Surrender: The Greek Affair Series Book One by Diana Karezi Read Free Book Online Page A

food that can only be eaten with the hands.
    The bus boy has already covered the table with butcher’s paper (that has the name of the establishment printed on it) and brought to the table the mandatory basket of bread, which also contains the cutlery. There is a pitcher of cold water. Greeks drink a lot of water and Hope often wonders where the endless amount of very cold water comes from, served to all the tables over a long drawn out ritualistic length of time taken to eating, amongst the patrons.
    The waiter comes over and rattles off the specials and the recommendations. It’s an art to be able to do this and some waiters seem to have that slippery, silver tongue, and tonight it’s one of these. Anika and Hope let Gianni put their menu together, even though he asks what they would like to eat. It was easier this way.
    They order a bottle of white wine, native to this island (although popular all over Greece now), glasses arrive, and so too does the first cold mezé an array of dips; tirokafterí (a cheese dip that is spicy hot), a shrimp dip and a delicious red pepper dip, to mop up the alcohol, as it is a habit not to drink on an empty stomach in Greek culinary culture.
    They settle back, fill their glasses, and clink them together.
    “Stin iyiá mas.” (To our health)
    Giánni looks over at Hope with a mischievous glint in his eye, “So what’s with the guy who greeted you?” The question surprises Hope and she feels herself heating up and feels vulnerable all of a sudden.
    “What? Nothing.” Fiddling with her paper napkin, as she tends to do, (and usually make flowers out of them when she is out eating).
    “He did not look as if it was nothing.”
    “Ah Giánni, how can you tell what he looks like from this far away!” she is irritated, but in a strange way not offended by his curiosity.
    “He held your hands, and looked into your eyes; your body language gave away both of you.”
    She laughs and it’s a nervous laugh at that, “Giánni, he is too young.”
    With this Anika’s eyebrows raise as she points at Giánni and herself with her finger going back and forth between themselves.
    “What are you on about?” She exclaims with that cultured northern European, slightly accented, perfect English. They had a substantial age difference from what Hope can tell, Anika being older.
    “You’re making weak excuses, ‘Do I like him?’, should be the question on your mind.” says Anika with an irritated tone in her voice.
    “Guys, I don’t know yet. I’ll see.”
    And with that, Hope dismisses any further conversation about the beautiful man with the deep green eyes and moves on to other topics. She finds out that Giánni will be moving to Belgium to live with Anika at the end of the Summer and he will try to find work there. “Wow,” thinks Hope, “How brave on her part and on his too”.
    The food is spectacular, as usual. They sit for hours eating, drinking and talking. The evening is warm but as it is always, the sea breeze brushes their cheeks and bare skin and cools them.
    There is nothing like a summer night on a Greek island; the stars, the breeze, the atmosphere of people being out of their homes en- masse. It plays on the senses in ways that Hope has not experienced anywhere else. It is these comfort zones inherent in a holiday on a Greek island, that makes her wary of what she sees in Jason.
    But tonight, she is busy, concentrating on the table. The food is typical of this island, with an abundance of seafood and vegetables. There is so much colour laid out in front of them. The black-eyed string beans make up one of the salads with olive oil and lemon, sprinkled with fresh mint and dill, Greeks consume an incredible amount of olive oil and lemons. The local cheese ( kalatháki , meaning basket , as it is formed in a small basket), can be fried and served with fresh lemon. There are the zucchini and eggplant fritters with skordaliá (garlic sauce made with potato, almonds and olive oil).