GODDESSES INC

24

After the five-course dinner from world-renowned celebrity chef, Mada Caremyog, the guests headed to the renaissance gallery for dancing. Miguel swept Mnem into his arms and they danced for an hour.

"You're a great dancer for a kid from the wrong side of town," said Mnem.

"Mom made me learn." Miguel winked, spun her around.

"Thirsty?" asked Mnem.

"For you."

Mnem poked his lapel. "You promised. This is business only."

"You're right." His hand on her hip, he pressed a little bit harder. "I'm thirsty for conversation."

Phoebe intercepted them as they serpentined back to their assigned table.

"Are you ready to look at the conservation room?" asked Phoebe.

Mnem's eyes widened. Did I forget about that? No, the party's distracting me. I did not forget!

"Thank you, Phoebe." Miguel took two water bottles from a server, handed one to Mnem. "Hydrate."

Hydrate?

FEM insisted her goddesses be properly hydrated. Be fluid in thought and deed. Mnem took the bottle and gave him a questioning look.

"We ought to dilute all the alcohol we drank," he whispered.

"This way." Phoebe strolled from the room, wiggling her fingers in hello to several important people. She walked close to Miguel, as though they were old friends. Wanted everyone to see her with Senator Miguel Flores. "The board was quite adamant about the conservation room not being accessible to guests. They didn't want packs of school children staring into the windows to watch the conservationists work."

"I'm surprised," said Mnem. "Museums like the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam and Boston's Museum of Fine Arts found that open conservation rooms attract new visitors."

"There's a difference between visitors and donors." Phoebe led them down a wide empty hall. "It's not up to me anyway. The founder's grandchildren aren't interested in that particular change." She looked at Miguel. "Do you happen to know them?"

"I know of them. Never met them." It was impossible to tell if Miguel was honest or not.

Phoebe turned right into a small hallway, then made another right into a vestibule with a freight-sized elevator. "Excuse me." She stood in front of the keypad on the wall.

Miguel, standing behind her, looked away. Mnem did not.

Phoebe tapped the numbers. The elevator door slid open. "There's been a lot of change orders. All for the best of course, but it did cause the museum to go over budget."

"What were the problems?" asked Miguel.

"Frayed and old wiring, water damage, mold. All the myriad of things that go with building a first-class conservation room in an old building."

"Are we going to the basement?" asked Mnem as the elevator door closed.

"That's what they call it, but it's really the lower level at the back of the museum where the service entrance and loading dock are located."

The elevator rattled to a stop. The lights flickered above them.

Phoebe stared up. "They're not going to like that."

The door opened into a hallway lit by 1980's fixtures. The lighting was yellow, dim, and depressing.

Phoebe led the way down the hall. "The lower level is a maze. I think it was designed that way on purpose."