Nights Like This

Chapter 72

Metty laid on her bed for hours. She had left Alexei a voice mail saying she was ill and couldn't go to Folly Beach. She knew she needed to call him and talk. The very thought of talking to him about the article made her nauseous. She had not answered any of Alexei's calls or responded to or even read any of his texts. She checked her phone. Wearily, she read the last text. 'Coming to Mrs. Magyari's house. We must talk.' Heart emoji.

She sat up, and through a fresh burst of tears, called him. He answered on the first ring.

"Metty?"

"Yes, Alexei." She dreaded to hear what he would say.

"Cara, you've seen the Olympiakos World, haven't you?"

She nodded, then realizing he couldn't hear, "I'm sorry."

"What for? You've done nothing you shouldn't. I'm almost out of the city and will be at your grandmother's soon. You're there, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Wait for me. Light's green. Love you."

She got up and went to the bathroom. She washed her face. She looked awful, face blotchy and red-eyed. She found her mother in the kitchen, cooking dinner.

Her mother looked at her. "I thought you were going to the beach with Alexei for a few days.

"It's off." Metty prayed her mother wouldn't gloat.

Sylvia forced down a smile. "You break up?"

"Not yet. Look at this paper." She handed her mother The Olympiakos World open to the article on her, featuring her tipsy mother being helped into the car.

Her mother looked it over, once, then again. Sylvia frowned. She tossed her hair. "Marco should have been more careful. That girl." She shook her head. "Tsk."

"Mom, you got drunk at dinner with Biden and Prince Sebastian."

Sylvia pouted and shrugged. "I wasn't drunk. I was tired. How'd they get those pictures? Who told them this stuff?"

"I don't know. I'm sure the Prince didn't have anything to do with it. Alexei's on his way here to talk things over."

Sylvia looked at Metty, trying to gauge her feelings. She needed Metty's help, especially with Bryan gone. She didn't want to live alone, or be dependent on June.

The doorbell rang.

"That's Alexei. You may need to apologize to him."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Sylvia mumbled. "Just a drink or two."

"You got drunk. If we hadn't been photographed by that paparazzo, it might not matter." The doorbell rang again, then Alexei knocked.

"Coming." She left the kitchen.

She opened the door. Alexei stood there, composed but looking at her carefully.

"Hello, Alexei." She stepped aside. He took her in his arms and she almost burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, Alexei. It's so embarrassing."

He let her weep for a minute before handing her a tissue. She wiped her eyes.

"We must talk this over. The family has just been on the phone with the Household Staff. Marco was summoned home from the Naval Academy. Popi, well, where can we talk privately?" he glanced at Sylvia, listening from the kitchen door, then back to Metty.

She led him to her bedroom and they sat on her bed.

"What upsets you so?"

"This mess. It's so shameful."

"Your mother or Marco?"

She looked at him. She thought for a moment.

"I hardly know Madison. She's said maybe 75 words to me in her life. I don't, can't, feel I'm involved with Marco and Madison." She looked up at him, teary-eyed, and took his hand." I know it hurts your family. The article on me. My mother." Her insides crawled, and she felt nauseous again. "Who could have told the press she got so drunk at dinner?"

"She wasn't that drunk." Alexei shrugged. "The family understands she has had a difficult few months and is unfamiliar with our ways." Alexei was tactful. "She's not the first to need a nap. She won't be the last." He smiled at her and patted her hand. "It will be well if she doesn't attend such events until she is more comfortable with us."

"But the pictures? Who took them?"

Alexei frowned. "Nuño Oranillo. Paparazzo. This isn't the first time he's (Alexei made air quote marks) "exposed" our family. Marco came here to get away from publicity for his affairs. We didn't know Nuño had come to Charleston."

"He got me, too."

He said gently, "Our relationship is of interest to Almurians. We hadn't thought to go public yet, but it's out of our hands."

"Do you still want to see me?"

"Do I? First thing in the morning when I open my eyes. Drinking my morning tea. When I'm trying to remember where on earth I left my car keys."

She smiled and he smiled back.

"You spoke of my rich, wonderful life. This is the dark side. Bad publicity, every little indiscretion blown up. Our lives, my family's lives are important to our people and our country, so we must share them. You must learn to handle public life in our relationship. There will be bad days and good days."

She looked at him for a long relaxing moment. She loved him, and her heart was whole. "I'll try. I'll learn. Help me."

He nodded. "Let's go to the beach, OK? I must warn you, Oranillo may show up there. But Marco is the grand prize."

She nodded, feeling better than she had since she'd gotten the newspaper from that vicious girl. They got up.

"Are those your suitcases?"

She nodded. He carried them from the bedroom.

In the kitchen, Sylvia watched them come, her eyes switching between Metty, Alexei, and the suitcases, as though unsure which one to watch. Alexei set the suitcases down.

"Mrs. Griffin, please understand you must not discuss the article and pictures from the Dalmurias dinner with anyone. Ever. For any reason. Do not discuss my relationship with Metty. It's essential that you do not. Your son and daughter must keep silent too, and the boys. Bryan is a wild card, but we will deal with him when we must."

She looked unsure of herself, but she nodded.

"I must repeat how important it is for you to make no comment, other than you attended the dinner with your daughter."

Sylvia looked miserable.

"My cousin, Ava Reynolds, will call you. Remember, you met her?"

Sylvia nodded.

"Fabiola Carraldo, from the Palace Press Office, and Ava would like to meet with you, to discuss how to help you deal with any press. Will you help us help you?"

Sylvia nodded. "Yes. I'll try to help." She wondered what Metty had done to get out of this one.

He nodded. "Thank you. We are in this together, and your cooperation is vital. Metty and I are going to spend our vacation at the beach. Tell no one the address or phone numbers there, OK? Just say we'll be back soon and refer them to the Consulate." He held her eyes until she looked away.

"Of course not." Sylvia looked relieved.