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Greek Boss, Dream Proposal
Barbara McMahon
Table of Contents
Barbara McMahon was born and raised in the South USA, but settled in California after spending a year flying around the world for an international airline. After settling down to raise a family and work for a computer firm, she began writing when her children started school. Now, feeling fortunate in being able to realise a long-held dream of quitting her ‘day job’ and writing full time, she and her husband have moved to the Sierra Nevada mountains of California, where she finds her desire to write is stronger than ever. With the beauty of the mountains visible from her windows, and the pace of life slower than the hectic San Francisco Bay Area where they previously resided, she finds more time than ever to think up stories and characters and share them with others through writing. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at PO Box 977, Pioneer, CA 95666-0977, USA. Readers can also contact Barbara at her website: www.barbaramcmahon.com
Dear Reader
Come with me to an adventure in the beautiful land of Greece. It’s long been a place of fascination for me, and I dream about going there one day to soak up the sunshine and beauty of the landscape. To lie on pristine beaches and tour historic sites. Until that time, I use the places I’ve visited around the Med to picture how sailing the Aegean would be, how the breezes would feel and how the dynamic and gorgeous Greek men would look. What would be more fun than to travel the Aegean in a luxury yacht, visit quaint isles for their history, or colourful markets with fabulous bargains? All on the arm of a sexy Greek man, of course. As a vacation locale, could we find a better spot? So, come visit Greece with Sara and Nikos, and be swept away on a mini-holiday that will give you the feel of an exotic land we may all one day see.
Love
Barbara
To Ruth Johnson, with love and friendship. You make being in the NSDAR even more special!
CHAPTER ONE
SARA ANDROPOLOUS leaned over to view the pastry from all angles. It looked perfect. Satisfied, she slid it onto one of the delicate china plates and drizzled a bit of honey on top. Two mint leaves completed the presentation and she smiled. One down, five more to do in less than five minutes.
Working swiftly, she finished the last in less than the allotted time. Perfection.
She’d been on her feet for five hours, yet she felt as fresh as if she’d just started. She loved creating works of art for consumption. Time flew, and she was absorbed in her work to the exclusion of all else.
“See how this pleases your guests,” she murmured in a one-sided imaginary conversation with Nikos Konstantinos.
When Sara had first arrived in Greece four months ago, her temporary assignment at the τραγο´υϖδι αο´ερα, Windsong Hotel, several miles from Thessalonika had seemed like an answer to prayer. She’d been trying to find a way to get a toehold in Greece for so long, it was amazing to her how swiftly things had fallen into place. No one suspected her real intent. The sudden opportunity to move to Greece had been impossible to refuse. She’d left her friends, sublet her flat, and headed for the Aegean with one thought in mind—find a way to make contact with her grandmother, Eleani Konstantinos.
As the yacht gently bobbed on the sea, Sara wondered for the nth time if she were really any closer to her goal. It had seemed meant to be when her friend Stacy had discovered that Sara’s grandmother had remarried and found where she had been living all these years. When Stacy had then told her five months ago about an opening at the exclusive Greek resort owned by the grandson of the man her grandmother had married, Sara had applied instantly for the job. Amazingly, she’d been hired within two weeks of her first interview. Being Greek herself and knowing the language had been a big plus. But she also liked to think her accomplishments had commanded the attention of the interviewer. The lavish salary she was getting indicated they expected no less than outstanding work.
So far things had progressed better than she’d expected. After only four months in Greece, it was nothing short of miraculous that she’d been promoted to temporary chef on Nikos Konstantinos’s luxury yacht. With any luck, at some point, they would put in at the island his family owned—the key to getting to her grandmother. How she was to accomplish the next step was beyond her at the moment. Still, she was closer than ever. Time would present the opportunity she needed.
Stretching her muscles, she placed the desserts on the elegant silver tray and put it on the open area of the counter where the steward would pick it up to deliver to the guests in the main dining salon. It was after nine and she was just about finished for the day. She felt revved up, wide-awake and not at all ready to go to bed, though she’d been up before six every morning to prepare breakfast.
The
