World Cup Hook Up

3

The sight of the sun setting over the Aegean was something that Stacy suspected would never get old. She wound up the steps to her dad's garden, a small patch of land near the main front desk/courtyard but hidden from view by the winding terraces. Her dad was already sitting in his favorite low-slung chair, facing the sunset with a cold beer in his hand as Maria grilled some lamb koftas off at a corner. Kostas sat with him, exchanging a few jokes but unable to keep still -- every now and then he'd get up to fuss with the bindings on a creeping twine or to pick a dead leaf off a rosebush.

"Kostas, you should rest!" she called out. "The garden is perfect already."

"Can be more perfect miss," he replied cheerily, falling back to his seat and taking a long draught of beer.

"Stacy!" her dad greeted, his face breaking into a wide smile.

She wandered to the table behind them, already laden with salads and bread and meze -- the little plates of Greek appetizers she'd learned to love during her stay. She swiped a piece of flat bread and spread some hummus on it, and then pulled up a chair to munch it beside her dad.

"Maria won't like that," he teased.

"You ruin appetite!" Maria laughed uproariously, imitating a strict lady. Stacy held up the hummus in salute. The truth was that Maria didn't care when you ate the meze before dinner, and if she had her way, if you could eat her food continually, that was for the best. It was hard not to because Maria's cooking was amazing.

Stacy's dad sighed and watched as the last dying rays of the sun painted the sky gold and pink. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Kostas toasted the sight, and even Maria paused to watch.  Only the sound of the crashing waves filled the appreciative hush in the garden.

The spell was broken by the sound of someone walking up the path and the sudden "Oh!" of their only guest (the Russians had, at last, checked out) stopping in his tracks at the sight of them.

"Mr. Monson!" Stacy's dad sprang into action, getting up to greet the young man. "What can we do for you?"

"N-nothing at all," said Adi, furtively glancing at the domestic scene he'd interrupted. "I was just taking a walk. You have a beautiful place."

"Thanks," he clapped Adi on the shoulder he'd bruised earlier that day. "It's been a long dream of mine to live and work here."

Adi started shifting on his feet; her dad stood nodding like one of those dashboard Labradors, waiting for the conversation to continue. Maria had to step in and save them.

"Mr. Monson sir you like to join us for dinner?"

Stacy's dad shot her a look of surprise. "Maria, I am sure Mr. Monson would prefer if we set up a lovely spread in the privacy of his suite, perhaps in the verandah, sir?"

Adi looked at the table, then at Maria, Kostas and Stacy. "Actually I -- if it is all right -- I wouldn't say no to company tonight."

"Ah," said Stacy's dad, and then he sprang into host mode. "Very well sir; I do apologize, this is all rather casual; let me just get this sorted -- my daughter Stacy can keep you company while we set the table?" and then off he went, barking orders to Kostas, calling for the staff to bring out the good china and linen. Maria was in a right tizzy, so sure she was that her dishes weren't up to par, so she had to be taken to a corner and calmed down by Stacy's dad.

Adi sidled over to Stacy as she stood at the edge of the garden, watching the early stars come out. "You didn't tell me you're the owner's daughter?"

"Do you really need to know that?"

He smirked and watched the stars with her. "So did you Google me?"