Cocktails for Three by Madeleine Wickham Page A

in Cyprus. She had also visited enough new property developments to be able to write a comprehensive survey for the property pages of one of the national newspapers. And for one of their rivals, under a pseudonym, she would pen a lighthearted diary-type piece on living in Cyprus as an expatriate.The
Londoner
had funded half the cost of her trip— with these extra pieces of work she would more than pay for the rest of it. Nice work if you can get it, she thought idly, and began to hum softly to herself.
    â€œYou are enjoying the sun,” came a voice beside her and she looked up. Nico Georgiou was pulling a chair out and sitting down at the table. He was an elegant man in his middle years, always well dressed; always impeccably polite. The quieter, more reserved of the two Georgiou brothers.
    She had met them both on her first trip to Cyprus, when she had been sent to cover the opening of their new hotel, the Aphrodite Bay. Since then, she had never stayed anywhere else in Cyprus, and over the years, had got to know Nico and his brother Andreas well. Between them, they owned three of the major hotels on the island, and a fourth was currently under construction.
    â€œI adore the sun,” said Roxanne now, smiling. “And I adore the Aphrodite Bay.” She looked around. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed my stay here.”
    â€œAnd we have, as always, enjoyed having you,” said Nico. He lifted a hand, and a waiter came rushing to attention.
    â€œAn espresso, please,” said Nico, and glanced at Roxanne. “And for you?”
    â€œNothing else, thanks,” said Roxanne. “I have to leave soon.”
    â€œI know,” said Nico. “I will drive you to the airport.”
    â€œNico! I’ve booked a taxi.”
    â€œAnd I have unbooked it,” said Nico, smiling. “I want to talk to you, Roxanne.”
    â€œReally?” said Roxanne. “What about?”
    Nico’s coffee arrived and he waited for the waiter to retreat before he spoke again.
    â€œYou have been to visit our new resort, the Aphrodite Falls.”
    â€œI’ve seen the construction site,” said Roxanne. “It looks very impressive. All those waterfalls.”
    â€œIt will be impressive,” said Nico. “It will be unlike anything previously seen in Cyprus.”
    â€œGood!” said Roxanne. “I can’t wait till it opens.” She grinned at him. “If you don’t invite me to the launch party you’re in trouble.” Nico laughed, then picked up his coffee spoon and began to balance it on his cup.
    â€œThe Aphrodite Falls is a very high-profile project,” he said, and paused. “We will be looking for a . . . a dynamic person to run the launch and marketing of the resort. A person with talent. With energy. With contacts in journalism . . .” There was silence, and Nico looked up. “Someone, perhaps, who enjoys the Mediterranean way of life,” he said slowly, meeting Roxanne’s eyes. “Someone, perhaps, from Britain?”
    â€œMe?” said Roxanne disbelievingly. “You can’t be serious.”
    â€œI am utterly serious,” said Nico. “My brother and I would be honoured if you would join our company.”
    â€œBut I don’t know anything about marketing! I don’t have any qualifications, any training—”
    â€œRoxanne, you have more intelligence and flair than any of these so-called qualified people,” said Nico, gesturing disparagingly. “I have hired these people. The training seems to dull their wits. Young people go into college with ideas and enthusiasm, and come out with only flip-charts and ridiculous jargon.”
    Roxanne laughed. “You do have a point.”
    â€œWe would provide accommodation for you,” said Nico, leaning forward. “The salary would be, I think, generous.”
    â€œNico—”
    â€œAnd, of course, we would expect