CHAPTER1
GEORGIA
“What do you think?”
I tilted my head and studied the painting. Sipped my wine. Studied the painting some more. Waited for some great revelation to pop out of the canvas and hit me over the head. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
“It’s… art.”
Juliana laughed. “You’re cute.”
I grimaced. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be. I like the pink in it. The red, too.” I gestured pathetically, hoping more words would come.
“It is all right.” Juliana patted me on the shoulder. “I can tell you are not so interested in art. Thank you for coming with me tonight.”
“Are you kidding me? Thank you for inviting me!”
A few men nearby looked over at me. I pressed my fingers against my lips, my cheeks warming. From the way I acted, you would think I’d never set foot in an art gallery before.
“What about this one?” Juliana moved to the next painting, and I followed.
A swirl of red and blue. Some gold flecks. A figure hunched in the corner, bent as if in grief. Whatever it was people saw in the painting, I didn’t get it.
I glanced at the placard. If I were given about twenty minutes and a Brazilian-Portuguese-to-English handbook, I could probably translate the artist’s statement.
As it was, my command of the language was limited to pleasantries such as “Hi, how are you?”, and “Nice weather today.”
Oh, and I knew how to order coffee. That one was very important.
“It doesn’t matter. The people are the real reason to come here.” Juliana sipped her wine and turned to study the crowd.
“Why is that?” I followed her gaze to a woman in designer shoes. She was speaking to a bald man in a suit, a little fluffy dog poking out of her handbag.
“This is the…” Juliana scrunched up her face, looking for the right words. “…crème de la crème of society.”
“Really?” This got my interest. People were much more intriguing than art.
“See the thin blond woman?” Juliana murmured. “Rumor has it that she murdered her husband for his money.”
“What did he do?”
“He was a big investment banker.”
I surreptitiously watched the blond woman pluck an olive from the refreshments table. “Do you think she did that?”
“Who’s to say?” Juliana shrugged.
One week in Rio de Janeiro and already I was way over my head. I’d started my student exchange program without any expectations other than learning, and so far I’d spent very little time with my nose in books.
And who could blame me? Rio was one of the most amazing places on earth, from its architecture to its culture to its nightlife.
I’d gotten lucky meeting Juliana. Not only were the two of us attending the same school, Juliana’s mother also ran the boarding house I was staying at.
She also spoke amazing English. It helped to have a friend I could so easily communicate with.
Not that I didn’t plan on learning Portuguese. I planned on soaking in everything I could about this amazing city. And, you know, attending classes in between.
Suddenly, Juliana gasped.