So what? Fuck ‘em. I wasn’t a wounded wildebeest. I was always ready for a fight. Because you knew the second the badass male lion came bounding out of the bush with his big mane on display, those hyenas scattered like ants in a sandstorm.
Too bad I wasn’t allowed to throw punches and elbows in court. Not by law, anyway. But Russell could. In the courtroom, he was a bigger lion than I was.
He was going to eat those D.A. fuckers for lunch.
Somebody hand me a knife and fork.
Chapter 5
SAMANTHA
After lunch, I went to the Main Library to study. No matter how many times I called or texted Christos, he never answered. I tried to concentrate on my Sociology and History reading, but it was tough going. I was too worried about Christos.
Eventually I gave up on homework and packed up my books and laptop. On my way to the north parking lot where I’d parked, I texted Christos one final time.
Meet me at ur place 4 dinner?
When I reached my VW, I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was right where I’d left it, seemingly intact. I’d sort of expected to find it either gone, somehow towed away by Tiffany Shitstain-Hateface, or perhaps a mangled heap. I wouldn’t put it past Tiffany to hire some guy to drive a bulldozer over it.
I strolled around my car, looking for any fresh key gouges or slashed tires. Nothing. Somehow, I imagined Tiffany was simply biding her time. Waiting for the most opportune moment to strike.
I climbed in my car and turned the ignition, wincing in anticipation of a car bomb going off. Nope, the engine started smoothly.
A moment later, I heard my phone jingle. A text from Christos.
Dinner is waiting for you at your new home, agapi mou.
Yay! I heaved a sigh of relief. I really needed to talk to him about his trial. I just hoped it wasn’t too late to make a difference.
I backed out of my space and drove down the aisle. Maybe Tiffany had cut my brake lines? How did one check brake lines anyway? I had no idea. Oh wait, I know!
I glanced in my rearview mirror. When I saw no one was behind me, I braked hard. My car stopped abruptly. The brakes seemed to be working. For now. Maybe it took awhile?
Screw it. I didn’t have time to worry about whatever that vengeful bitch Tiffany might be planning. I had more important things to worry about than her petty jealousy. I had to get home to my man.
Traffic was light and I made it to Christos’ house in record time. I parked in the driveway next to his Camaro. I pulled out my key to let myself in. I really needed to pack up all my stuff and move in ASAP. I’d already given my apartment manager my 30 day notice to vacate.
Sadly, I doubted there was time for me to move everything before Friday. I hadn’t even started packing. Then what? Would I be sharing this huge house with Spiridon while we waited who knew how long for Christos to be released from jail?
I didn’t want to think about it.
I jammed my key in the lock and walked inside.
For now, I was going to enjoy our time together as best I could.
“Samoula!” Spiridon smiled as I walked into the kitchen. “Dinner is almost ready.” He wrapped me up in a huge hug.
Christos walked in with a huge platter of lamb kebab skewers. “I just pulled these off the grill outside. I hope you’re hungry, agápi mou,” he smiled.
“You bet,” I grinned and tip-toed up to circle an arm around his neck and kiss his cheek.
Christos was so tall, he had to lean over for me to reach him. He twisted at the last second, holding the kebabs in one hand while he wrapped an arm around my waist and smooched me on the lips. “That’s more like it,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for that all day.”
“Your Spanakopita is almost ready,” Spiridon said to Christos. “It smells delicious.”
“Awesome,” Christos said as he set the platter of skewers on the counter top. I noticed chunks of grilled onions wedged on the skewers between the lamb. He grabbed an oven mitt and used it to pull a baking pan out of the oven.
“Wow, that looks uber yum!” I said. “What is it?”
“Spanakopita. Spinach pie.”
The crust was a perfect golden brown and looked flaky. I couldn’t wait to dig in.
“Sit down, you two,” Christos said while he cut up slices of Spanakopita and dished them up with the lamb skewers and cucumber salad.
“Mmm, Tzatziki! I can’t wait,” I smiled as Christos set plates in front of me and Spiridon.
Christos joined us at the table and we dug in.
As usual, conversation with Christos and his grandfather was fun and full of laughs. I relished these simple moments. Dinner with my parents was never like this. I was starting to believe my parents had no idea how to enjoy themselves, as if they consciously avoided laughter and joy. Groan. Maybe Spiridon and Christos could give them lessons. Not.
I continued to enjoy the good dinner vibes, but Christos’ trial kept nagging at the back of my mind. I couldn’t decide if Christos was avoiding the topic. He’d probably talked with Spiridon about it at length when I wasn’t around. It had been five months since Christos’ arrest, so they were probably sick of it. I wasn’t going to spoil dinner by bringing it up for the billionth time. I’d wait until afterward.
When we finished eating, I got up to clear the plates and do the dishes.
“Let me get those, koritsáki mou,” Spiridon said. “You go spend some time with my grandson.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes,” he smiled, a faint sadness swirling in his eyes.
“All right,” I said uncertainly.
“Go,” he said, “enjoy yourselves.”
“What the man said,” Christos grinned. “Wanna help me clean up the grill?”
“Sure,” I said.
We walked onto the back deck and Christos grabbed a steel brush to scrub down the grill. His muscles flexed and popped as he worked the brush, hypnotizing me instantly. I couldn’t concentrate. What did I need to talk to Christos about that was so important? Was it the fact his tattooed arms made me dizzy and my thighs were now quivering? No. Something else. Was it the way my stomach was somersaulting and my cheeks glowed red when his sexy lips curled into a smile as he glanced over at me like my mere presence had made his day? No, couldn’t be that either.
“Admit it,” he said, “once again, seeing me cleaning something is turning you on.”
Guilty. I rolled my eyes. “Totally not turned on.”
He flashed me a dimple grin. “Uh huh. I see the way your eyes are spinning in circles. You can barely stand up.”
So what if he was right? I wouldn’t admit it, not even in front of a jury after swearing on a stack of Bibles. Crap. That broke the spell. We needed to discuss his trial. I sighed sadly. “Did you get my call today?”
Christos chuckled as he scrubbed. “Yeah. Right in the middle of court. The judge gave me a ton of shit because my phone rang.”
“Oh no! I’m so sorry, I’m such an idiot. I should’ve waited to call.”
“It’s not your fault, agápi mou,” Christos reassured. “Don’t worry about it.”
No matter how anxious I was, Christos’ even demeanor could always calm me down. I took a deep, cleansing breath. “Did you get my text or have a chance to listen to my message?”
He set down the wire brush. “I did.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And,” I said, “I can testify for you. It’s not too late, is it?”