Santorini Sunsets (10 page)

She thought a picnic at Kamari Beach meant pita and fava beans and wooden bowls of sun-dried tomato salad. She imagined sitting under striped beach umbrellas and watching Jet Skiers glide across the Aegean.

But she'd arrived a few minutes late because the taxi got a flat tire and she had to make the last half of the trek by donkey and discovered Brigit and Blake had reserved the whole Nichteri Restaurant.

She drifted through rooms with green damask walls and white gauze curtains and chairs covered in striped silk cushions. Round tables were set with bouquets of purple anemones and favors wrapped in white lace and tied with a turquoise ribbon.

Glass sideboards held bowls of orzo pasta and spaghetti with feta cheese and green olives. There were plates of pork filet and beetroot. She gazed at the platters of baked mackerel and steamed mussels and wondered, if this was a simple picnic, what were they going to serve for the rehearsal dinner and wedding?

Then she noticed Brigit in a knee-length Escada dress and smiled. Of course they would have the picnic at the most elegant restaurant on Kamari Beach. Blake and Brigit were going to be Hollywood royalty and guests who interrupted their vacations in Capri or Amalfi wouldn't expect anything less.

Daisy filled her plate with pannacotta with apricots and Greek halva. She saw the mother of an old school friend and suddenly didn't want to hear how her daughter had won the World Equestrian Games in São Paulo.

She ran down to the beach and saw a familiar figure leaning against a thatched umbrella. He wore a striped shirt and had a silver camera slung over his shoulder.

Daisy slipped off her sandals and walked in the opposite direction. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with Robbie and blurt out something she shouldn't about Brigit and Nathaniel's marriage. She hurried along the black sand but suddenly the pebbles were too hot and Robbie approached her.

“The pebbles are made from volcanic formation,” Robbie explained. “In the afternoon they get so hot, you have to wear shoes or you'll burn your feet.”

“I noticed.” Daisy grimaced. “Aren't you supposed to be taking photos of the picnic?”

“Nathaniel had to send an e-mail and said he'd meet me here,” Robbie said. “I thought I'd wait until he arrives.” He glanced at Daisy's halter top and frowned. “Is everyone going swimming?”

“I assumed a picnic meant stuffed grape leaves and hummus on the beach,” Daisy replied, gazing at the blue ocean. “It really is gorgeous here, the water is so clear and the sand is like a black pearl necklace.”

“Kamari Beach is one of the most popular beaches in Santorini,” Robbie said. “In 1956 the whole island was almost destroyed by an earthquake. Tourists stayed away for years and they had to completely rebuild the economy. Now there are luxury hotels and fabulous restaurants and villas with infinity pools and glass patios.”

“I've always been happiest at the beach.” Daisy nodded. “My parents have a cottage in the Hamptons and Brigit and Nathaniel and I used to spend whole summers building sand castles. Brigit would run to the shore before breakfast because she didn't want Nathaniel to get a head start.”

“Brigit and Nathaniel knew each other as children?” Robbie asked.

“We were next-door neighbors.” Daisy nodded. “My mother always laughed and said he was going to make some woman happy because he arrived every morning with a basket of red apples or ripe peaches. He wanted to make sure he was invited to lunch; my mother made the best club sandwiches with bacon and avocado and swiss cheese.”

“Nathaniel never said anything,” Robbie mused. “I would have thought if they knew each other for so long…”

“That they would stay married? Brigit worked twelve-hour days at the law firm and couldn't trust Nathaniel to keep their goldfish alive.” Daisy's cheeks flushed. “Blake sends yellow roses to Brigit's office and they travel all over the world. They can have an elegant dinner without arguing if Hawthorne was a better writer than Steinbeck and whether most French movies are borderline pornography. I've never seen Brigit so happy and if Nathaniel prints one word about their past I'll make sure he ends up on a kayak without a paddle.”

“Of course the bride and groom are in love,” Robbie said. “Why else would they be getting married?”

“The sun is too hot and I need a glass of lemonade and a grape-and-hazelnut salad.” She walked toward the restaurant.

“I'm going to walk to the beach at Perissa when it gets cooler. Would you like to join me?” Robbie called. “At night Mesa Vouno is lit up and the Red Beach is spectacular.”

