Truly, Madly, Greekly

Mandy Baggot

Description

Sun, sea and a sexy stranger – a whole lot of fun just got a lot more complicated

Capable, confident and career-driven, Ellen had her dream job and a marriage proposal from boyfriend Ross. Life was good, her future set. Until it wasn’t and everything fell apart…

Whisked off to the beautiful island of Corfu to plan her sister Lacey’s big, fat, Greek wedding, Ellen is hoping some time out will help clear her head and heal her heart. But letting go of her past is not going to be easy.

With Lacey in full-on Bridezilla mode, Ellen is soon distracted from her own problems. And when the all-inclusive treats on offer at hotel Blue Vue include one gorgeous, brooding Adonis – Yan – Ellen finds him difficult to resist.

But Ellen isn’t looking for love or lust, or anything involving too much ouzo…or is she?

'A really cool story with poignant moments and lots of sunshine. Loved it!' Patricia Wilson, author of An Island Promise

Originally published in 2015

Sujets

• Sea Stories
• Holidays
• Siblings
• Corfú
• Friendship
• SpongeBob SquarePants
• Central Greece
• Romantic Comedy
• Sibling
• Corfu
• Holiday
• International
• Greece
• Family Life
• Romance
• Corfou
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 22 mai 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781785139413
• Langue: English

Extrait

TRULY, MADLY, GREEKLY


MANDY BAGGOT
CONTENTS



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Epilogue


Acknowledgments

Letter From Mandy

More from Mandy Baggot

About the Author

About Boldwood Books
To my soulmate, my rock, the man who first took me to Corfu and the one person who always believes in my dreams, no matter how crazy others think they might be!
This one’s for you, Mr Big.
1

