Mediterranean Mavericks: Greeks

CHAPTER THREE

LETTY SHIVERED IN the darkest, coldest hours of the night as she walked to the Lexington Avenue subway station and got on the express train. It was past one in the morning, and she held her bag tightly in the mostly empty compartment, feeling vulnerable and alone.

Arriving at her stop in Brooklyn, she came numbly down the stairs from the elevated station and walked the blocks to her apartment. The streets were dark, the shops all closed. The February—no, it was March now; it was past midnight—wind was icy against her cheeks still raw with tears.

She’d thought it was a miracle when she saw Darius again. She’d thought he’d found out the truth of how she’d sacrificed herself, and he’d come back for her.

Telling him she loved him had felt so right. She’d honestly thought he might tell her the same thing.

How could she have been so wrong?

You disgust me.

She could still hear the contempt in his voice. Wiping her eyes hard, she shivered, trembling as she trudged toward her four-story apartment building.

While many of the nearby buildings were nice, well kept, with flower boxes, hers was an eyesore, with a rickety fire escape clinging to a crumbling brick facade. But the place was cheap, and the landlord had asked no personal questions, which was what she cared about. Plugging in a security code, Letty pushed open the door.

Inside, the temperature felt colder. Two of the foyer’s lights were burned out, leaving only a single bare lightbulb to illuminate the mailboxes and the old delivery menus littering the corners of the cracked tile floor.

Even in the middle of the night, noises echoed against the concrete stairwell, a Doppler tangle of tenants yelling, dogs barking, a baby crying. A sour smell came up from beneath the metal stairs as she wearily climbed three flights. She felt wretched, body and soul, torn between her body’s sweet ache from their lovemaking and her heart’s incandescent grief.

The fourth floor had worn, stained carpet and a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Going past the doors of her neighbors—some of whom she’d never met even after three years—she reached into her handbag, found her keys and unlocked the dead bolt. The door creaked as she pushed it open.

“Letty! You’re back!” Her father looked up eagerly from his easy chair. He’d waited up for her, wrapped in both a robe and a blanket over his flannel pajamas, since the thermostat didn’t work properly. Turning off the television, he looked up hopefully. “Well?”

As the door swung shut behind her, Letty stared at him in disbelief. Her handbag dropped to the floor.

“How could you?” she choked out.

“How could I get you and Darius back together so easily?” Her father beamed at her. “All I needed was a good excuse!”

Her voice caught on a sob. “Are you kidding?”

Howard frowned. “Are you and Darius not back together?”

“Of course we’re not! How could you send him a message, pretending to be me? Offering me for the night!”

“I was trying to help,” he said falteringly. “You’ve loved him for so long but refused to contact him. Or he you. I thought…”

“What? That if you forced us together, we’d immediately fall back into each other’s arms?”

“Well, yes.”

As she stared at him, still trembling from the roller coaster of emotion of that night, anger rushed through her.

“You didn’t do it for me!” Reaching into her bag, she grabbed the cashier’s check and shoved it at him. “You did it for this!”

Her father’s hands shook as he grasped the cashier’s check. Seeing the amount, his eyes filled with visible relief. “Thank God.”

“How could you?” She wanted to shake her father and scream at him for what he’d done. “How could you sell me?”

“Sell you?” Her father looked up incredulously. “I didn’t sell you!” Struggling to untangle himself from his blanket, he rose from his chair and sat beside her on the sofa. “I figured the two of you would talk and soon realize how you’d been set up. I thought you’d both have a good laugh, and it would be easier for you each to get over your pride. Maybe he’d send money, maybe he wouldn’t.” His voice cracked. “But either way, you’d be together again. The two of you love each other.”

“You did it for love.” Letty’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “So the fact that you read about Darius’s billion-dollar deal this morning had nothing to do with it.”

He winced at her sarcasm, then looked down at the floor. His voice trembled a little as he said, “I guess I thought there was no harm in also trying to solve a problem of my own with a…dissatisfied customer.”

Glaring at him, Letty opened her mouth to say the cruel words he deserved to hear. Words she’d never be able to take back. Words neither one of them would ever be able to forget. Words that would take her anguish and rage, wrap them up into a tight ball and launch them at her father like a grenade.

