A small fear crept into his chest.
‘Of course. I never forget one of your visits.’
‘As I was leaving, these two men were on the other side of the plaza. T saw them from inside the building. One was very drunk. He was so. . . so limp.. . and the other one was trying to get him in the car. ..‘
DeLaroza was no longer listening. The fear grew and crept deeper into his chest. He pressed his knuckles together until they were white. Good God, he thought, did she see something? Was this the beginning of blackmail? His eyes narrowed for just a moment. Old paranoias swept over him, rising up again from the past, nightmare creatures nibbling at his heart. He suddenly felt cold and alone.
‘...Guess I just felt sorry for him. I had a feeling I had seen him before. He was wearing this old leather jacket, way out of style.’
‘Did you tell anyone about this?’ DeLaroza asked casually.
‘What’s there to tell? That I saw a drunk being shoved into a car?’
‘Then why does it bother you so?’
‘I wish 1 knew. It’s like. , . like some kind of instinct. I can’t put my finger on it. Am I being silly? Do you think I’m silly?’
‘I think,’ said DeLaroza, ‘that you are far from silly.’ He shrugged off the feeling. This was not the time to deal with it. ‘Look at you,’ he said, ‘when you came in here you were, uh — how do you say it? — acima.. high. Up. Now you seem so sad.’
She turned back to him and smiled again. ‘It’s all gone. And you’re right, I am up. What did you call it?’
‘Acima.’
‘Acima. That’s me.’
‘And why? Do you have some special new trick for me?’
‘No. It’s something more selfish.’
‘So? Everyone has the right to be selfish at times, What is it?’
‘I knew you’d understand. You particularly would understand.’
‘Hmm. What is this all about?’
She came back across the room and sat on the corner of his desk.
‘Victor. . . I think I’ve fallen in love.’
He stared at her for a moment, then said, ‘Think?
‘I didn’t plan on it. It just sneaked up on me. It surprises me. But then, of course, I adore surprises.’
‘And you have not been in love before?’
‘Oh, many times,’ she said and laughed. ‘But not recently.’
‘Then I am happy for you. And who is the lucky gentle man. It is a man?’
‘Oh, yes, a very special man.’
‘Aha, and do I know him?’
‘Of course.’
DeLaroza took out a large Havana cigar and started to peel away the cellophane. He needed time to sort out his thoughts. He found her news upsetting. She took the cigar away from him, snipped off the end and lit it, twirling it between her fingers so it burned evenly. Then she handed it back to him.
‘Obrigado’ he said.
‘You’re welcome.’
He took a deep drag and blew the smoke out slowly. His face had grown sad.
‘Have I upset you?’ she asked.
‘No. I am concerned, not upset. You know, of course, that he is going to make his announcement Monday night at the opening of Pachinko!’
‘Yes.’
‘To continue this Jove affair at this time could be very risky.’
‘Love affair?’ she said. The words hung in the air as though she were listening to them in instant reply. She frowned.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘call it what you wish. Infatuation?’
’Trite. Trite words and trite phrases.’ She was scowling at him.
DeLaroza chuckled. ‘Far be it for me to accuse you of being trite, my dear,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘It is just that I know both of you so well,’ DeLaroza said. ‘I’ve known Donald for sixteen years and you . . . for two....’
‘Almost three.’
