No Such Thing as Evil

Chapter ΣΤʹ

"Fantastic! A limousine!" squealed Chelsea. She ran to the curb, pivoted so her back was against the shiny black metal, and flung her arms out wide. "Take my picture! Take my picture!"

"Oh, honestly, dear," said Chelsea's mom from her wheelchair as Evangelos pushed it out the airport doors.

Judging from Evangelos's smile, Chelsea knew he didn't mind the performance.

"Oh, Mum, don't be so sour." Chelsea dashed forward, thrust her percomm in Evangelos's hand, dashed back to the limo, and took up the exact same pose.

Gregory, the Venizelos family chauffeur, had greeted them at the VIP gate. Now he stood by, flanked by a small army of porters hauling luggage. Gregory must be fiftyish, judging by the silver hair at the temples, like strokes of pencil on black paper. Chelsea knew she had a body that could make old men cry, but there wasn't a crack in his professionalism. The young porters behind him, however, were another story.

"Again! Again!" Chelsea bent one leg and put her hand on her hip, achieving a dramatic curve, one of her favorites. Two of the porters exchanged appreciative glances.

Evangelos lowered the percomm. "All right, that's enough." To Chelsea's mom, he said, "Here, Margaret, let me help you up."

Gregory opened the boot, and the porters got to work.

"She's just like her father, you know," said her mom, holding Evangelos's hand as he guided her to a seat inside the limo.

Chelsea stepped to the middle of the sidewalk, threw her arms out, and twirled. "Greece! I can't believe we're here!" A group of weary travelers gave her a wide berth as they passed.

Gregory held out his percomm to the porters, and each took a turn touching their percomms to his. They seemed thrilled with the amount of the gratuity.

This is going to be fabulous! She twirled again.

"Quite right," said Evangelos. "Come now; there's more to see." Like the string of an escaping balloon, he caught one of her hands and pulled her to the limo.

"Sir, we should get everyone inside," said Gregory as he collapsed the wheelchair.

"Doesn't he work for you?" she asked Evangelos discreetly. "Bit of a hen."

"No, it's not like that. Come on, get inside."

The limo pulled away from the curb and headed for the exit checkpoint. The limo was just as Chelsea had imagined it every time she'd seen a celebrity get in or out of one. Gregory sat in front, but he wasn't really driving, of course. He was tapping away at his percomm. Anticipating Evangelos's every whim, no doubt.

"Margaret, I hope the flight from London to Thessaloniki wasn't too exhausting," said Evangelos.

"Not at all. Evangelos, we've only just arrived, and I simply can't tell you how magical this trip has been already."

"May I offer you a refreshment?" asked Evangelos. A panel opened, revealing a wide array of spirits.

"Oh yes! Let's have a refreshment!" said Chelsea.

Her mom rolled her eyes.

"For goodness' sake, Mother, your attitude is fit to mix with whiskey." Chelsea sat up on the edge of her seat. Just the word refreshment was intoxicating.

"Your lifestyle is certainly different from ours," said her mom. "I simply can't imagine what it was like for you to grow up in such grandeur. And to know what a kind and considerate young man you've grown up to be. My respect for your family grows with every passing moment. I can't wait to meet them."