Then she looked at him, old and forlorn, sitting beside her on the sagging sofa. The man she’d once admired and still absolutely loved.

His hair had become white and wispy, barely covering his spotted scalp. His face, once so hearty and handsome, was gaunt with deep wrinkles on his cheeks. He’d shrunk, become thin and bowed. His robe was too big on him now. His near decade in prison had aged him thirty years.

Howard Spencer, a middle-class kid from Oklahoma, had come to New York and built a fortune with only his charm and a good head for numbers. He’d fallen in love with Constance Langford, the only daughter of an old aristocratic family on Long Island. The Langfords had little money left beyond the Fairholme estate, which was in hock up to the eyeballs. But Howard Spencer, delirious with happiness at their marriage, had assured Constance she’d never worry about money again.

He’d kept his promise. While his wife had been alive, he’d been careful and smart and lucky with his investment fund. It was only after his wife’s sudden death that he’d become reckless, taking bigger and bigger financial risks, until his once respected hedge fund became a hollowed-out Ponzi scheme, and suddenly eight billion dollars were gone.

The months of Howard’s arrest and trial had been awful for Letty, and worrying about him in prison had been even worse. But now, as she looked at the old man he’d somehow become, was the worst of all.

As she looked at his slumped shoulders, his heartbroken eyes—at his broken arm, still hanging uselessly in the cast—she felt her anger evaporate, leaving in its place only grief and despair. Her mouth snapped shut.

Slumping forward, she covered her face with her hands.

The memory of Darius’s words floated back to her. You needed to pay off some mobster who’d broken your father’s arm and threatened to break his whole body if he didn’t come up with a hundred thousand dollars within the week.

Chilled, she looked up. “Why didn’t you tell me someone broke your arm, Dad? Why did you let me think it was an accident?”

Howard looked down at the floor guiltily. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Worry?” she cried.

His wan cheeks turned pink. “A father’s supposed to take care of his daughter, not the other way around.”

“So it’s true? Some thug broke your arm and threatened you if you didn’t pay him back his money?”

“I knew I could handle it.” He tried to smile. “And I have. Once I sign over this check, everything will be fine.”

“How do you know you won’t have more thugs demanding money, once it’s known you actually paid someone back?”

Her father looked shocked. “No. Most of the people who invested in my fund were good, civilized people. Not violent!”

Letty ground her teeth. For a man who’d been in a minimum-security federal prison for nine years, he could be surprisingly naive.

“You should have told me.”

“Why? What would you have done except worry? Or worse—try to talk to the man yourself and put yourself in danger?” He set his jaw. “Like I said, I didn’t know if Darius would actually send the money. But I knew, either way, you would be safe because you’d be with him.” He shook his head, trying to smile. “I really thought you and Darius would take one look at each other and be happy again.”

Letty sagged back against the sofa cushions. Her father’d really thought he was doing her a favor. That he was reuniting her with a lost love. That he was protecting her, saving her.

She whispered bleakly, “Darius thought I was a gold digger.”

Howard looked indignant. “Of course he didn’t! Once you told him you hadn’t sent the message…”

“He didn’t believe me.”

“Then…then…he must have believed you were just a good daughter looking out for your father. Darius has so much money now, you can’t tell me he’ll miss such a small amount. Not after everything you did for him!”

“Stop,” she choked out. Just remembering how Darius had looked at her when he handed her the cashier’s check was enough to make her want to die. But after he’d told her about the threat against her father’s life, what choice had she had?

Her father looked bewildered. “Didn’t you tell him what happened ten years ago? Why you never ran away with him?”

She flinched as she remembered Darius’s acid words. Go on, Letty. Tell me how your betrayal was actually a favor. Explain how you destroyed my family at great personal sacrifice, because you loved me so much.

“No,” she whispered, “and I never will. Darius doesn’t love me. He hates me more than ever.”

Howard’s wrinkled face looked mournful. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“But now I hate him, too.” She looked up. “That’s the one good thing that happened tonight. Now I hate him, too.”

Her father looked anguished. “That was never what I wanted!”

“It’s good.” Wiping her eyes, she tried to smile. “I’ve wasted too many years dreaming of him. Missing him. I’m done.”

She was.

