Excerpt of An Inkling of Evil by Kari Lee Townsend

“Frona, put that down.” My short, plump YiaYia Dido with her long gray hair in her standard bun and ever-present apron tied around her waist ran after my cousin.

Frona bounced around the room on a pogo stick with baby Jesus from the manger strapped to her back. “Jingle bells, baby smells, Ru-dolphin swam away,” she sang over and over, her cockeyed pigtails bouncing to the beat.

She’d fallen off an apple cart when she was a child and had never been the same, but she was happy. She worked as a dishwasher in my parents’ restaurant, and her sister Eleni worked as a waitress. Leni had waist length dark curly hair and was one of the most eligible bachelorettes in Clearview.

But tonight, everyone was there to enjoy my parents’ annual holiday party and not work.

Nik’s ma was there, hobbling about on crutches after falling on the ice. She’d needed knee surgery and Captain Quincy Crenshaw had been by her side every step of the way, doting on her. Aunt Tasoula was there with her latest man, Tate Hemsworth, who happened to be Ma’s ex from high school. Eleni and Nik’s cousin Thalia were still single and ready to mingle. The problem was they were related to half the town since both of our families made up a considerable amount of its citizens.

There weren’t many fish left in Clearview’s sea.

“Why you two stand in corner?” Ma asked Nik and me, her big poof of teased black hair more impressive than ever. She smoothed her flashy polyester pantsuit before adding, “Go make merry. You no happy?”

“I value my life, Ma,” I said, watching Aunt Tasoula take a shot of Ouzo and shout, “Opa!” before smashing a plate, her way-too-long hair and too-tight clothes drawing more attention than the flying pieces of porcelain.

The smashing of plates was a famous Greek tradition. When people were having a great time, they smashed plates to show their joy and appreciation for the music being played. If there had been live entertainment, the guests would toss flowers. Tonight, it was all about the plates.

At my parents’ restaurant, all bets were off.

“Value, Schmalue…it’s tradition.” Ma talked with her hands, her beehive of hair swaying with every word.

“Hi, Ophelia, thank you so much for inviting me to the party. I’ve never been to anything like this before.” Jasper came to a stop by Ma.

“You call me Ma. You my son now.” She patted his chest and then swiped her hand through the air. “That’s that.”

Jasper looked at me with raised brows. I knew he felt like he was intruding on my family, but he wasn’t. I was happy to have a sibling, and I could tell he wanted to be a part of our family more than anything. I smiled and winked at him, and then he relaxed.

“Now go eat. You too skinny.” Ma shooed him away.

“I don’t want to be a glutton. You have other guests.”

“Bah. They family not guests. You Greek now. We Greeks never run out of food. Now go join your cousins by the food table. Shoo shoo.”

I laughed. “Don’t try to fight it. You won’t win.”

“She’s right, man.” Nik rubbed his over-full stomach and groaned.

“Well, all right, then.” Jasper walked away with steps lighter than anytime I had seen him since we first met.

Delilah Doolittle, our local party planner, carried a stack of dessert plates as she stopped by Ma. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know the cake is here.” She leaned in close. “I have to say it’s a work of art.”

Delilah was a petite strawberry-blond woman with catlike pale-green eyes. A bubbly dynamo of a woman who was great at her job. She had her assistant, Cameron Oswald, special order a themed cake that was a replica of my parents’ restaurant, right down to the last detail with the Christmas boat displayed as well. The owner’s men had damaged the original masterpiece when setting it up that morning, so the Cake King had personally recreated the cake and was setting it up himself with Cameron’s help.

“It should be a work of art for what I’m paying.” Ma nodded once. “Tell him I’ll be back in a minute.”

Delilah nodded and started to leave when the front door burst open.

The music stopped and everyone stared, wide eyed. Even Frona stopped bouncing. My parents holiday party was closed to the public. Everyone knew that. It was a special event for the entire Ballas family, and this year, a special invitation went out to Nik’s Pagonis Greek family as well. That was why Ma had gone all out.

Greek pride and a healthy dose of competition.

My mind drifted away from that and locked onto the spectacle playing out before me. A man stood in the doorway with his legs spread wide apart and his hands on his hips. He had to be six-foot-five with shoulders that filled the entrance. His shoulder-length, dark-blond hair fell in waves, and his bright blue eyes that looked oddly familiar sparkled as they scanned the room, as if searching for someone.

“Dibs!” shouted Eleni and Thalia simultaneously, then they rolled their eyes. The last time they had fought over a guy, it hadn’t ended well.

“Who is that?” Aunt Tasoula asked in barely more than a whisper.

Ma frowned. “You already have a man. This new guy is half your age.”

“Age, schmage,” my aunt breathed in awe. “I might be taken, but I no blind.”

“It’s the Greek god, Thor almighty, himself,” someone said.

“No, no. It’s that famous Viking, Ragnar,” someone else said.

“No. It’s the romance hero, Fabio, I tell you,” someone else chimed in.

Chloe’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she nearly tripped over her crutches. “Uh, oh.”

Nik set his jaw. “You’re all wrong. That’s no hero…that’s my cousin, Viggo.”