While we waited for our waiter to take our drink order, I checked my phone. Tons of texts and voicemails from Samantha. I felt like a jerk. She must’ve been freaking out trying to reach me. I’d make up for it later.

But the last text to come in was from Brandon Charboneau.

How are the paintings coming along? I want to book the gallery for your show, but I can’t set a date until you give me one. Let me know.

Fucking great. I had never told Brandon about the trial. He’d been cracking the whip enough as it was without knowing. I hadn’t wanted him going nuts thinking I had to get everything done before I ended up in prison. It would’ve created way too much tension between us.

Now that my trial was finally over, the last thing I wanted to do was jump back in the studio to continue painting a bunch of models I had no interest in painting.

Before, I had been painting them mostly to keep my mind off the Grossman trial. Work was always a good distraction. On the bright side, now that I had this ridiculous Hunter Blakeley civil suit hanging over my head, the work might be just what I needed to keep me motivated. I’d spent a huge amount of my money on Russell. His services weren’t cheap. If I ended up paying out to Hunter, even if I only owed him a fraction of the amount he was asking, I’d be broke.

I needed to earn some cash quick. Cranking out the canvases for Brandon was a good a way as any to pull in more Benjamins.

And now that Samantha had moved in, she could watch me hanging out with hot naked chicks seven days a week. She wouldn’t miss a moment of the excitement. I’m sure she’d have the time of her life.

Fuck. Like everything else, I’d worry about it later. When the waitress arrived, I ordered a double shot of Basil Hayden bourbon.

Let the drinking begin.

* * *

SAMANTHA


“How much did you drink?” I asked Christos as everyone walked out of the Yard House onto Broadway.

“Lost count,” Christos slurred.

“You weigh a million pounds,” I grunted. His arm was over my shoulder and he leaned against me. It felt like a building had fallen onto me.

“Let me help you, Samantha,” Nikolos said, concerned. He grabbed Christos’ other arm and stood him up easily, taking all of his weight.

“Where’s my Camaro?” Christos asked.

“You’re not driving, paidí mou,” Nikolos said, “not like this.”

Christos wasn’t sloppy drunk, but he was in the neighborhood. This was the first time I’d seen him like this. I couldn’t blame him. He’d had a stressful day.

“I can drive Christos’ Camaro,” Spiridon said to Nikolos. “You can take my car home.”

Nikolos nodded. “Which way to your car, Samantha?”

“This way,” I pointed.

“Brianna and I are parked this way,” Russell said to everyone. “I should get her back to her car at the office so she can go home.”

We all said our goodbyes. Spiridon and Nikolos walked Christos and me west on Broadway, toward the parking garage where my VW was. Russell and Brianna went the other way.

“Tell me about some of your paintings, Samantha,” Nikolos said as the four of us walked along the sidewalk.

“She’s awesome,” Christos slurred, his eyes a little glassy.

“She’s quite good,” Spiridon agreed. “She’s a fast learner. Christos has taught her a lot since they met in September. I’ve never seen such rapid improvement.”

I blushed. “Gosh, Spiridon, thank you.”

“I’d love to see some of your work,” Nikolos said. “Has Christos been teaching you about the figure?”

“Yeah. He’s taught me all about gesture drawing and studying anatomy, and how to draw from the model. I never knew you could do that. I always thought you had to make everything up out of your head.”

Nikolos nodded and smiled, still holding Christos around the waist to help him walk. Christos was drunker than I’d thought.

“She’s soooo good,” Christos said.

Yeah, he was toasted.

Nikolos didn’t seem to mind. I knew from Christos that Nikolos was a heavy drinker, but he hadn’t drunk anything at dinner. He was completely sober.

“A lot of people think drawing is magic,” Nikolos said. “They think you’re either born knowing how or you’re not. That’s not true. You can learn, especially if you have a good teacher.”

“That’s what Christos said!” I smiled.

Nikolos nodded proudly.

We eventually made it to the parking garage where my VW was parked. Nikolos gently lowered Christos into the back seat, then the rest of us climbed in.

After dropping Spiridon off at Christos’ Camaro, I took Nikolos to where Spiridon’s car was parked in another garage. He pulled Christos out of the back seat of my VW and put him in the front seat for me. There was no way I could’ve done it myself. Nikolos moved Christos like he didn’t weigh a thing. He was pretty damn strong.