The Darius Kyrillos she’d loved no longer existed. She saw that now. She’d tried to give him everything, and he’d seduced her with a cold heart. Her love for Darius was burned out of her forever. Her only hope was to try to forget.

But four weeks later, she found out how impossible that would be. She’d never be able to forget Darius Kyrillos now.

She was pregnant with his baby.

She’d taken the pregnancy test, sure it would be negative. When it was positive, she was shocked. But shock soon became a happy daze as Letty imagined a sweet fat baby in her arms, to cuddle and adore.

Then she told her father.

“I’m going to be a grandfather?” Howard was enraptured at the news. “That’s wonderful! And when you tell Darius—”

That caused the first chill of fear. Because Letty suddenly recalled this baby wouldn’t just be hers, but Darius’s.

He hated her.

He’d threatened to take her baby from her.

Letty shook her head violently. “I can never tell him about the baby!”

“Of course you will.” Her father patted her on the shoulder. “I know you’re angry at him. He must have hurt you very badly. But that’s all in the past! A man has a right to know he’s going to be a father.”

“Why?” She turned to him numbly. “So he can try to take the baby away because he hates me so much?”

“Take the baby?” Her father laughed. “Once Darius finds out you’re pregnant, he’ll forget his anger and remember how much he loves you. You’ll see. The baby will bring you together.”

She shook her head. “You’re living in a dream world. He told me…”

“What?”

Letty turned away, hearing the echo of that coldly malevolent voice. I would never allow any child of mine to be raised by you and that criminal you call a father.

“We need to start saving money,” she whispered. “Now.”

“Why? Once you’re married, money will never be a worry for you again.” Howard looked ecstatic. “You and my grandchild will always be cared for.”

Letty knew her father couldn’t believe Darius wanted to hurt her. But she knew he did.

I would hire a hundred lawyers first and drive you both into the sea.

They had to leave this city as soon as possible.

Under the terms of her father’s probation, Howard was required to remain in the state of New York. So they’d go north, move to some little town upstate where no one knew them, where she could find a new job.

There was just one problem. Moving required money. First and last month’s rent, a security deposit and transport for Letty, Howard and all their belongings. Money they didn’t have. They were barely keeping their heads above water as it was.

Over the next few months, Letty’s fears were proved true. No matter how hard she worked, she couldn’t save money. Howard was always hungry or needed something urgently. Money disappeared. There were also the added expenses of medical co-payments for Letty’s doctor visits, and physical therapy for her father’s arm.

There was some good fortune. After Howard had paid off the mobster, no other angry former investors had threatened him, demanding repayment.

But there, their luck ended. Just when Letty was desperate for overtime pay, all the other waitstaff suddenly seemed to want it, too. But warmer summer weather meant fewer customers at the diner craving the fried eggs and chicken fried steak that were the diner’s specialties. Her work hours became less, not more.

Each morning when she left for work, her father pretended to look through job listings in the paper, looking shifty-eyed and pale. Pregnancy exhausted her. Each night when she got home from work, almost falling asleep where she stood, she cooked dinner for them both. She’d do the dishes and go to bed. Then the whole day would start again.

Every day, she anxiously counted the savings she kept in her old chipped cookie jar on the kitchen counter. And every day, she looked at the calendar and felt more afraid.

By late August, amid the sticky heat of New York City, Letty was growing frantic. She could no longer hide her baby bump, not even with her father’s oversize shirts. Everyone at the diner knew she was pregnant, including her friend and coworker Belle Langtry, who kept teasing her about it.

“Who’s the father?” Belle demanded. “Is it Prince Charming? I swear I saw you leave here once with a dark-haired man in a sports car.”

No. It wasn’t Prince Charming, Letty thought numbly. Her baby’s father was no prince, but a selfish, coldhearted beast who wanted to steal her child away.

Finally, as her yearlong lease on the apartment ended, she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She gave two weeks’ notice at the diner. She still hadn’t saved enough money, but time had run out.

On the first of September, Letty splashed cold water on her face in the darkness before dawn, then looked at her drawn face in the mirror.

Today was the day.

They couldn’t rent a truck to move their belongings. No money for that. Instead, they’d just take what would fit in two suitcases on the bus.