Chapter 2
But first things first. I have to keep up the charade. She mustn't realise that I'm a 'secret agent' on a 'mission' for her husband. To her, we're complete strangers who've met by accident on a boat and now find that we desperately want each other.
“I don’t even know your name?”
“Kikka,” she lies, smoothly with no hesitation. I can tell that she’s been unfaithful before.
“It's German... And yours?”
“Diego. It's Spanish..." I lie too. It's the alias I rehearsed with Geraldo: "Diego for James - James Bond.”
"Will you come to my hotel Kikka? It’s nice.”
Actually, it's very nice, somewhat above my league, courtesy of Geraldo's 'spending money'.
"I've got a little rental-car in the car park," I add.
“My hotel is very nice; and we can go in my, big car,” she counters.
“Ok, I can leave my car here, if you’ll bring me back later?” That’s a nice touch, it puts me at her mercy.
Now her hand takes mine. She doesn’t want to let me go until we get to her bed. She’s pulling my arm over her shoulder.
I ‘accidently’ brush her nipple with my wrist… She pulls my hand down so that I do it again.
As I first realised on the boat, and again as we embraced on the cliff-top, she's wearing a very thin bra under that dress. And now her nipples are hard, jutting against the fabric.
***
We're approaching her car. I recognise it from Geraldo's briefing. Third row, fifth space up, white Lexus. She’s getting out the tag thingy.
“Would you like to drive?”
Of course, I would. I lead her to the passenger's side, taking the opportunity to lean over her and do-up her seatbelt, carefully straightening it over her breasts. She giggles at my lustful attentions as I retreat. Then I go around and fall into the driver’s seat like a racing driver. Without another word the car is silently rolling between the rows.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You know the Sheraton?”
I nod, and as soon as I’m clear of the car park I show her how fast a Lexus can accelerate, deliberately starting in the dirt. I'm James Bond! She’s startled and excited…
Her hand is on my thigh, as I speed, well above the limit, like Fangio. She's loving it.
***
It’s amazing to think how this all came about.
It must have been a month ago.
I hadn’t seen Geraldo since we were best friends together, as kids then teenagers, in the Barrio.
Geraldo has made good. He learned the Tango, when we all thought that was gay, and soon became a famous teacher. I used to see his pictures up around La Boca. He' macho, handsome and well built, like me. He could be my twin, but he set up a studio and women flocked to it, to be taught ‘The Dance of Lust’. Now he's a famous celebrity judge on the hit TV show: Stars do the Tango.
As his fame grew, he could afford to be selective about his pupils. One day Diana DeMain, a recently divorced heiress, society hostess and now a local political candidate, supposedly worth over a hundred million, tangoed into his life. He literally swept her off her feet.
I bumped into Geraldo quite by chance. He'd been saying a particularly intimate farewell to a beautiful woman and turned away to bump into me. At first, I thought it must be Diana, his famous wife, but I discovered later it was one of his mistresses. I didn’t expect him to acknowledge me at all. If the situation had been reversed, I wouldn't have admitted to knowing a petty criminal from the Barrio. Particularly one who knows what I know about him.
But quite the opposite! He greeted me like his long-lost brother; said he was in a hurry; but suggested we meet later for a drink. So, I wasn't surprised when he named a real out-of-the-way dive. It's not quite the style he has become accustomed to; but not somewhere that his new friends would be likely to see him with me. Yet when he turned up looking so disreputable, I was surprised. Had he walked through the streets dressed like that: a homeless bum, wearing cheap sunglasses?
Anyway, he quickly explained. He was in disguise. He was in need of un agente encubierto, an undercover agent, who could easily seduce a woman.
He reminded me of various conquests I'd made with girls who went to the local Convent school; how I'd even seduced his girlfriend; and how he and I had run our fake charity and conned Sister Angelique, who'd spent so much time teaching us English, to hand over all the money in the charity account for our fictitious home for the elderly. We laughed so hard at that.
After a few drinks we had a fine time bragging about our more recent conquests. Then he declared that I was just the man he was looking for to seduce his wife, who went for our type, and liked a little extra-marital fling occasionally.
He explained that she's running at the next election and that he has no desire to be a political handbag if she wins office. He's also discovered that she has affairs with other people. And although it's expected in a man, he won't put up with that in his wife. Married women aught to be mothers; be true to their husbands; make a home; and care for his children. They should not go running around having affairs with other men. That's intolerable. Of course, I agreed with him.
So, he needs his wife to have another fling with me, so he can get some really juicy images, preferably video; evidence of her infidelity, that he can use as grounds for a divorce.
That's why he and I mustn’t be recognised together and I must be incognito and un-linkable to him on this mission. I’m to be co-respondent in what should be a very lucrative divorce. But in full view, not under the covers, you understand, yes? We laughed so much at that! Over-cover, undercover! I'm smiling now.
He gave me an envelope with a thousand US dollars in it; for expenses and told me to have my hair cut; and get a manicure; and buy some new clothes at Abercrombie & Fitch, that would make me look respectable and well off, pants cotton shirt, walking shoes and a good light weight jacket suitable for the boat. He'll pay me another five thousand for the camera card. And "I can assure you you'll have fun!"