Griffin W.E.B. - Honor Bound 01 - Honor Bound

Of course, on reflection, he realized the foolishness of this notion, and ascribed it to his fascination with her olive skin and dark eyes.

Because a Mi?a was not a whore or a prostitute, it would be ungentlemanly to conclude an arrangement with her in such fashion that she was forced into one of those professions afterward. Hence the allowance, at least a part of which the girl was expected to save for a dowry—which she could use after the arrangement came to an end. And hence the note at the Anglo-Argentinean Bank which Enrico had guaranteed for her father's business. When a Mi?a had enough money to wish to begin her married future, it was usually time for her good friend to wonder whether the grass might be greener elsewhere.

Maria-Teresa Alberghoni was Enrico Mallin's third Mi?a, and she had been with him for four years. While he couldn't imagine replacing her, in the back of his mind it seemed to him that their arrangement would doubtless come to an end in another two or three years ... though in truth, he didn't really want to do without Maria-Teresa. The grass is rarely greener than where you are standing.

Although one of the best in Buenos Aires, the Plaza Hotel is, after all, nothing more than a hotel. A hotel accommodates travelers ... or sometimes a man and a woman not married to each other who require a bed behind a locked door.

Appearances are important. Unless it is for some specific function—such as a ball, or a wedding reception that their husbands are unable to attend—ladies should not risk gossip by being seen in a hotel without their husbands. Specifically, a lady would not think of entering the bar at the Plaza Hotel without her husband; and gentlemen of Enrico Mallin's social and professional circle had an unspoken agreement never to take their wives to the bar at the Plaza under any circumstances.

This left the gentlemen free to take their Mi?as there in the almost certain knowledge that they were safe from their wives.

The girls liked the system too. They could move from table to table chatting happily with their friends, while the gentlemen were afforded the opportunity to show off their Mi?as to their peers, and to have private conversations about business, or whatever else needed to be discussed in confidence, in a place where the walls do not have ears.

As a matter of fact, in Enrico Mallin's judgment, the showing-off aspects of the custom had recently started to get a little out of hand. For one thing, certain gentlemen were beginning to bedeck their Mi?as in jewelry and furs. There was nothing wrong, certainly, with giving your Mi?a a couple of small gold trinkets, or even a silver-fox cape, especially if she had done something to make you extraordinarily happy, or as a farewell gift, if the relationship was drawing to an end.

But these weren't trinkets, these were diamonds and other precious jewels, and heavy gold bracelets, and quite expensive fur coats. Once one or two gentlemen started this practice, all the Mi?as would begin to expect it.

And worse than that, certain gentlemen started to appear in the Plaza bar with a Mi?a on each arm. And there was one old fool, Hector Forestiero—he was as bald as a cucumber and must be in his seventies—who was showing up with three. Enrico had no idea what exactly he thought he was proving by this—to suggest that he had enough money for three Mi?as, or that he was still virile enough to handle a menage a quatre in bed.

The Plaza bar was L-shaped. The bar itself, with its comfortable stools, occupied a corner of the room. On either side, there were leather-upholstered chairs and tables under large mirrors and mahogany paneling.

The place was full, but that was not unusual. When the maitre d'hotel saw Mallin and Maria-Teresa, he came quickly to them and led them to a table at one end of the L. He snatched a brass "Reservado" sign from it and held Maria-Teresa's chair as she sat down.

Enrico looked around the room and nodded to several gentlemen of his acquaintance. A waiter appeared a few minutes later, automatically delivering a plate of hors d'oeuvres; a Johnnie Walker Black with two ice cubes and a little water for Mallin; and a gin fizz for Maria-Teresa.

The waiter barely had time to prepare Mallin's drink when Alejandro Kertiz appeared. Kertiz was a lawyer with a pencil-line mustache and a taste for flashy clothing. His Mi?a was cut from the same bolt of cloth. Her clothing was too tight, too revealing, and she apparently applied her lipstick with a shovel.

Enrico Mallin did not like Alejandro Kertiz. His grandmother— perhaps even his mother—was probably a Mi?a. You don't need a good family to be a successful lawyer, just a devious mind and a complete lack of morals. Mallin avoided Kertiz whenever possible. He certainly did not want to give the impression that he and Kertiz were anything more than casual acquaintances.

"My dear Enrico," Kertiz began. "Would there be room for us with you? The place is jammed."

"I would be honored," Mallin said.

The two sat down after Kertiz's Mi?a leaned across the table to kiss Maria-Teresa's cheek.

"I was hoping to run into you," Kertiz said, and started looking around for a waiter.

Even the waiters recognize you for what you are and try to ignore you.

By snapping his fingers so loudly and so often that everyone in the room was looking their way, Kertiz finally attracted the attention of a waiter, and grandly ordered "whatever Se?or Mallin and the Se?orita are having, plus a Dewar's White Label, doble, with soda, for the Se?orita and myself."

Good manners require that I protest and tell the waiter to put that on my bill. To hell with him. Let him buy his own whiskey. On the other hand, if I permit him to buy me a whiskey, I am indebted to him.

"Put that on my bill, por favor," Mallin ordered.

Kertiz waited until the waiter delivered the drinks, then said, "Corazonita,"—Little Heart—"why don't you go powder your nose and take Se?or Mallin's little friend with you? I wish to discuss something in confidence with him."

The young women left the table.

"She's so very attractive," Kertiz said, obviously referring to Maria-Teresa, and then added, "Pity."

"Yes, I think she is," Mallin said. "What do you mean, 'pity'?"

"None of them—sadly—seem able to deny themselves the attentions of a young man," Kertiz said. He reached into his pocket, produced a brownish envelope, and handed it to Mallin.

There was a photo inside. It showed Maria-Teresa standing by the railing of the canal across from the English Yacht Club at El Tigre. She was holding the hand of a dark-skinned young man.

His back was toward the camera; his face could not be seen, but Mallin could see his dark skin, and that he was touching Maria-Teresa's face with his hand.

Another goddamned Italian!Mallin thought furiously. A stevedore from La Boca, or a vegetable salesman, all dressed up in his one suit of "good" clothes.

"I took my family out to El Tigre yesterday," Kertiz said. "To the Yacht Club. You know that my wife's grandfather was one of the founding members?"

"I had heard something like that," Mallin said.

While your grandmother was a Mi?a.

"And I had the camera with me, a Leica I-C, with a shutter speed of one one-thousandth of a second. With the new American film and the Leica, one can take photographs with practically no light."

"Fascinating!"

How dare the ungrateful little bitch do this to me!

"I wasn't sure at first that it was actually your little friend, but I took the shot anyway, and I developed the film.... I have my own laboratory, I think you know, complete in every detail."

"How nice for you."

"And I examined the negatives, and then made an enlargement, so I could tell for sure."

"It is her cousin Angelo," Mallin said. "I know the boy well. He works in her father's restaurant."