Renato laughed.
“Are you sure about that? Haven’t I given you a local Sim card?”
He had a point. How could he have known I did forget my Global Sim Card if not through Carlos? Nonetheless, given that my thought had been working as if drenched in glue, I remained silent.
“Look,” Renato said, “Carlos is sick. I was not supposed to drive you to your hotel. But I’m not going to do you any harm.”
“You should’ve informed my company that you were coming to pick me up. You’re interfering with our policies.”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry, Senhora Bennett,” he said. “Carlos is a very responsible man. He barely had any sleep last night, woke up puking. When I noticed he wouldn’t be able to pick you up, I . . . I decided to jump into his car and drive you to your hotel. I don’t know if my uncle will agree with it, but he’s been training me for a couple of months, and I speak English. That’s why I decided to take the job.”
He certainly didn’t convince me.
“You took a great risk by breaking my company’s policies. And I’m afraid that, as a consequence, you won’t have a second chance with us anytime soon.”
He stared at me through the rear-view mirror.
“Senhora Bennet. I’m sorry. I won’t lie to you. I have no idea what your company policies are. I just entered my uncle’s car with your name, your picture, and headed for the airport. We are poor but good people. We needed the money.”
Renato looked ahead, away from the mirror. I took a long look at his face. He was a gorgeous man. And tapped his fingers on the wheel.
He looked anxious, even regretting what he had done. But, after my initial shock, I could see no harm in his manners.
“Couldn’t you have put suitable clothes on?” I said.
He took a deep breath, holding the wheel, as though relieved. The highway moving at a turtle’s pace.
“My uncle’s suits would never fit me,” he said, smirking. “Yes, I might have put on proper clothes. But I rather show up on time. Rio is a dangerous place for a single tourist to be roaming about the airport.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Besides, he must have waited for my arrival for several hours.
“Alright . . . “ I said. I almost said “thanks”. “I’ve read some news before coming to Rio. Drug traffic seems to be a big issue around here.”
“Hard to be any different than that,” Renato said. “Do you know how many people live in these favelas, these communities where there’s no sanitary sewer, no public schools, no medical care?”
I stared outside, taking it all in.
“How many?”
“In this single favela down to your right, thousands of people. Most of them are hardworking people like those two boys selling water bottles. But many are persuaded to stray by drug money propaganda. It happens. Every kid wants to have the latest smartphones, the best clothes, the shiniest cars. Living a short but intense life is a minor cost to pay. So, yeah. Poverty is a fertile terrain for violence, and Rio is the perfect example.”
I swallowed hard, uncomfortable with the scene coming through the car windows. The seedy appearance of the favela contrasted the greatness of the sky. Poverty in Rio was another level.
“I don’t want to scare you, Senhora Bennet,” he said. “It’s just that . . . well, you can never be too careful in Rio.”
“Ok . . .” I said, scared. How many actual criminals were there in Rio? I had no idea if it would be safe to step outside my hotel. Was I even safe inside the car?
Renato snickered, most likely after reading my frightened face.
“Look, forget what I just said. I get too stupid when I’m nervous.”
We stared at each other through the rear-view mirror. A long stare. Was he nervous because of me?
I felt my cheeks flushing.
He went on. “The place you’re staying is very nice, one of the best in Rio. It’s a tourist location, which means there are police everywhere.”
I squeezed the phone in my hands. “That’s good to hear, but I won’t have much time anyway. I got a lot of work to do.”
“Are you sure?”
Renato riveted his eyes against mine through the mirror. I sensed he wanted something of me. I glimpsed his broad lips and looked away.
“I don’t know how often you come to Rio,” Renato continued, “but we’ve got some nice spots in the city. There’s fun and good music around and sex . . . that’s what tourists say, isn’t it?” Now it was his time to turn into flushed cheeks. “It’s just that I might drive you and your colleagues to great happy-hours. If your husband doesn´t mind,” He smirked.
I looked down to my phone, still off in my hands. How fast things change. Three months ago I had all the excitement of a newly married woman dreaming of kids, a big home, a nice car, and certain I had the perfect husband. Now all I had was a job I only partially liked. Not to mention that constant fear of running out of control.
Why did I think he would kidnap me in the first place?
“Well,” I said, “thank you Renato, but I have no colleagues in Rio. I’ve come on a solitary mission.” I didn´t want to touch the husband matter.
Our car moved fast. Whatever had clogged the highway had been removed.
“Oh, Really?” Renato said, a faint smirk in his face. “Well, you never know when you’ll need a driver. I’m available to you anytime. Jobs in Rio are scarce. I could use the extra money. Besides,
