The package was small and oblong, and beautifully wrapped. Curious, Melina opened it. The card read, simply: "I thought you might enjoy this. Constantin."
It was a leather-bound copy of Toda Raba by Nikos Kazantzakis, her favorite author. How could he have known?
Melina wrote a polite thank-you note, and thought: That's that.
The following morning another package arrived. This time it was a recording by Delius, her favorite composer. The note read: "You might enjoy listening to this while reading Toda Raba."
From that day on there were gifts every day. Her favorite flowers, and perfume, and music, and books. Constantin Demiris had taken the trouble to find out what Melina's tastes were, and she could not help but be flattered by his attention.
When Melina telephoned to thank Demiris, he said: "There's nothing I could ever give you that would do you justice."
How many women had he said that to before?
"Will you have lunch with me, Melina?"
She started to say no, and then thought: It can't hurt to have lunch with the man. He's been very thoughtful.
"Very well."
When she mentioned to Count Manos that she was having lunch with Constantin Demiris, he objected.
"What's the point, my dear? You have nothing in common with that terrible man. Why are you going to see him?"
"Vassilis, he's been sending me little gifts every day. I'm going to tell him to stop." And even as Melina said it, she thought: I could have told him that over the telephone.
Constantin Demiris had made reservations at the popular Floca restaurant on Panepistimiou Street and he was waiting for Melina when she arrived.
He rose. "You're here. I was so afraid you might change your mind."
"I always keep my word."
He looked at her and said solemnly: "And I keep mine. I'm going to marry you."
Melina shook her head, half amused, half annoyed. "Mr. Demiris, I'm engaged to many someone else."
"Manos?" He waved a hand in dismissal. "He's not right for you."
"Oh, really? And why is that?"
"I've checked on him. Insanity runs in his family, he's a hemophiliac, he's wanted by the police on a sex charge in Brussels, and he plays a dreadful game of tennis."
Melina could not help laughing. "And you?"
"I don't play tennis."
"I see. And that's why I should marry you?"
"No. You'll marry me because I'm going to make you the happiest woman who ever lived."
"Mr. Demiris..."
He covered her hand with his. "Costa."
She withdrew her hand. "Mr. Demiris, I came here today to tell you that I want you to stop sending me gifts. I don't intend to see you again."
He studied her for a long moment. "I'm sure you are not a cruel person."
"I hope not."
He smiled. "Good. Then you won't want to break my heart."
"I doubt if your heart is that easily broken. You have quite a reputation."
"Ah, that was before I met you. I've dreamed about you for a long time."
Melina laughed.
"I'm serious. When I was a very young man, I used to read about the Lambrou family. You were very rich and I was very poor. I had nothing. We lived from hand to mouth. My father was a stevedore who worked on the docks of Piraeus. I had fourteen brothers and sisters, and we had to fight for everything we wanted."
In spite of herself, she was touched. "But now you are rich."
"Yes. Not as rich as I am going to be."
"What made you rich?"
"Hunger. I was always hungry. I'm still hungry."
She could read the truth in his eyes. "How did you...how did you get started?"
"Do you really want to know?"
And Melina found herself saying, "I really want to know."
"When I was seventeen, I went to work for a small oil company in the Middle East. I was not doing very well. One night I had dinner with a young geologist who worked for a large oil company. I ordered a steak that night, and he ordered only soup. I asked him why he didn't have a steak, and he said it was because he had no back teeth and he couldn't afford to buy dentures. I gave him fifty dollars to buy new teeth. A month later he telephoned me in the middle of the night to tell me he had just discovered a new oil deposit. He hadn't told his employer about it yet. In the morning, I started borrowing every cent I could, and by evening I had bought options on all the land around the new discovery. It turned out to be one of the biggest oil deposits in the world."
Melina was hanging on his every word, fascinated.
"That was the beginning. I needed tankers to ship my oil in, so in time I acquired a fleet. Then a refinery. Then an airline." He shrugged. "It went on from there."
It was not until long after they were married that Melina learned that the story about the steak was pure fiction.
Melina Lambrou had had no intention of seeing Constantin Demiris again. But, by a series of carefully arranged coincidences, Demiris invariably managed to appear at the same party, or theater, or charity event, that Melina was attending. And each time, she felt his overpowering magnetism. Beside him, Vassilis Manos seemed - she hated to admit it, even to herself - boring.
Melina Lambrou was fond of the Flemish painters, and when Bruegel's "Hunters in the Snow" came on the market, before she could purchase it, Constantin Demiris sent it to her as a gift.
Melina was fascinated by his uncanny knowledge of her tastes. "I can't accept such an expensive gift from you," she protested.
"Ah, but it's not a gift. You must pay for it. Dinner with me tonight."