She decided to lie. 'Yes.'
'Ah, then when does your boyfriend arrive?' He laughed.
Even though she knew he was fishing, she was not going to lie about that. 'I have no boyfriend.' She realized that might have sounded as if she had a girlfriend and added, 'We just broke up.'
'I'm so sorry to hear that.'
Somehow she didn't think he was.
He went on. 'So, do you have friends here?'
'No, not yet.'
'Well, now you do. Come, I make some dinner to properly welcome you to this island of my birth. I will answer all of your questions, and we will tell lies to each other of our lives and lovers.'
He could be quite charming, but this was not how she wanted to spend her first night. 'Thank you, Ilias, but not tonight.'
He smiled his usual smile. 'I understand. Perhaps tomorrow. Yiassou — excuse me, I mean good-bye.' He reached to shake her hand. She reached back out her hand and he held it. 'You are very beautiful girl, Annika Vanden Haag, do not be sad. Enjoy yourself.' He then kissed her hand and left.
This is going to be an interesting few days, she thought. They're circling like flies and I haven't even tried to look hot. I wonder what would happen if I did? That's when she decided to go out for the evening. After all, it wasn't even two yet. She walked along the edge of the road, against the traffic, toward the bus station. Though dangerous, the other side was suicide, and besides, over there men could drive alongside her as she walked. As it was, she took hardly a step without hearing some comment. One man on a motorcycle did a U-turn wheelie trying to get her attention. A group of Italian boys walking into town caught up with her and tried getting her to talk. They wouldn't leave her alone but she ignored them and kept moving down the hill. She wasn't upset; after all, she was the one who chose to wear the form-fitting, sequined teal number Peter called her 'second skin.' He said he loved the way it 'fired up the blue in her eyes' and its spaghetti straps fell from her shoulders in a suggestion of more to come. This time there wasn't much more to come. She wore only a thong underneath.
She'd learned that walking confidently — as if you know where you're going — is the best defense against hazing men. Once she passed through the bus station into the old town's maze of crowded lanes, they dropped away to pursue more willing, readily available targets.
Annika knew where she was headed. It was a bar in the center of town. She'd never been there but heard it was 'upscale,' which meant the men hitting on you pretended to have money and/or sophistication. At least it had a chance of being more civilized than the raging, dance-naked-onthe-table places that catered to most people her age. Tonight, at least, she was looking for conversational companionship. She also knew she was far too vulnerable to drink much. This would be an early night. She'd be back at her hotel no later than four.
The bar was at the end of a narrow alleyway filled with the sort of places she was trying to avoid. In keeping with Mykonos tradition — and a town ordinance — the alley's gray flagstones should have been outlined in glossy white paint, but here there were only shadows of an outline. Just before its front door the alley widened to accommodate a few cafe tables and chairs. She felt the eyes of the men at the tables but heard no comments. So far, so good.
From where she stopped it was two steps down into a wide open doorway. She could see that the room was only twice as wide as the alley, but beyond that was a larger room that looked to be a garden restaurant. A dark, well-worn wooden bar ran along the right side of the front room. Potted plants and hanging Chinese lanterns were everywhere. A dozen patrons of mixed ages sat at the bar, another twenty or so at the row of small tables across from it. All were well dressed and looked great in the complimentary dim lighting. The space between the bar and tables was crowded but not so much so as to make it uncomfortable for her to pass through, if she chose to.
She stood looking in and wondered what the hell she was thinking. This was not a smart thing to be doing alone. She should go right home to bed and call her mother first thing in the morning. She took a deep breath and mouthed silently to herself, 'To stay or not to stay, that is the question.' As if she'd spoken her question aloud, it was answered in welcoming English by a roly-poly, older Greek man seated on the single stool at the blunt end of the bar, closest to the door.
'Don't think, my dear, just come in. I need the business.' He pushed someone who must have been a friend off the stool closest to him and waved her inside. 'Come, my darling, you're in Mykonos. Jump in.'
And so she did.
6
The man at the end of the bar extended his hand, 'My name is Panos and welcome to Panos' Place — the best place in all of Mykonos for making friends.' A small crowd of middle-aged men around him parted as she moved toward the empty stool to his left.
'Thank you.' She was about to add 'sir' but caught herself. She sensed he'd be insulted if a young woman treated him with the respect due an elder.
'Would you like something to drink?' He waved to a very hot-looking young Greek behind the bar. He was about her age, tall with dark hair, dark eyes, a dark, well-toned body — she pulled her eyes off him. No need to inflame her need any further, especially since she was about to start drinking.
'As…' She caught herself about to say 'aspro krasi — 'white wine' in Greek — 'my friends back home would say, 'Wine would be fine' — white please.'
'And where's home?' Panos' piercing blue eyes didn't fit his trusty, hound-dog face. His hair seemed just as confusedly located. Pirate-style, cascading dark brown curls should not share the same head with bushy, salt-and- pepper eyebrows and a drooping, even grayer, walrus mustache. Overall, Annika saw walrus.
'The Netherlands.'
The men around them had been quietly listening but now exploded in Greek.
'Damn he's good. How's he do it?'
'I owe him another fifty euros. I'd have sworn she was American.'
'My money was on Swedish.'
'Panos always goes for the Dutch girls. He has a thing about them. He can smell them a mile away.'
That brought out a few comments she wished she didn't understand.
Panos swung around on his stool to face the chorus. He held up his hands and cocked his head. 'Never challenge the master,' he said in Greek. Then he turned back to Annika and winked. 'We have a little ritual here. When a pretty woman comes to the door, we try to guess where she's from. I won.' He spoke to her in English.
She admired his honesty. 'Am I that obvious?'
'No, that beautiful.' He smiled at her.
It never changes, she thought. Greek males start learning to seduce as children and keep up with it to their graves. You have to admire them — unless, of course, you're married to one. She decided to subtly point out their age difference, though she doubted that would deter him. 'So, how long have you been in business?'
'I was born here, but moved to Athens when I was a boy and started working there.'
That was not what she meant but she realized he'd been drinking a lot longer than she. 'No, I mean this place. How long have you owned it?'
Like many repeatedly asked the same question — and who drink too much — he responded with a stock answer not quite tailored to what was asked but that gives the requested information. 'Oh, it's been thirty-five years since I moved back here. My family had a farm out there.' He pointed over his shoulder in some vague direction away from the sea and took another sip from his drink. 'Still does. I never much liked farming, so I opened this place. Last year was thirty years. Yamas!' He raised his glass and clinked on hers. Everyone around them did the same.
He ordered food brought to the bar and introduced her to the crowd standing around him, making clear to his friends that he was in charge of her attentions. Around three in the morning, dancing to a deejay began in the back room. The party was just getting under way. He ordered a round of tequila shots for everyone to bolt down together. A Mykonos tradition, he said. Then someone else ordered a round. And someone else did the same. She
