“Tomorrow, Dorotea, is out of the question,” Mallín said quickly. “You know we are going to Punta del Este this afternoon.”
“I loathe and detest Punta del Este,” Dorotea announced.
“And Señor Frade has more important things to do than take a young girl like you riding in his car,” Mallín added. “People would talk.”
“Henry!” his wife protested. “What a thing to say!”
“People can talk about me all night and all day, for all I care,” Dorotea said.
“Perhaps when you come back from Punta del Este, Princess,” Clete said.
Why the hell did I say that?
“And I would love to have a ride in your car, Clete,” Señora Mallín said.
“And myself as well,” Little Henry said.
“Certainly,” Clete said.
“If you will excuse us, Señor?” Mallín said. “I see your aunt. We should pay our respects.”
“I will telephone the moment we come back from Uruguay,” Dorotea said, and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek again, thereby once more pressing her breasts against his chest.
Oh, Jesus Christ, I wish you wouldn’t do that, Princess!
“You will see, Pamela,” Mallín said, “that she does no such thing.”
Pamela de Mallín winked at him.
A moment later, Enrico came out of a corridor, followed by Peter von Wachtstein, with Alicia Carzino-Cormano holding his arm, an arrangement both seemed to find delightful. Isabela trailed along behind them, looking more than a little unhappy.
Unhappy, Clete thought, as in pissed, because Alicia is on Peter’s arm, where she realizes she doubtless wants to be…rather than playing the role she’s chosen for herself as the grief-stricken near-fiancée of the late Captain Duarte.
When Clete’s eyes met his, von Wachtstein changed course.
“Buenos días, Teniente,” he said.
“Mi Capitán,” Clete said. “That’s quite a uniform. And the Señoritas Carzino-Cormano, what a joy it is to see you again!”
Alicia smiled warmly; Isabela icily. Neither said anything.
“Your father, Teniente, has been explaining to the Señoritas Carzino-Cormano and her mother that while we are officers of opposing military forces, we bear each other no personal ill will. I thought I would greet you to make that point.”
“In other words, Señoritas,” Clete said with a slow grin, “while it would give me the greatest of professional pleasure to shoot el Capitán down, I would hope to do so while smiling with warm affection at him.”
“Precisely,” Peter said. “But I would be unhappy in such an encounter because it would be ungentlemanly of me to take advantage of an inferior foe.”
“We will have to try it sometime,” Clete said. “In a spirit, of course, of friendship and professional admiration, mi Capitán.”
“Teniente, I would not have it otherwise.”
“El Capitán is a credit to the officer corps,” Clete said.
“How kind of you, Teniente, to say so.”
“De nada, mi Capitán.”
It occurred to Isabela Carzino-Cormano that they both were mocking her. For a moment, Clete thought she was about to storm away angrily, but she didn’t. Her smile, however, became even more icy.