JAIME IS TORTURING me more and more. Perhaps he can sense something. Tonight he had a business dinner with his partner and a possible client. He insisted I went too, and that I should make myself ‘sexy’.
‘For a business dinner?’
‘Yes, he’s a very special client and I need your help for once.’
‘What kind of help?’
‘I want you to be friendly, that’s all. Is that too much to ask?’
I could see he was getting angry again, so I agreed to go to the dinner to avoid an argument. On our way there, Jaime explained about the client.
‘I’ve been chasing him for ages, but he always slams the door shut in my face. But the fact that he’s having dinner with us means we have the chance of signing a contract.’
Jaime and Joaquin had agreed to meet up beforehand to settle what they should say, and how to direct the meal to convince the client he should sign the three-million-peseta contract with them.
The bar was a tiny, exclusive place, with an entrance like a ship’s gangway. Inside, a narrow staircase led to a small room with a huge teak bar that took up over half the space. There were a lot of people there already, so we did not have much room. I did not like the atmosphere and I suppose my unease showed, because Jaime several times asked me to smile.
Joaquin was already installed at one corner of the bar, deep in discussion with two heavily made-up young ladies. When they saw Jaime, the two of them greeted him as though they had known him all their lives. They looked me up and down scornfully and decided to ignore me completely, as if I did not even exist. I stayed behind Jaime, partly due to the lack of room, and partly because the two women intimidated me. I played no part in the conversation, but I could see the conniving way that Joaquin was glancing at Jaime. They seemed to be saying something to each other that only they could grasp. I could not understand Jaime’s attitude, especially after what he had told me about the way Joaquin had used him over the bank loan. That did not seem to have affected their friendship in the least.
I don’t like Joaquin. I have never warmed to him, not even the first day I saw him. He is tall, with completely white hair. He always wears brightly coloured ties and big brown plastic glasses like Onassis. Gruesome! You can smell his pipe from a mile away, whether he has it lit or not. Joaquin is a member of a rich bourgeois Catalan family that is on the way down. He lives on the outskirts of Barcelona in a beautiful mansion his wife owns. He has been out on the town for months now, and tonight he was flirting openly with the two women at the bar. Seeing my long face, all at once he turned towards me and declared, ‘You’re too young to understand certain things. You’ve still got a lot to learn.’
It wasn’t worth me protesting. But I started to feel a mounting anger towards Jaime, who did nothing to defend me or put Joaquin in his place.
After our drinks we set off for the restaurant, where their client was already waiting for us. Jaime drew me to one side and whispered, ‘Joaquin is already drunk, so we can’t let him talk too much over dinner. It’s up to you and me to deal with the client, right?’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, I need your help. You’re more intelligent than you think, you’ll see.’
What on earth did he mean by that? The client was sitting smoking a cigarette at a table for four in a corner of the restaurant. We said hello, and Jaime presented me as an office associate. I did not say anything, because I imagined this must be part of a strategy of his for keeping his business affairs and his private life separate. Jaime pressed me to take a seat next to the client.
There was lots of lively debate over dinner, but I hardly dared open my mouth. The client, a small, slimy character, did not stop drinking or staring at my legs. I began to feel offended, because I could see Jaime had noticed what was going on, and had done nothing to protect me. He has always been jealous, but now it was a question of a three-million-peseta contract, he did not say a word.
After dessert, the client started stroking my legs under the table, still talking animatedly to Jaime. I was petrified. I could see Joaquin was calmly lighting his pipe, oblivious to whatever was going on. I could not believe my eyes when I glanced at Jaime and he gave me little nods to show I should carry on. Instinctively, all my muscles stiffened, and when the client started to slide his hand up the inside of my thigh, I stood up and threw my napkin down onto the table. I could not control myself any longer, so I shouted at Jaime, ‘Am I only worth three million pesetas to you?’ The whole restaurant turned to look in my direction.
Jaime feigned surprise.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘This ape has got his hands all over me; aren’t you going to do anything about it?’
Jaime looked across at the client, who had dropped his hands by his sides.
‘Just behave!’ he said, leaving me completely deflated.
Joaquin sat puffing away at his pipe, a silly smile on his face.
‘What did you say?’ I roared.
‘I said, behave!’ Jaime ordered me. ‘You’re ruining everything!’
I did not know what hurt me more: their client’s pawing or Jaime’s attitude. I was so indignant I left the table, asked for my coat and ran out of the restaurant. So Jaime would have been happy to share me with a stranger. I felt like throwing up.
I cried all the way home. When Jaime came in at five in the morning as if nothing at all had happened, it was at last clear to me that he doesn’t love me and in fact never has.
Before he slipped into bed beside me, while I was pretending to be still asleep, he whispered, ‘You’re very young still. You have a lot to learn.’
His presence next to me revolted me. I’m not going to be able to put up with this much longer.