I nodded. I did. I think...
“Now let’s go back in there and try to convince the Hanson Group to sell us their shares in the Wilson division,” she said confidently.
Smiling, I followed her back into the room where I found a piece of my old self.
Paris actually turned out to be a great accomplishment. We managed to sign on new business, and of course I was in my element for the week I spent there. It turned out that back-to-back meetings with new investors as well as business expos provided me with the solitude that I was desperate for, but of course all good things must come to an end and once again I found myself alone, at a loss with what to do. I still wasn’t ready to go home so I flipped through my phone and looked for places I wanted to visit. For some reason, Brazil caught my eye. I had been there years ago, for business, but something drew me back. I don’t know what it was, like this pull almost. I booked my flights and the next day I touched down in Rio de Janiero; I was still wondering why I chose to come here.
Wandering the streets of Brazil, I felt like a nomad, alone with no purpose. The bottle of tequila was a permanent fixture in my hand. This city came alive at night, the crowds freely dancing away in the streets, the samba beats echoing through the night. It was easy to get lost in this diversity as I made my way through the streets not really knowing where I was heading to. Women would reach out for me, beautiful women. Offering me their bodies for a night, like that was what I needed. It was hard to resist but as I stared into their blank faces it felt wrong, it was only her face I wanted to see, so I walked away until the noise lessened, finding myself in a quieter part of the city. The buildings looked more worn down, dilapidated even. The crowd looked different now, rougher. They were no longer friendly and were eyeing me with caution, almost on guard like I was a threat. I saw the neon light flashing and entered the bar; the tequila was running low.
Inside the music was more somber, the bar not too full, just a bunch of drunks drinking away their worries. I pulled a seat up and asked for a shot. The man beside me patted me on the back like he was my long lost friend. I motioned to the bartender that all drinks were on me, throwing a wad of cash onto the bar. The fear was no longer apparent as the crowd cheered saluting me then going about their own business. The drinks kept coming and my vision became more blurred, the man, my new best friend, spoke to me in Portuguese, telling me about all the pussy he had fucked this week. This story, somewhat entertaining, provided me with the welcome distraction I desperately needed.
But then he went quiet.
And my mind allowed itself to think.
I wanted to beat the living shit out of him for touching her, for implanting this baby inside her.
I didn’t want him near her.
I wanted him dead.
I fumbled for my cell, the screen was jumbled. I think there was a text... I wasn’t sure. Where is Tony’s number? FUCK I needed the mafia now...
My friend slid over another bottle of tequila. That worm, shit I never thought that I could drink that worm. But I fucking did.
What was I doing again…?
The bottle was empty. I realized that I ran out of cash, or the cash no longer sat in my pocket. I fumbled for more, realizing that it was all gone, I had been robbed. Panicking, I placed my hand over the secret pocket in my jacket, the relief washing over me as the plastic card still remained. Thank God for my Amex.
It was time to leave, so I stumbled out of the bar with my friend in tow. As the door opened I squinted, the light was so bright. I checked my watch but it was only 3am. No sun yet, so what the actual fuck? As my eyes adjusted to the light I immediately recognized the ‘Christ the Redeemer’ statue overlooking Rio de Janeiro, but the light that came off it was so bright it hurt, almost stinging my eyes. I asked my friend why so bright but he laughed and told me it always lit up at night and rambled on about Jesus being his savior, but this was not some little light; it shone directly at me. I asked him again, he laughed once more telling me the tequila was making me see things – that worm inside the bottle had a way of poisoning the mind. Yeah, so I was beyond intoxicated, that had to be why my imagination was playing tricks on me.
The warm air greeted us outside and I tried to ignore the light, that was until this little girl caught my attention. Her father was holding her hand; odd, I thought, to be on the streets at 3am. She looked small, her clothes tattered and her hair a wild mess of brown curls. She complained like a little brat to her father until I realized what she was saying. She complained about the light, the way it shone so bright it hurt her eyes. I turned around and ran to her side. Kneeling down to her level, I asked her if she saw that too, and she nodded. Almost instantly her father pulled her away, cursing at me and scolding her for talking to a stranger. She cried as he pulled her away, his voice speaking fast in their native language, until I heard the name Carla. Isn’t that Charlotte in Spanish?