Santorini Caesars by Jeffrey Siger

a table, as I try to figure out ways to make their lives more miserable than mine.”
    Francesco cocked his head and nodded toward the man with the order pad. “Is he your father?”
    â€œWhat makes you say that?”
    â€œYou have the same smile.”
    She stared at Francesco. “I get it. You’re the charming one in this crew.”
    Dimos laughed.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?” she said. “He’s here trying to hustle me while you’re waiting for the owner to get you a table and I’ve got to endure it. Can’t you two keep him busy or something? The guy’s a piece of work. Telling me I have the same smile as him ,” pointing at the owner. “Lord, have you no mercy?”
    Petro burst out laughing.
    â€œAnd what’s with you, giant man? Is the air so thin up there you can’t understand what I’m telling you? Read my lips. ‘Keep the great romancer busy and away from me.’” She pointed at Francesco. “Puh-lease.”
    Now all three cops were laughing.
    She waved to the owner, “Smiley, would you get over here and seat these three? They’re killing me.”
    â€œWhy do I feel we’re part of a show?” said Francesco.
    The owner waved for the men to come to him. “Let me spare you any more of Sappho.”
    â€œDon’t laugh,” she said. “That’s my real name. Now you know why I’m like I am. With a name like Sappho you’ve got to have a sense of humor.”
    Petro stood staring at Sappho, a grin from ear to ear.
    â€œWhat’s with you? Chow’s ready, move on.”
    Petro didn’t move.
    She pointed him toward the owner. “Go.”
    Petro didn’t move.
    With a dramatic sigh, Sappho stood and came around the desk. She was almost as tall as Petro.
    â€œSurprised you didn’t I?” She spun him around and led him by the arm over to the table where Francesco and Dimos sat.
    â€œHey, guys, you forgot one.” As she pushed him toward an open chair, she stood on her toes and whispered in his ear, “I think you’re cute,” pinched his butt, and sashayed back to her desk.
    Petro stood there, watching her walk.
    Without turning around Sappho yelled back over her shoulder. “So, tell me folks, is he watching my butt?”
    A roar of “ YES ” came up from the crowd. She spun around, sat on her stool, and smiled at Petro.
    Francesco grabbed Petro by his coat and pulled him down onto the chair. “It’s embarrassing watching you fall smitten in front of an entire restaurant full of strangers.”
    Petro looked at Francesco. “I’m just interested.”
    â€œInterested is in a menu. Smitten is in a woman.”
    â€œSo, let’s look at a menu already,” said Dimos.
    â€œDo you think she’s married?” asked Petro.
    Dimos and Francesco looked at each other.
    â€œDon’t look at me,” said Dimos. “You’re the one with the bright idea of us all going out for dinner. He’s your problem.”
    â€œAre you ready to order?” said the owner.
    â€œWhy don’t you just start bringing out the food and we’ll tell you when to stop,” said Dimos.
    â€œAnd same thing with the wine,” said Francesco, “especially the wine,” pointing to Petro.
    The owner picked up the menus. “No problem.” He patted Petro on the back as Petro stared at Sappho. “You’re a good sport. I like you.” He paused. “My wife likes you, too.”
    The blood drained from Petro’s face and he turned to face the man.
    â€œI’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know she was your wife.”
    He patted Petro on the shoulder again. “Not Sappho, the one over there watching you from the kitchen.” He pointed to a plump, dark-haired woman standing in the doorway behind Sappho.
    The woman smiled and Sappho laughed.
    But not as much as Francesco and Dimos.
    ***
    The