“Thanks for everything,” I said as I hugged Nikolos.

“I can tell, Samantha,” Nikolos said as he patted my back, “you’re a good girl. I’m glad my son met you. I’m just sorry it was that idiot Horst Grossman who brought you together.”

“Oh, I don’t care,” I laughed. “That guy was a jerk and now we can forget about him. But if he hadn’t been such an ass master in the first place, I never would’ve met your son.”

“Ass master?” Nikolos chuckled. “In the old days, when I was young, I would’ve called him a fucking asshole and left it at that.”

I shrugged. “But that sounds like any random asshole. Horst Grossman was like the master of all assholes. He’s the one who gives all the orders,” I grinned.

“I like how you think,” Nikolos laughed. “Do you need me to follow you back to my father’s house to help get Christos out of the car?”

“I think I can manage. If not, he can sleep in the car.”

“Spiridon has a wheelbarrow in the garage if you need one. Well, good night, Samantha. I look forward to seeing your art sometime soon.”

“Me too!” I smiled. I waved as he got into Spiridon’s car and drove away.

I hoped that Nikolos would come by the house for a visit at some point. He seemed really nice. I don’t know why Christos never spent any time with him. Based on the way Christos had talked about his dad in the past, I’d imagined Nikolos would be some rundown drunk. That’s not what he seemed like tonight. He seemed healthy and was definitely sober. Christos had been the one doing all the drinking.

Maybe Christos and his dad would start spending more time together. I’m sure it would be good for both of them.

Despite all of the day’s drama, I felt like things were starting to look up for me and Christos.

Finally.

* * *

My good mood took a nose dive when my phone rang on the drive home.

My parents were calling.

There was no way I was going to answer them right now. I couldn’t deal with one more drop of drama tonight. After our last call, I could only imagine the nastiness they would slam me with if I answered.

I let it go to voicemail. I’d deal with them later. Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe never.

Maybe if I never called them back, my parents would slowly forget they ever had a daughter. I could hope.

So, so, so, SO GROAN!!!

I rolled my eyes and concentrated on the road as I drove toward home.

Home. To my new house where I lived with Christos. Swoon. The drunk guy slumped against the door of my VW. Sigh. Oh well, nothing was perfect. So what if he was drunk? It was better than him being in jail.

Besides, I’d been drunk plenty of times in high school as an outcast teenager. Sometimes things got so bad, it was the only thing I knew how to do to block out the pain and rejection when I was alone. Sometimes, not even ice cream was enough. But my drinking hadn’t turned me into an alcoholic. I’m sure Christos would be fine. If his drinking somehow became a problem, I’d be around to help. I wouldn’t let him throw his life away. We’d find a way through whatever obstacles life put in front of us. Together.

Spiridon was already back at the house when I pulled into the driveway. He helped Christos out of the car with ease and didn’t need a wheelbarrow. All the Manos men were very strong physically. I didn’t know how old Spiridon was, but he had to be at least sixty. He pulled Christos out of the car like he didn’t weigh a thing. I couldn’t have done it without a forklift.

Spiridon walked Christos upstairs and lowered him onto the bed.

“I can take it from here,” I said.

“Okay. I feel like some tea. I’m going to go make some. You can join me if you’d like.”

“All right.”

Spiridon smiled, “It’s so good to have you living with us, Samoula. It was far too quiet with only my grandson around. It’s nice to have more family in the house.”

My heart warmed at his words. “Thank you, Spiridon.” The implication that I was family brought tears to my eyes. I’d known him for all of five months and I felt completely at ease around him. Maybe he could adopt me officially. Oh wait, wouldn’t that make me Christos’ sister? No, that would only be if Nikolos adopted me. If Spiridon adopted me, that would make me Christos’ aunt. Not gonna work.

“What’s so funny?” Spiridon asked.

“Nothing,” I smiled. “Just random thoughts. Let me take care of Christos and I’ll join you downstairs.”

“Perfect. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

I hung my blazer in the closet and slipped off my heels. Then I slid Christos’ dress shoes off. He was still in his suit, which was now quite rumpled. He’d been truly dashing in the courtroom. Now his rumpled face looked like it could use a press as badly as his suit. I loosened his tie and opened his collar. He moaned sleepily, but didn’t seem interested in opening his eyes.