Free Burning Down the Spouse by Dakota Cassidy Page B

okay. And I’m not gonna tippy-toe around here in my own diner. My memory is bad. I forget to keep the secrets. So we just let the rabbit out of the hat and get it over with—”
    “The cat out of the bag, Mama,” Nikos corrected, his grin fond and warm enough for Frankie to feel it.
    “Yes, cats, rabbits, groundhogs. That’s not the point. The point is we cannot have Frankie here afraid she is not with people who understand.”
    Voula turned to Frankie, cupping her chin, her dark chocolate eyes warm. “You were married to a bad man, Frankie. Now you are not. We will take good care of you, but we do it without all the pretending and nicey-nice like we don’t know you did something people say is crazy. Okay?” Voula directed her question to Frankie, who’d semi-recovered.
    She set her fork down, wiping her mouth with the napkin Cosmos provided. “Okay?” She wasn’t sure if it was okay, but looking up at Voula, everything felt almost okay. Or if it wasn’t, Voula would beat it with a rolling pin until it was.
    Voula chucked her under the chin and smiled. “Yes. It’s okay now. Would have been better if you married a Greek boy to begin with, but for now, it’s okay. So finish and we begin.” With that, she strode off to a door at the other end of the kitchen, letting it close with a thunk behind her ample backside.
    Nikos eyeballed her, leaving her without much air in her lungs. His sharply planed face and luscious lips made her fingers wrap more tightly around the fork. “So Mama made you spanakopita? She doesn’t do that for just anyone, you know.”
    Frankie’s resentment at being so easily fooled seeped over the edges of her manners. “Just for loony-bin worthy women like me who make fools of themselves on television?”
    He popped his lips. “And sometimes for loony-bin worthy women who make fools of themselves on a much smaller scale. But only the really loony ones,” he teased with a grin.
    More with the funny. “You said you had no idea who I was. Imagine my surprise.”
    Nikos crossed his arms over his wide, hard chest, the dark hairs on his arms making her stomach weak. “Yeah, and I was so convincing, Spielberg called. He wants me to star in his next movie about chefs’ wives gone wild.”
    What little air she had in her lungs fled. “So you lied.”
    He sighed, making his gorgeous chest expand and deflate, drawing her eyes to it. “Yep, but I just wanted to make you more comfortable. You weren’t exactly helping yourself in that interview. I got the impression you would have peeled your own skin off to get out of my office. But I promised Max I wouldn’t let you get away with it. No need to get excited or defensive. Oh, and I’ve held off on the flyers featuring your name as the newest addition to the Antonakas diner family. In case you were worried we’d abuse your celebrity.” Nikos winked, his thick, long lashes sweeping across his cheekbone in rakish fashion.
    Frankie made a mock roll of her eyes in gratitude. “Well, thank God for that. I wasn’t sure how we’d manage to find a cage big enough for me to fit comfortably in. Plus, there’s always the hassle of the mess all those peanut shells make when it’s feeding time at the zoo.”
    Hector snickered in the background, but Cosmos laughed directly over Nikos’s shoulder. “She’s funny.”
    Nikos nodded his dark head, the sleek shine of it deserving of every woman’s envy. “That’s good. She’ll need her sense of ha-ha for Papa. He’s cranky and difficult, and he refuses to retire.”
    “And I still have no spatula,” Cosmos complained.
    “Maybe you should have more than one. You know, as a backup,” Frankie suggested, pushing the surprisingly half-empty plate away from her and rising to search for Cosmos’s spatula. It didn’t hurt to move away from the close proximity of Nikos to do it either. He smelled too good. Looked too good. Too. Good.
    “She’s not your keeper, Cos,” Nikos chided, his black eyes