OLIVIA."Come in... Hello?"The owner of the house opened the door, spoke to us, and invited us in, and we didn't answer, we didn't even move.When I heard the word "attack" from Carl's mouth last night, I honestly didn't know what I expected.Maybe a concussion, a cast from a car crash, or maybe I could have thought of an emotional trauma that she would confess to us.The trauma she had to have, but everything else fell short in my eyes.Nancy is an extremely beautiful woman, a full-fledged lady.With an unmatched beauty, she is one of those women you hardly ever see in Maracaibo and many places.Her Italian and Latin genes blend creating a special female. And if we add money, mystery, luxury, and success, her looks take on an ultra-fascinating glow.I didn't like her so much when we met at her restaurant after she approached my table (I still don't know exactly with what intention) and talked to me about Carl and things I shouldn't have been interested in at the time. It was a very s
OLIVIA.I didn't understand what was going on with Carl and me until I suggested that we meet at that restaurant by the lake. It had fascinated me and I thought it was a great idea to go back there.I wouldn't have to say what day I scheduled that outing. Of course, it was a Friday. It would come to be our tenth dinner out, however, I could feel almost a month ago that the tenth took place with someone else, a feisty woman who dared to welcome us into her home despite her circumstances of not knowing us that well, accepting our presents, showing herself and confessing to us who was to blame for her outrages and breakdowns.Yes, Nancy. Carl and I had a pleasant dinner at her house and I must count that night as an interesting moment in our lives.Getting out of that house was not easy. Falling asleep afterward did not happen right away. The questions came later and so did the laconic answers, but I understood that it was better to go on living than to be overwhelmed by what could happe
OLIVIA."What have you got there?"My question was superfluous. I knew it was a gun as soon as my fingertips brushed it.We looked at each other's faces.He clenched his jaw and shrugged his shoulders extremely lightly."Today I felt like taking it out.""Why?" I looked at Ray, then at him. "You came alone? Where's Juan?""He's outside.""If he's outside, why did provoke you to pull your gun? Didn't you hire him to use that thing?"Carl continued to penetrate the iris of my eyes. He didn't flinch, he didn't swallow thickly, but he did hide some strong feeling, very similar to desperation, maybe to the infraganti discovery, however, it was the first time I saw coldness in his gaze, I saw ice. He didn't like my little interrogation.The bad thing was that I didn't care that he didn't like that. I was going for more."Aren't you going to answer me?""I-wanted-to-get-my.-gun-out," he emphasized everything, little by little, word by word. Then he fell silent. "Olivia, I wanted to put it in
CARL.Yes, I made sure Olivia was okay.No, I didn't use the gun. There wasn't even time to touch it behind my back.Yes, I was fine.No, Ray wasn't. Neither was Juan. By the time my brain alone asked those questions, I was thinking about his father, and mother, and how they would be handling the news.Something kept my sanity linear and strengthened yet. It was nothing more than being able to hear the phrase, fluttering in my consciousness: he's alive, he's alive, Ray is alive.I was in the hospital. We had been there for more than four hours. Neither Olivia nor I wanted to move until we understood that the man who was taking care of us, especially her, was okay. Ray's wife was in tears, but she looked strong and handled everything much better than her brother, who was trying to hide his nerves.She thanked Olivia and me for acting fast and told us something very important (looking us straight in the eye): not to feel guilty about anything.Juan was a mess. Seriously, a mess. Even-te
CARL.Ray was discharged three days later. Doctors said he could recover at home. Police tracked down the gunman. His face and demeanor were not out of the ordinary; there were no surprises. He could well have been a neighbor or a co-worker. The subject could have gone unnoticed by anyone. That put us all partially at ease. I talked it over with Finol, Olivia, and even Nancy, and we had to take a break from the escorts.I was not worried about the money, I believe security and welfare should be well-paid and remunerated. It was just a matter of understanding that the enemy was no longer lurking in the streets. Tony was a fugitive, Vasallo was lost almost like the previous one, and worse. And most likely also out of the country, what did I know? The guy in the blue car behind bars was singing all the stories about the most damaging Urdaneta, as far as we knew, which gave him a good amount of time in prison. We were safe at last, nothing could happen to us, and nobody was still chasing
CARL.On my way home, at the end of November, on a Friday afternoon after knowing that we could not have dinner out at the beginning of the weekend, that is, we could not organize our furtive meeting that week thanks to work and commitments, I was contacted by one of my former clients, who was beginning to invest in another business field (not so far from what he has always been dedicated to). He wanted immediate advice in the accounting area and seeing his insistence, asked me to please visit him as soon as possible at one of his offices, I thought I would do it the next day, but it was urgent, so I turned around and went back on the road, heading to one of the most important avenues in the city.Delicias, that immense avenue, crosses another one, also of great importance for the road structure of Maracaibo City, as is the famous 5 de Julio Avenue, the same one where the restaurant La Napolitana was located, the bank where my cousin is Manager, near Olivia's Insurance and my office.
OLIVIA.I like the idea of meeting people who belong to Carl'ss life. Besides, getting out of the house is always fun.He wasn't home yet. The appointment was at 19:00hrs. Dinner could be at 21:00 or 22 o'clock, since Mr. Fito Graterol liked to chat before eating, showing his new bottles always brought from outside, adding the fact of wanting to know me better; data that my boyfriend launched the same day he announcedto me that outing.I asked Carl to bring something. Even though the host usually collects liquor, it came to my mind to bring a wine from a Spanish vineyard I saw in a store near work, which came with a promotion if you bought the dessert of the day, something great, since the cakes they made there are truly exquisite.Carl thought it was an excellent idea and went to buy it, so while he was doing that errand, I put music connected to the audio system, programmed with an iPod and from one moment to another, the different melodies began to spread throughout the apartment.
CARL.Graterol poured a whiskey on the rocks and then poured another for me, handing it to me as we sat around his desk."I thought Darwing would be here," I mentioned, taking a sip of my drink."Yes, it would have been nice, but he has to travel tomorrow. And I prefer it that way, let him take care of that travel pressure, I'm not good for it anymore.""You don't like to travel anymore?" I asked with a hint of amusement, I knew his all life was business and travel."I'm getting too old... but well, let's talk about what's important." He opened a drawer on his side of the desk and took out a black folder with several documents inside. "Are you still working alone, or do you already have an assistant? I need someone to organize these statements for me."I shook my head in disbelief at the mess he had inside the folder and sighed, taking the folder from his hands."I can't believe that in this day and age, there are still these kinds of printouts. Fito, there is such a thing as a comput