“I don't think that's a good idea.” Daisy turned around. “I'm the maid of honor and I've got a million things to do for the bride.”

*   *   *

Brigit filled a ceramic plate with Santorini sausage and quinoa salad. She bit into a feta cheese saganaki and thought she'd never tasted anything more delicious. She glanced at Blake in his navy blazer and white silk shirt and couldn't remember being so happy.

She watched him chat with the British consul and remembered making love on the catamaran. When they were together she felt as if they could accomplish anything: rebuild whole villages and send doctors to places that had never heard of Tylenol or aspirin.

She thought again about what Nathaniel had said and knew her father and Blake would never keep anything from her. As soon as the guests finished the pecan pie with chocolate ice cream she would ask Blake what Nathaniel had meant.

She glanced across the room and saw a man wearing a light blue blazer and tan slacks. His blond hair was neatly combed and his cheeks gleamed with aftershave. Brigit realized it was Nathaniel and flushed. Even if Nathaniel wore the Barneys cashmere blazer she'd bought for his twenty-fourth birthday he didn't belong at a luncheon celebrating her upcoming wedding.

“Blake, it's a pleasure to meet you, Nathaniel Cabot.” Nathaniel approached Blake. “I loved you in
The Silk Road.
I haven't seen an actor display so much angst since Liam Neeson in
Schindler's List
.”

“Spielberg wanted me to buff up for the part but I said, ‘Steven, no one is going to look like they spend every morning at Gold's Gym if they're trekking through the Himalayas eating packets of ramen.'” Blake juggled a plate of chickpeas in one hand and a crystal champagne flute in the other. “I lived on boiled rice and seaweed for a month before we started filming and lost twenty pounds.

“Your name sounds familiar,” Blake continued. “Are you a friend of Brigit's?”

“Ex-husband,” Nathaniel corrected. “But don't worry, Brigit was an exemplary wife. She made the most delicious tiramisu and never mixed the colors with the whites. Think of it like getting a dealer's car. It's practically brand new but with a few kinks worked out.”

Blake put his champagne flute on the glass sideboard and ran his hands through his hair. “This is a very intimate gathering, perhaps you'd better leave.”

“You invited me.” Nathaniel handed Blake an ivory card engraved with gold letters. “I'm starving, I only had tzatziki yogurt and black coffee for breakfast. The smoked salmon risotto with fennel looks delicious.”

“Where did you get this?” Blake waved the invitation.

“Winston sent me an itinerary of events.” Nathaniel popped a stuffed mushroom into his mouth. “Has he ever showed you his signed first edition of Madonna's
Sex
book? He only shows it to his closest friends, but for two million dollars he should give you a look. Page fifty-nine is quite extraordinary.”

“Nathaniel is the writer hired to write our wedding feature in
HELLO!
” Brigit took Blake's arm.

Blake crumpled the invitation and stuffed it into his pocket. “Winston never told me…”

“Think about all the time I'll save not having to learn Brigit's favorite foods or who was her first celebrity crush,” Nathaniel cut in. “Can you believe she had a Justin Timberlake poster above her bed?

“I do want to congratulate you, it's rare two generous and intelligent people find each other and I'm sure you will be happy,” Nathaniel finished, holding out his hand. “I read that you're from Ohio. I'm a big fan of the Cleveland Cavaliers. Cleveland must be quite a city to convince LeBron James to move from a twelve-million-dollar hacienda in Miami back to his hometown.”

“The Cavaliers made the championships two years in a row and they haven't begun to reach their potential.” Blake nodded. “But I can't get Leonardo to attend a game, he still roots for the Lakers even though Kobe is washed out.

“I have to say hello to the publisher of
Vanity Fair
.” Blake looked up. “We're partnering in bringing literacy to children in the Dominican Republic.”

“You've never watched a professional basketball game in your life,” Brigit hissed to Nathaniel when Blake strode across the room.

“You said watching sports is like collecting
Star Wars
cards or leaving smelly socks in your gym locker. Guys shouldn't do it after they leave middle school.”

