My Big Fake Green-Card Wedding. Mollie Molay

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      Melina’s antenna quivered as the elevator stopped one more time to let a passenger out before continuing on up to the roof. Myriad thoughts raced through Melina’s mind.

      A housekeeper? The position had to be, as her American colleagues frequently said, a piece of cake. As a dutiful Greek daughter, she was well versed in taking care of a home…. She’d learned to cook for five people…How difficult could feeding two people be?

      A nanny? As the only girl in her family, she’d often helped her mother with the care of her two younger brothers. For the past two years she’d also taught Greek language to young embassy children and, in the process, had wiped more than a few runny noses. How different could the job of a nanny to one child be?

      Here was her chance to get her heart’s desire and still be able to put off her father’s demand that she marry, she thought. It was worth a try.

      The elevator, empty except for Melina, her two friends and the two men behind her, finally reached the roof garden. Tables, shaded against the afternoon sun by dark green umbrellas, were surrounded by pots of colorful flowers and vine-covered trellises. The scent of warm food at the buffet table filled the air.

      Eleni poked her in the ribs. “We’re here,” she whispered. “Go ahead. Now is your chance.”

      Her chance? Had Eleni overheard the men’s conversation and put one and one together? Had Eleni read her mind?

      Melina was so engrossed in preparing a logical approach to the American that one of the two men exiting the elevator bumped into her.

      “Ah, Melina Kostos! I thought that was you!”

      Melina pulled her wayward thoughts together. “Uh, hello, Peter. I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking. How are you?”

      “Excellent,” he said with a broad smile. “Even better now that I’ve met you again. Come, let me introduce you to my American friend, Adam Blake.”

      Peter Stakis was a friendly sort and a member of the Greek embassy’s trade office. Peter often visited the American embassy on business. He was also a good friend of her family’s. “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Blake.”

      “Likewise,” the American businessman said, an admiring look in his eyes.

      To Melina’s relief he looked approachable. She decided to come right out with it. To talk to him frankly and to solicit his cooperation. It was just a matter of finding the right way to say what she wanted to say without appearing the complete fool.

      She was about to introduce her friends when Eleni grabbed Arianna’s arm and made for an empty table. “We’ll see you later!”

      Peter raised an eyebrow at their abrupt departure, shrugged, and gestured to the buffet table offering up hot food, salads, sandwiches and drinks. “Since it appears you are now alone, will you join us for lunch, Melina?”

      “Thank you, I would like to.” Melina couldn’t figure out how Eleni had known which elevator to take for Melina to meet her destiny, but she was grateful. Even more so when Eleni had had the foresight to take Arianna and leave. Now, to find a way to get rid of Peter before she made her pitch. The fewer people who overheard her, the better. Especially someone who knew her family.

      The scents of pita-wrapped sandwiches and the traditional Greek salad of cucumbers, walnuts and tomatoes pulled her to the buffet table. Maybe, she prayed silently, her stomach would stop fluttering if it were full.

      “Salad, please,” she told the server. “With just a bit of oil and vinegar dressing.”

      “Is that all you’re going to eat?” the American asked as he hovered over a tray of moussaka.

      Melina glanced at the inviting displays of cold cucumber pita sandwiches and the container of hot moussaka. Never mind the chocolate chip cookies and the baklava that begged for her attention. It all looked delicious. But the truth was, she was too nervous to eat. It wasn’t every day a woman came face-to-face with her destiny.

      “I usually don’t eat much at noon,” she answered, gesturing for a glass of iced tea.

      Peter’s American friend didn’t seem to have a problem with food, she thought enviously as she watched him ask for a double helping of moussaka. Like all Greek girls, she’d been raised to know how to cook for a family. If she wound up as Adam Blake’s housekeeper, she vowed, he would never lack the Greek food he seemed to favor.

      “How are your parents, your brothers, Melina?” Peter asked as they were seated.

      “Fine, thank you,” she said, sipping her iced tea to take her mind off Adam Blake’s clear hazel eyes, the deep cleft in his square jaw and his innate sensuality. How in heaven’s name could she be attracted to a man she’d just noticed but had never been introduced to before? “Busy with the family pistachio business.”

      “Good, good. You have a fine family, Melina. I shall have to visit them soon and pay my respects to your father.” Melina blinked and hoped the visit wouldn’t take place too soon.

      She gathered enough information during lunch to learn that Adam Blake was a U.S. importer of such Greek products as extra-virgin olive oil and fine wines. Which meant, unfortunately, that he traveled a great deal. It was no wonder that he was dismayed at having to take over the care of his little daughter.

      Just as well, Melina thought, that he wasn’t going to be around every day or she’d be a basket case. She caught him eyeing the way she nervously played with the top button on her blouse. Though she tried to return his gaze casually, she couldn’t seem to keep her fingers still under his stare. To add to her problem, his blatant masculinity sent her mind down paths a woman who wanted to apply for the job as his housekeeper had no right to tread. She had to approach the man with a business proposition—no more, no less.

      It wasn’t until the men were into their dessert that Melina had gathered enough courage to speak her mind. The honeyed scent of the slice of baklava pastry wafted across the table.

      She took a deep breath. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Blake, but I overheard you in the elevator telling Peter you are looking for someone to help you take care of your young daughter.”

      “Why yes, I guess I am.” Adam looked at her with growing interest. “Why, do you know someone who might be interested?”

      Melina wiped her dry lips with her paper napkin. “Yes, I do. Me.”

      Adam Blake looked as if she’d hit him right between the eyes with a brick. Compared to the train that suddenly seemed to roar through her already queasy stomach, it was a mild reaction. “You?”

      “Yes, me,” she repeated firmly, and took another deep swallow of iced tea.

      “Why?” Adam frowned and glanced around the patio. “I thought you worked here at the embassy.”

      “I do, for now. Actually, my position is being eliminated—for financial reasons.”

      “You want a position as a housekeeper?” Adam Blake repeated cautiously. “That would be quite a change for you, wouldn’t it?”

      “Perhaps,” Melina answered quietly, trying to still the inner voice that was cautioning her to go slowly. “I СКАЧАТЬ