandy sour in his stomach.  "You just saw the kind of man my father is. Do you really think he gives  a rat's ass about my child?"

"He never goes to see her? Never asks about her?"

"Never."

"Your mother, either?"

He let out a bark of laughter as bitter as bile. "Haven't you heard a  word I've said, Brianna? My mother daren't even sneeze without his  say-so."

"I don't understand any of this." She slumped in her seat, the picture  of dejection. "Families are supposed to unite in times of trouble. Look  how it brought us together again."

"You have a heart, Brianna. Underneath my reputedly hard-bitten,  ruthless tycoon exterior, so do I. I can't say the same for my father."

"Even hard-bitten, ruthless tycoons are supposed to be putty in the hands of their grandchildren."

"In an ideal world, maybe. Not in mine."

She bit her lip. "No wonder you hate him."

"I don't hate him," he was quick to reply. "I refuse to expend the energy it would take. I simply ignore him."

As though to put the lie to his claim, a burst of laughter at his  parents' table rolled through the room, and glancing over, he found his  father's malevolent gaze fixed on him and Brianna. She noticed it, too,  and flinched.                       
       
           



       

Once upon a time, in his reckless youth, he'd have reacted by hurling  himself across the room and smashing his fist into that sneering face.  Now he contented himself by trading stare for stare and said evenly,  "Don't let him upset you, my darling. He's not worth it. Would you like  more coffee, or something a bit stronger to get rid of the bad taste  he's left in your mouth?"

She shook her head miserably. "If you don't mind, Dimitrios, I'd really like to get out of here."

"Of course." Reaching for her hand, he brought it to his lips. Across  the room, his father watched, his lip curled in amused disdain.

While Dimitrios signed for the meal, Brianna escaped to the ladies' room  and sank down on the bench before the mirrored vanity. Her face stared  back at her, pale and shocked.

She'd come across her fair share of jealousy and dislike over the years.  Professional sabotage, even. In the competitive, unforgiving world of  high fashion, success inevitably bred some resentment among those less  fortunate. But never had she been the target of the kind of vitriolic  loathing Mihalis Poulos had leveled at his only son.

Dimitrios was right, she decided, taking a tube of lip gloss from her  purse. The man was toxic and the less they had to do with him, the  better.

Just then the door opened and Hermione Poulos slipped into the room.  Since they were the only two women present, there was no possible way  Brianna could pretend she hadn't seen her. But nor was there any point  in lingering and making a tense situation worse, so capping her lip  gloss, she dropped it back in her purse and stood up to leave.

Hermione, though, prevented her with an urgent hand on her arm.  "Parakalo, Despinis Connelly," she practically whimpered, her big brown  eyes filled with pleading, "may I have a word?"

Loyalty to Dimitrios told Brianna she should refuse and keep going, but  short of pushing the poor woman aside, she had little choice but to  stop. "I don't see that we have anything to say to one another, Mrs.  Poulos. We certainly have nothing in common."

"We both care deeply about my son, you as the woman who is to become his wife, and I as his mother."

"I'm not sure he believes the latter."

Hermione blinked back the tears welling in her eyes. "He has told you that we are estranged?"

"I more or less figured that out for myself, but yes, he elaborated on the story. We have no secrets from each other."

"Then let me share another one with you that he might not be aware of. A  father might qualify his love for his child, but a mother's love is  unconditional and eternal. She might not always approve of the things he  does or the choices he makes, but she will always hold her child close  in her heart."

Not in my experience, Brianna thought.

"Perhaps," Hermione concluded, "one day, my dear, you will discover that for yourself."

Sympathy warring with impatience, Brianna said, "Why are you telling me this? Dimitrios is the one you should be talking to."

"I would, if he would listen, but that's not why I asked to speak with  you." Her thin, desperate fingers tightened around Brianna's arm. "Tell  me, please, how is Poppy? Will she ever be well again?"

"We're hopeful that she will, yes."

"She remains at the Rosegarth?"

"Yes."

"I wish that I could see her."

Impatience winning out over sympathy, Brianna said, "You could, if you  chose, Mrs. Poulos. All you have to do is show up. There are no bars on  her room. She's in hospital, not prison."

"Mihalis will not permit it."

"Your husband can't stop you, not if you really want to see her, so what  you're really saying is that pandering to him matters more to you than  giving your sick little granddaughter an hour of your time."

Hermione's mouth trembled and her hand fell away from Brianna's arm.  "You make me ashamed," she quavered. "I wish I had your fortitude. But  my husband-"

"Is a bully, Mrs. Poulos, and he gets away with it because you let him,"  Brianna replied bluntly. "Why don't you try standing up to him, for a  change? You'd be surprised how much it would boost your confidence, not  to mention your self-esteem. Who knows, it might even earn the respect  of the son you claim to love so devotedly."                       
       
           



       

"It isn't easy."

"Not many things worth having ever are. It all boils down to how hard  you're willing to fight for them. And now, if you'll excuse me,  Dimitrios is waiting to take me home."

"You were in the ladies' room a long time," he remarked, as they headed  back along the road to the villa. "I was beginning to think you were  being held hostage."

"In a way I was. Your mother cornered me."

He stiffened, his hands suddenly gripping the steering wheel until his  knuckles turned white. "I'm surprised my father risked letting her off  her leash and out of his sight. What did she want?"

"To know how Poppy is."

"I hope you told her to mind her own business."

"I couldn't do that, Dimitrios. She was so upset and seemed genuinely  worried. But I did suggest she could always visit Poppy and see for  herself how she's doing."

At that, he hit the brakes with such force that the car nearly skidded off the road. "You did what?"