“I watch television at the White Horse in Notting Hill.” Nathaniel rolled an olive around his plate. “You'd be surprised how many things I miss about America: seeing the Edward Hopper exhibit at the Whitney and eating dark chocolate pralines at La Maison du Chocolat. I even miss our old Thursday nights at the Empire Hotel, even though the french fries were soggy and the guys wore skinny ties and blue jeans.”

“That was years ago when everyone watched
Gossip Girl
.” Brigit flushed.

“Thankfully you grew out of that phase quickly,” Nathaniel mused. “Though you were more poised than any actress playing an Upper East Side schoolgirl.”

“If you write one bad thing about Blake you'll be sorry you ever learned to type,” Brigit said quietly.

“I told you I called a truce.” Nathaniel gazed at Brigit. “I think you picked very well.”

“You do?” Brigit asked.

“I watched the way Blake looks at you, he's obviously madly in love,” Nathaniel continued. “And he's a gentleman. He refilled your champagne flute and never interrupted your conversation.”

“Of course he's a gentleman,” Brigit said stiffly. “And he's one of the most hardworking people I've ever met. When we return from our honeymoon he's traveling to East Angola to present an award to Doctors Without Borders.”

“Do you remember graduation day at Dartmouth?” Nathaniel poured a glass of sparkling water. “The dry cleaner ruined your dress and you had to wear your mother's pink silk Escada. I found you crying under the rotunda because you said twenty-two-year-olds didn't wear silk Escada in the daytime; it was something your great aunt would do.

“I insisted no one would notice under your gown. You retorted you should be wearing something young and carefree: a paisley Alice + Olivia dress or a design by Stella McCartney.

“Now you're wearing Escada in the daytime and you look perfect.” Nathaniel ran his fingers over the rim. “You're all grown up and exactly where you want to be.”

“How did you know this is Escada?” Brigit murmured.

“I spent twenty-six years on the Upper East Side.” Nathaniel grinned.

Brigit opened her mouth and suddenly saw Daisy cross the room. She wore a long, flowing skirt and gold bangles.

“I'm so glad to see you.” Brigit looped her arm through hers. “I thought Molly's mother scared you away.”

“It's your pre-wedding luncheon.” Daisy smiled. “I wouldn't miss it.”

“Nathaniel and Blake were just talking about how much they love sports,” Brigit explained.

“I thought the only sport Nathaniel played was backgammon while doing shots of Absolut,” Daisy said.

“I haven't touched vodka in two years and I play squash twice a week,” Nathaniel replied. “One doesn't keep in shape at my age by eating his green beans and walking to the tube.”

A man with dark curly hair stood at the entry and Nathaniel motioned for him to join them.

“Robbie, you remember Brigit and Daisy. Don't they look stunning? British girls have that creamy complexion but they always have that pinched look like their stockings are too tight.”

“Daisy and I have met a few times around the island.” Robbie smiled.

“Daisy always roamed around East Hampton as a child,” Nathaniel said. “Sydney would send Brigit and me out on search parties because she'd go to White's Pharmacy for a packet of Mentos and not come back for hours.”

“I like exploring.” Daisy smoothed her hair. “Santorini is fascinating, I want to see the ancient villages of Pyrgos and Megalochori.”

“Where is Sydney?” Nathaniel asked. “I brought her a box of Fortnum's treacle fudge. I remember how she loved British chocolates.”

“She called and said they're running a little late.” Brigit glanced at her watch. “You didn't have to bring her anything, you are not a guest.”

“It's only polite to bring a hostess gift,” Nathaniel insisted. “Sydney is one of my favorite people. Sydney and Francis used to invite me over for lobster ravioli when you worked endless hours at the law firm. Francis would open a Napa Valley cabernet and we'd discuss B.B. King and book banning in school libraries.”

“Until you stopped going because you found lying on the sofa and watching
Breaking Bad
more interesting,” Brigit murmured.

“I didn't think they'd enjoy my company, I didn't have anything to bring to the conversation.”

“If you'll excuse me, I need to make sure we don't run out of Kessarias pasties.” she turned to Robbie. “It's nice to see you, please help yourself to some pork filet and white asparagus.”

Brigit stepped onto the balcony and took a deep breath. She didn't need to talk to the chef but she wasn't going to spend one of the loveliest luncheons discussing the months Nathaniel wore a flannel bathrobe and played Pac-Man.