Chapter 6 Bonnie Dimou

• Bonnie Dimou
• Weeks had passed since I was called in to speak with Mr. Pappas about the auction and tasked with selecting the best pieces for it. It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but right now all I want is for everyone to see that I’m capable of handling any position.
• I had some pieces laid out on my desk and, even though my heart bled knowing our museum would lose such valuable artifacts, I was doing my job the best way I could. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Silvia entering my office in silence.
• "Why the worried face?" I asked before fully lifting my head.
• "Um..." I saw her twisting the fabric of her shirt.
• "Just say it already!" I said, a smile forming on my face.
• Silvia Taylor arrived in Greece as a tourist with little money in her bank account. When I met her, I knew she was earning money as a dancer in one of the nightclubs, which made me worry that she might end up getting hurt. Even though she assured me she wasn’t a sex worker, I still feared some man would harm her.
• I understand her reasons and the madness of trying to hold down that job after hours. She had a difficult childhood and an even tougher adolescence. Thanks to her Latin beauty, she received an offer to become a model, but when things didn’t go as promised, her only option was to run away. Here in Santorini, she found a chance for honest work and the hope of eventually returning to her mother, who still lives in Panama.
• "I want to know if I can leave a little early today, of course, only if there’s no problem," she said almost in a whisper.
• "There’s no problem at all. I just need you to help me take the pieces to Pappas later... I don’t think we have anything important left for today."
• "Thank you," she said with a huge smile. "I have a performance tonight and I really need the extra money."
• "If I weren’t buried in work, I’d definitely go with you tonight!" The gods know how much I need a little fun.
• And watching Silvia dance is beautiful. I know how hard my assistant works, and she deserves all the success.
• I went back to organizing the pieces for the presentation when I heard the beep of a new email. I watched Silvia leave my office and then read the internal email carefully.
• "Today, the museum will receive the owner of the private collection. We request that one of the supervisors and Miss Dimou be present to verify the integrity of the pieces that the Spanos family is donating to the auction.
• Sincerely, Greek Government"
• I took a deep breath. I know part of the Spanos family, at least Marius and Maitê, and their children, Alex, the eldest, and Selma, the youngest. I’ve seen them only a few times at events or in photos when my mother forced me to attend afternoon tea at their house.
• I barely remember their faces. I know that if I passed them on the street, I wouldn’t recognize them. All I know is that he’s been managing the family fortune and is rarely in Santorini. He travels between islands and to other places.
• The fact that I don’t remember them well may also be because I always avoided the stares I used to get from my father’s friends. The memory of some of them looking at me “differently” still makes my skin crawl. That’s why I never cared much whether they knew me or not.
• After a few hours, I called Silvia back.
• "Can you let the director know I’m heading to his office now to present the pieces, I selected from our collection?"
• I saw her nod and return to her desk.
• I looked once more at the pieces on display and then heard Silvia returning.
• "Bonnie, he’s already waiting for you," she said, and I saw her make a face that made me laugh.
• No one likes the museum director.
• I grabbed the catalog and left the pieces in my office. I walked toward the director’s office and took a deep breath, begging God to protect me from all the irritation I was about to face.
• Because every time I step into that office, all I want is to strangle that man. The museum director is a disgusting old man who only cares about lining his pockets.
• Our museum used to be the most famous in the entire Mediterranean. It held many unique pieces and had the largest Egyptian collection, including an entire wing dedicated to it. But ever since he took over, everything has gone downhill. Finances are worse than ever, and to make matters worse, he started selling off pieces just to cover some expenses.
• I took a deep breath before entering, knocked on the door, and faced that old vulture.
• "Mr. Pappas, I brought these three pieces..." I got straight to the point.
• The faster I get this over with, the sooner I can leave.
• "I selected two ceramics. One is vase-shaped, and the other resembles a plate with various engravings. And the most valuable piece in our collection, the Mask of Agamemnon..." I presented the three pieces, waiting for him to make a choice.
• "In your opinion, Miss Dimou, which one would you choose?" He looked at me, and I could feel that he wanted my opinion, not as a historian.
• "That depends..." I began, glancing at the catalog. "If I were in your place and knew the museum’s situation, I’d tell you without hesitation which one is best. But unfortunately, I’m not."
• I pushed a little, hoping he’d reveal what was really going on. But instead, he leaned his weight against the side of the table and waited for my opinion.
• "Because I guarantee things would be much better than they are now if I were in your place." His gaze hardened, and I saw him weighing whether or not to respond.
• I gave a faint smile and looked again at the pieces I had carefully selected, hoping they could help preserve the place I love so much.
• "Anyway, I’ll give you the opinion you asked for. If the museum’s situation isn’t that bad, I suggest the amphora. It’s not the most valuable, but it will fetch a good price at auction."
• I saw him nodding and motioning for me to continue.
• "Now, if things are really bad, I recommend the mask. It’s a priceless artifact, the last appraisal put it at over one hundred million euros. So your decision depends entirely on the museum’s financial state." I replied without hesitation.
• Because this decision is his, not mine. And I’m not going to miss the chance to throw it in his face just how terrible his management of the museum has been.
• I lifted my eyes and saw how red he was. And I was certain it wasn’t from embarrassment, it was rage. I noticed his hands clenching into fists, and that, in a way, pleased me.
• I wondered if he died of a heart attack right here, would I be able to take his place?
• I held back the urge to laugh out loud and waited for his response.
• "You’d love to be in my place, wouldn’t you?"
• I wanted to nod. I watched as he returned behind his desk and sat in the chair I so desired.
• "I hate to break it to you, but this chair I’m sitting my ass in will never be yours." I swallowed hard, irritated by him. "The Greek Arts Council requires that the museum director be married and have a family."
• "That’s something that can change!" I said with a defiant tone.
• "Yes, I agree, but until then, that’s the rule. And as everyone knows, marriage and family aren’t exactly part of your personal agenda." A smile crept across his lips. "You’re too stupid to agree to get married and try to take my place."
• I straightened my posture, kept my eyes locked on his, and tried to suppress the urge to cry. But I refused to shed a single tear for that man.
• "And about the pieces you brought me, prepare the paperwork for the mask. That will be our piece. Now leave and close the door."