She was on a plane. She was going on holiday. Ellen Brooks took another breath. She had to relax. Breathe slower. Less tantric, more sukhasana. Slowly… slowly…
Turbulence buffeted the aircraft and she snapped her eyes open, trying to regain balance. How had this happened? How had she gone from wringing the life out of the Inland Revenue, in a meeting that was still referred to in Taxation magazine, to counting backwards to keep calm? Had every shred of her former self disappeared the second she’d stopped being able to afford power shoes? She missed her Louboutins more than she missed fine wine. And she practically got the shakes over that.
Ellen put both hands onto the back of the seat in front of her, closing her eyes and holding on. Focus. Confidence. Imagine you are a tree.
It was just no good. She felt as far from relaxed as some thought Neil Armstrong had been from the moon. She needed professional help or Paul McKenna himself. Neither of which she could afford. Hypnosis was definitely going on her bucket list. Along with trekking over the Andes and having a go at Segway. When she recovered. When she got herself back in the game and moved on from the doormat phase of her life. Which didn’t seem likely yet. She wasn’t even close.
Opening her eyes again, she looked out of the window. Here she was, travelling over mountains somewhere in Europe, thousands of feet up in the air heading for sun, sea and all-inclusive portions of everything, and all she could visualise was her desk. The desk she did secret overtime on. The desk she read 50 Ways to Cope with Hyperventilation on.
The largest desk in the office, equipped with more stationery than Ryman, and heaving with paperwork she didn’t care about. Plus, the locked drawer hiding all her secrets.
She’d never had secrets until recently. A few short months ago she’d been relatively sane and not at all embroiled in anything she shouldn’t be. She’d had a career path, her future all mapped out. Now everything was on the verge of imploding. Breaking rules and order had never been in her nature. She strived for things and she worked hard. Determination and perseverance always won the day. Until the day you took your eye off the ball and got trampled on.
Another uncomfortable sensation rocked her sideways. More turbulence. Ellen put both hands to her pounding head, letting her fingers massage the scalp. She knew she’d left something out of her holiday notes but she had no idea what.
‘When the drinks trolley gets to you, get me something alcoholic. Anything will do, but not cider ’cause it gives me wind!’
Tranquillity was lost. She sighed. It was her sister Lacey’s bloody fault she was on this plane.
‘Apples don’t agree with me,’ Lacey called. ‘Do they do shots?’
Ellen cringed, looking at the woman sat next to Lacey with sympathy.
Lacey was getting married. Not until next year, but these days weddings had to be planned so far in advance even the Gregorian calendar had a job to keep up. So far, Lacey had pushed Ellen around stately homes, castles, churches and racecourses until her sister realised the only way she was going to guarantee blue sky and sun was to have the wedding abroad.
Rhodes had been the island of choice until the hardback brochure for the Hotel Blue Vue, Agios Spyridon, Corfu arrived. Glossy pages full of picturesque scenes of the mountains of Albania, the azure seas, the sandy beach, a close-up of Bougainvillea table settings and the one photo Lacey hadn’t stopped going on about.
‘You get married on a platform in the sea. Actually in the water, Ellie. Well, on the water. You know, “at one” with the ocean.’
‘Like a whale?’ she’d offered.
After the photo of the water platform, the thrown-petal walkway and the olive tree avenue, Rhodes was nothing more than a once-mentioned idea and Hotel Blue Vue, Corfu was where Lacey and Mark were going to exchange their vows. Provided this taster holiday went well.
Mrs McGoldrick . That was who she’d forgotten from her holiday notes. Posh, picky and a complete pain in the arse. Perhaps she could send a quick text to her assistant, Milo. Could you send texts in flight mode? Calm. Imagine you are a boat adrift on the ocean.
Ellen pulled in a breath, rolled then straightened her shoulders. I am not a flake. I could organise and strategise for Lord Sugar if he asked.
‘Can you get me some snacks, too?’ Lacey bellowed.
Ellen squeezed her eyes tight shut. The last thing she needed was to be out of the office with a Bridezilla. She turned her head to look at Lacey. Earphones inserted, leafing through Heat , her newly coloured platinum blonde hair sat on her shoulders, which were already brown thanks to a course of sunbed sessions. Instead of the deep frustration she expected, a pang of love washed over her. Why was she complaining? It was her job to suck all this up. She was all Lacey had.
‘Not those crisps that smell like fish though,’ Lacey yelled.
‘Lacey!’
‘What?’
‘Turn it down!’
Lacey shook her head. ‘There’s no way you can hear my music from there.’
‘I meant your voice.’
This was what happened when you were the elder half-sibling and neither of you had a mother to lean on. Ellen turned her attention back to the sky outside. A ‘routine’ operation had claimed her mother and suddenly her dad, Al, was a widower.
Al had hated being alone and was no good at it. Seven years later, still struggling to look after Ellen, he’d remarried. Margarette. Who had modelled herself on Maleficent. Nine months on and there was Lacey. A half-sister to chew Ellen’s favourite toys and puke over everything else.
Before Lacey’s second birthday, Margarette had run off with another man and Al was alone again, this time with two daughters. Ellen traced the outline of the plane window. No, their dad might be paying for the wedding but he couldn’t be expected to organise it. His priorities lay with making sure there was ‘proper British grub’ at the reception and plenty of Elvis numbers for the karaoke. And that’s why the hand-holding and wedding planning was very much weighing heavily on Ellen’s shoulders.
‘Would you like something?’ the flight attendant asked.
Ellen opened her eyes again and tried to remember Lacey’s demands.
‘Two gin and tonics and a snack pack, please.’
‘Not gin!’ Lacey shouted.
‘One gin and tonic then, and a beer.’
‘Not beer if it’s in a tin!’
‘Sorry, one gin and tonic, a snack pack, a white wine and an update on the current penalty for murder in European airspace.’
‘Not long to go now,’ the flight attendant answered with a smile.
‘No, just seven nights, forty-five minutes and a two-hour coach transfer.’ She wrenched open the bottle of gin.
‘Have they got any chocolate?’ Lacey called.
2

Yan stood up, the crystal water tracking down his body. Drips and silver slivers channelled down his neck and shoulders, trailing southward. It had been another scorching day and the sun was only just disappearing behind the island.
He smoothed the water over his chest, across his abs and lower down, watching it bounce back into the pool. Running his hands over his close-cropped hair, he roughed it a little, enjoying the sensation. For a second he could forget, have one long breath where everything calmed. But then, as always, a dart of reality stung him back into place. He shook his head.
At least here, in the pool, he felt some sense of peace. The water cooling him down from the daytime heat, isolated, without the hordes of holidaymakers invading every space. Here he could relax enough to take stock, evaluate everything that had happened. So much heartache. Leaving behind everything he knew again. This time he had taken nothing but bitter words and bad memories. Why did the bad always override the good? There were softer memories there too, there had been times of joy. Those were what he had to cling to now. Those memories were the ones that were going to make him stronger. They were what his dreams were made of.
Pulling himself up and out of the pool he shook the water from his fingertips and looked across at the pastel-coloured buildings in front of him.
It had been two months since he had arrived here and he still wasn’t used to it. Corfu and the hotel were so much more than a job to him. He hadn’t just left his home country, he had escaped. Here, was the start of a new life.
He grabbed his towel from the sun lounger and wiped down his body. You are worthless . He shook his head, remembering his hatred of the city and the life he’d been thrown into. The lone option he’d had was to run. Sometimes, to get a second chance, that was just the only way out.



* * *
‘What time is it? It looks like everything’s shut,’ Lacey yelled at the top of her voice.
They’d arrived and while Lacey was checking out the glass-fronted Blue Vue Hotel for signs of life, Ellen was le