“You care a lot about her?” Maite asked softly. She wondered if she disappeared, if anyone except her pet bird would care. Her mother would probably shrug and say she must have done something wrong. Her sister would be equally unmoved.
“Yes,” Emilio said. “I do.”
How she wanted someone to care about her! A thick, destructive yearning flamed inside her chest, and a flicker of emotion must have shown on Maite’s face because he chuckled and quickly added, “It’s not love. Not like that. We broke up.”
“Yes, I heard,” Maite said, playing with the bow on her neck, trying to seem nonchalant even as she felt herself blushing. “What…may I ask, what happened there?”
“Nothing special, diverging interests. She’s young, I’m not.”
“But you’re not old,” she protested.
“I’m twenty-eight, Leonora is twenty-one. When you’re twenty-eight you begin to get serious about life, you begin to think about things like a family, to plan for a real future. She wasn’t ready for any of that. I mean, I was a founder of that art collective she’s a member of, so I understand the impulse to want to leave your mark. But there’s more to life than that, don’t you think?”
“I’m not an artist,” Maite said, smoothing down the bow at her neck.
“You should consider yourself lucky. Art is a constant torment. I still take a few pictures, but my business takes up most of my time now,” he said and pointed at one of the photographs on the walls.
“Antiques?”
“Yes. I own a beautiful shop. Not flea market merchandise, either. Genuinely enchanting pieces. I have gorgeous Chinese porcelains and a Louis XV chair right now. Leonora is not much for antiques. That was the other thing. New, new, new. Everything had to be new.”
“I can’t say I know much about antiques, but I do appreciate the value of an old heirloom. It seems to me something that has been preserved for a long time acquires a certain gravitas.”
“I’d agree. It’s the same with people: age refines us.”
She liked that thought. That she was refined. It was like an alchemical process. From coarse lead one could bring forth precious gold. A man of the world, such as Emilio Lomelí, would be able to discern that. She observed him carefully, taking in the curve of his smile.
“It’s very good of you to worry about Leonora, you know?” Emilio said. “Some people wouldn’t care if their neighbors lived or died in this city.”
She remembered the money the girl owed her and how she desperately needed to fix her car, plus the delight she obtained from her thieving escapades, the delight she was feeling now sitting in this living room.
“I suppose I’m old-fashioned. Always have a cup of sugar handy and all that,” she told him and looked down at the floor. She’d heard you can tell a liar by their gaze, and for a minute she thought maybe he’d look into her heart and discern all her untruths.
He sighed. “I wish we knew where she’s gone.”
“Would that journalist, Lara, know?” she asked.
“I could phone and ask. Would you let me know if you hear anything?”
“Of course,” she said, raising her head and looking at him again.
“I’d also like to ask you…if by any chance you do happen to find those photos, please, bring them to me. I don’t want anyone else getting in trouble because of them.”
“You shouldn’t worry about me.”
“I admit I am a little concerned.”
Concerned! About her! Maite almost undid the ribbon, her fingers clumsy. He was sweet! Then, for a second, she remembered that scary man who had come to her office, and she wondered if it wasn’t sweetness, if it was merely levelheadedness and she was a fool. Shouldn’t she be a little frightened, after all? She had been, the previous day. But now his proximity intoxicated her, now she felt like she was in one of the issues ofSecret Romance.
The phone rang. Emilio excused himself and picked up, smiling apologetically at her. “Yeah? No, I have a visitor. No, there’s no word on that…We’ll be done soon, yes…I wish you wouldn’t.” He turned his back to her for a moment, muttering something into the receiver before hanging up.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Work,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I’m needed at the store.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to take so much of your time. You didn’t even have a chance to eat your lunch.”
“It’s fine. I’ll grab something later. Besides, I’m glad you stopped by. We’ll be in touch?”
