The four of them silently walked back down the hill, Spyro
leading the way, his arm around Alex’s shoulder, followed by Costa, and then
Elaine.
Spyro was furious, Elaine could tell, but not nearly as
angry as she was with herself. She felt miserable. The rage she had shown
towards Dmitry was real, but it was self-directed. How could she have been so
stupid! She could not only have gotten Alex killed, but that poor little girl,
too. If anything would have happened to those poor children, or even their
little dog, she would never have forgiven herself.
By the time they reached the Lexus, Elaine was almost
sobbing.
They all silently climbed into the car, Elaine and Alex in
the back seat.
As soon as Costa started the engine and drove up the hill,
Alex said, “Did you
see her dad? She
destroyed that guy!”
Spyro didn’t reply. He glanced at Costa, looking even
madder, as if he thought Costa should have prevented any of it from happening.
Alex said, “She
destroyed that guy! So much blood—she
kicked him in the—”
“That’s enough, Alex!” his father snapped.
Now tears were streaming down Elaine’s face, she couldn’t
help it. What a disaster! It had seemed like such a clever plan in her mind,
but when executed in reality, it had completely backfired. She realized that
she looked like nothing more than a madwoman, completely out of control, mean,
nasty, and vicious, without a feminine bone in her body, let alone any dignity
or real concern for others! What father would want a woman like that in charge
of her son, acting like a role model?
When they arrived back at the villa, Costa stopped at the
front entrance. He let Spyro, Alex, and Elaine out, and then went to park the
car.
The three of them silently entered the house.
None of them had said a word during the entire drive back.
“Alex, go to your room,” Spyro said sternly.
“Go to your room,” Spyro snapped.
The boy reluctantly went up the stairs, looking over his
shoulder at Elaine.
She went up to her room, too, feeling overwhelmed with humiliation
and shame.
She went straight into the bathroom and peered at her
teary, blood-splattered face in the mirror.
Never again, she thought. I
will never involve children in any operation as long as I live, in any way,
shape or form. That SUV had come so close to hitting the kids that she really
had
saved both their lives...only she was saving them from her own stupidity, from
a plan that had gone terribly wrong, that she never should have set up in the
first place.
Elaine wiped her eyes...then stood still as she heard the
front door of the house open and Spyro yell “Costa!” at the top of his lungs. A
moment later, she heard the library door slam shut.
Spyro started screaming, in Greek.
Elaine had never heard Spyro lose his temper before. He
sounded like a monster, even more livid than Elaine had been. She couldn’t
understand a word he said, of course, but just from the tone it was obvious
that he at least partially blamed Costa for what had happened, for not keeping
closer watch over Alex.
The yelling went on continuously for what seemed like fifteen
minutes.
When it finally stopped, Elaine went back out into the
bedroom and looked glumly out the window. It was her turn next. Spyro was going
to fire her, of course, and he had very good reason. Such a stupid, naive plan.
She had not only put two children’s lives in mortal danger, she had completely
botched her undercover operation, and all the time, energy and resources that
she, Luna, and Dmitry had invested into it were lost.
She sat down on the bed, then looked down at her “blood”-splattered
overcoat. She rose again, tiredly took it off, and hung it in the wardrobe.
Seeing the red-splattered garment would only make Spyro
angrier.
Elaine heard the sound of a door opening downstairs—someone
was walking to the bottom of the stairway.
“Patricia?” Spyro called, his voice sounding a little
hoarse from screaming, but stern. “Come down here, please. I need to talk to
you.”
A moment later, Elaine slowly descended the stairs, her
knees shaking, dreading what was about to take place. But she wasn’t really
afraid of Spyro. Being chewed out by the man was trivial compared to what she’d
just been through in Ekkara. His verbal thrashing couldn’t begin to match the
one she’d been giving herself internally.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Spyro was
standing out in the hallway, in front of the library, an unreadable look on his
face.
He merely motioned to the door, let Elaine enter, then he
entered himself.
“Sit down,” he sat flatly, and motioned to one of the
leather guest chairs.
Elaine did so, and Spyro seated himself behind the desk.
She wondered if there was any way she could salvage the situation, even
partially, but she knew it was hopeless.
Spyro looked at her for a second and exhaled a long breath
of air, both cheeks puffing out. “Boy, did I misjudge you. I pride myself on my
instincts about people, but I couldn’t have been more wrong about you.”
“I’m sorry,” Elaine said.
“I’m almost at a loss for words. That was some beating you
gave that man. Alex was right—you destroyed him.”
“What did you say to him, anyway? When you spoke Russian?”
“Nothing, really...I just told him he was an idiot, and
that he could have killed the children.”
“I’m sure it was an honest mistake. There’s no way he could
have planned something like that with any accuracy, and it made no sense,
anyway. I already called the car rental company and checked him out.
He’s just a tourist from Moscow.”
“You’re not going to do anything to him?”
“Do anything?” Spyro frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
Elaine shrugged. “Press charges.”
“Of course not. What’s the point? I don’t need trouble here
on the island.” Spyro paused, glancing down at her dress, which was also
splattered with a few droplets of the fake blood. “I think he learned his
lesson.”
They just sat there looking at each other.
With a sigh, Spyro said, “Obviously you can’t continue to
work in the capacity of a governess after such a violent demonstration of your
true character.”
“No, of course not,” Elaine said, and she stood up.
He looked surprised. “Where are you going?”
“I...upstairs, to pack, I guess.”
“You just said I couldn’t work in the capacity of a
governess.”
“That’s correct.” Spyro touched the finger of his real hand
to his lips, looking her over. “We need a more expansive job description than
governess, something wider in scope that will cover those extra duties you’ve
been wanting me to give you. As I said, I badly misjudged you.”
Spyro Leandrou smiled at her, and in a more intimate way
than he’d ever done before.
“I owe you a big thank you for saving my son’s life, Patricia.
Your skills have been grossly underutilized.”
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