The Greek Billionair's Marriage Matchmaker(15)

The driver had a stoic expression that Zoey hadn't quite learned to read, but he greeted her cordially when she approached.



"Good afternoon, Miss Forde," he said, holding the rear door open. "Mr. Zakiridis would like to request a moment of your time."



"Far more than a moment," Stelios corrected from inside the vehicle.



"It's good to see you again, Fulton," Zoey replied before slipping inside the vehicle beside the man she loved.



"I've missed you these last few days," she opened, kissing Stelios on  the lips as the driver shut the door and took his place in the front.



"I missed you too," Stelios replied, returning her affections. "I was  tempted to ignore the meeting and stay in New York, but I had to oversee  my Canadian holdings. A lot of people would suffer if anything went  wrong, so I couldn't allow that to happen."



"I understand. My mother's been keeping me company while you've been  gone. The last few weeks she's been like a completely different person."



The town car sped forward, and Stelios must have given Fulton his orders  earlier because he said nothing about where they were going. He looked  preoccupied, and Zoey couldn't help but call attention to it.



"I'm sorry," Stelios responded to her questioning. "It's just … I've been thinking that you ought to meet my relatives."



"That's a fantastic idea," Zoey replied enthusiastically. "Were you worried that I might not be willing to do that?"



"No, it's not that. I'm just a little worried about transportation. You  see, I can only make a trip like that a few times a year, and none of  the windows in my schedule would give us enough time to sail to Greece."



"Sail? Why would we sail when we could just … " The breath left her lips  before she could form the last word. That was exactly the way Stelios'  parents had perished: flying home to visit family.



"I can't fly, Zoey. Believe me, I've tried. I miss my aunts and uncles a  great deal. I wanted to see them after the accident happened, so we  could grieve together. I actually scheduled the flight, but when I got  near the plane, my chest became tight and I couldn't breathe. They had  to take me to the hospital. Eventually, I got over the panic attacks,  but I've never been able to board a plane since."



Zoey said nothing, but she took his hand in hers and squeezed it  sympathetically. She wanted to say something comforting, something that  would encourage him and lift his spirits. She would have given a great  deal right then for one of those television writers who always seemed to  know what to say. But after a few minutes, she could only think of one  thing. It didn't sound that good to her, but she went with it anyway.



"Someday, when you're ready, you'll face up to your fear of flying, and  you won't have to do it alone. I'll be right beside you the whole way  over. I want to say ‘I know how you feel' but I don't, and all I can do  is help you the best way I can. What I'm trying to say is I love you,  Stelios. And I don't think there's anything we can't get through  together."         

     



 



At the end of this speech, Stelios was silent for a minute. Then he drew Zoey in and gave her a long, deep kiss.



"The best thing that ever happened to me was meeting you in your  mother's agency. I almost want to pay to put those ads back up," he  joked.



"Let's not bring that topic up again," Zoey laughed.



The car slowed down and pulled up to a tollbooth. Zoey thought she saw  Fulton smiling in the rear view mirror, but when she looked again, his  face was as unreadable as ever. The driver handed over the required  amount of money for the toll and drove on, exactly as if there were no  one behind him.



The tall concrete buildings began to grow shorter and eventually to  disappear altogether. They were replaced by smaller buildings, then with  houses, and finally, trees. The air began to be filled with the chatter  of birds and insects.



"I thought we'd get away from the city," Stelios explained. "I have some  private land hidden away that I think you'll enjoy immensely."



Fifteen minutes later, when Fulton finally brought the car to a stop,  Zoey's jaw fell open. The area around them looked as if it had been  pulled right out of a storybook.



They were parked on a neat gravel road that cut through a forest of  trees that seemed to reach the sky. Zoey could see a vast clearing  ahead, which was almost completely surrounded by a wall of trees. An  old-fashioned red-brick cabin stood in the center, surrounded by shrubs  and flowers that shone like jewels. Beyond the clearing, a small  sailboat sat on what must have been a manmade lake. A dirt trail cut  through the grass. Fruit trees were everywhere, as well as benches,  swings, and little gardens. In the center of the lake, on a tiny island,  was a stone temple. It was surrounded by several small olive trees, and  stone benches hugged the exterior.



"Stelios, this place is amazing! I don't think I've seen anything so beautiful."



Without waiting for a response, Zoey started walking down the trail like a screw drawn by an electromagnet.



"I hoped you'd like it," Stelios replied, joining her. "I built it to be  sort of a haven from New York City. I come here whenever I start  thinking about my parents and it all gets to be a bit too much. This  place is my refuge, and I want to share it with you," he added, casually  plucking an apple from a tree and handing it to her.



Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion herself, Zoey accepted the gift.



They spent the rest of the day in Stelios' little paradise, hidden away  from the rest of the world. Zoey had no idea how Fulton got along,  whether he waited somewhere in the clearing or drove away and came back  later. All she remembered was the feel of her lover's strong arms, the  intoxicating fragrance of the flowers, and the taste of fresh olives.





***





Four days after her trip to paradise, Zoey saw something almost as  beautiful. She had come in to work on the subway that morning, and it  had worked wonders to sour her mood. There had been nowhere to sit, and  two slimy guys had tried to hit on her the entire way to the transfer  point. There, somebody had tried to steal her purse, and only a  sharp-eyed girl with a loud voice had prevented him from succeeding.  When Zoey finally arrived at her office, it was to discover that two  exceptionally difficult clients were waiting for her. By lunchtime, she  was in one hell of a mood, but then something nearly as beautiful as  Stelios' lakeside paradise: a middle-aged man lugging a picnic basket.



It was Branden Kingston, the client they were still ostensibly trying to  find a match for. Melinda had quietly stopped looking long ago, and  taking her cue from her mother, Zoey had followed suit. The man moved to  say hello to Zoey, but Annie quickly whispered something in his ear. At  first, he seemed to scoff at the whispered advice, but Annie's  earnestness eventually made him relent.



He moved past the office and into the elevator that would take him to  the second floor. Once there, he found Melinda's office and knocked  three times, as was his custom.



"Come right in," Melinda's voice rang out. It was businesslike, but one heard tinges of expectation in it as well.



With his free hand, Branden opened the door and beheld Maria, Melinda's personal assistant, perched at her desk like a stone.         

     



 



"Good afternoon," she greeted him with affected brightness. "Ms. Forde will see you in the rear office."



"Thank you, miss," Branden replied, lugging his basket toward the back.



Behind him, the secretary released a barely audible sigh.



"Mr. Kingston," Melinda said grandly when she saw him approaching. "Have you come to inquire about your case again?"



Regardless of what she admitted to herself, Melinda was determined to keep up appearances.



Branden let the door close behind him before he answered. "I had  something a little different in mind, if you will allow it. You see,  I've been thinking that our conversations go right through lunchtime.  Neither of us have the time to eat afterward, so I thought I'd bring  something for us to share. What do you think?"



"I think that's an excellent idea, Mr. Kingston, and such a thoughtful one as well."



"If we're going to eat lunch together, you can call me Branden."



"All right then, Branden," she replied. "I'll clear some space for the food."



The first thing to come out of the picnic basket was a cold,  plastic-wrapped ceramic plate. On it was wedges of pineapple,  watermelon, and strawberry, and in the center sat a small bowl that held  a ginger-flavored dip. This was followed by an orzo salad with grilled  salmon, and Caprese sandwiches. For dessert, Branden had brought four  decadent brownies made with rich dark chocolate and refreshing mint.



"That was an excellent lunch," Melinda remarked when they'd finished  eating. "Whoever we find for you is going to be very lucky."