Lives Undone

by Aitana Moore

  “Did you buy your dress?” Luz asked.

  “Yes.”

  A fundraiser organized by the Aguirres was taking place the next day. Ashley was invited, and Luz was not. David frowned as Luz pulled at the ends of her hair almost violently.

  “You wouldn’t like it at the party, cariño,” he told her in Spanish. “It’s for old people. Very boring stuff.”

  Luz shrugged. She would have liked to go to a party with David. But some things were not and would never be for her.

  SEVEN

  Luz offered to help Lee get ready for the party, partly out of generosity and partly to wallow in the misery of seeing her friend go off with Diego while she stayed behind.

  Lee didn’t like anyone to do her face, but it was a good opportunity for her to be at David’s without either of the brothers. They were helping their parents oversee last-minute details for the event and would soon return to get dressed.

  She hadn’t stopped thinking of her objective, and she had already managed to recover her camera and open Diego’s safe that afternoon, finding his iPad inside. It was locked with a password. His computer hadn’t revealed anything interesting: there were no films, photographs or emails of any sort that she could use to blackmail him, or that would hint at some important vice of his. There was no file with a feed of Caitlin or of any other girl.

  Now Lee needed to place a camera at David’s. It would have to be a micro digital video recorder. The DVR would capture the images directly onto a memory card, and she would be able to remove the camera and watch the video at leisure. As she didn’t live in the apartment, the camera had to be motion-activated, which made it bigger than the ones she normally used.

  She would just have to hope that David didn’t find it.

  “You have great skin,” Luz said as she dabbed make up onto Lee’s face.

  Lee disliked foundation, but Luz insisted that she would look terrible in photos if she didn’t wear it.

  “Do you want strong eyes or lips?” Luz asked.

  “Eyes, please.”

  “You’re right. You have the most beautiful eyes. The shape.”

  “Thank you.”

  “David has beautiful eyes.”

  Luz hardly spent ten minutes without mentioning David, even in a non sequitur. Lee longed to be the more mature woman dispensing advice: This isn’t love, Luz. Being attracted to a man, dazzled by his money and his position, by the fact that he wants you — it isn’t love. And he doesn’t love you either.

  Love is something else.

  But who, exactly, was she to lecture anyone about love?

  As Luz leaned forward to brush Lee’s eyebrows, a gold medal swung from a chain around her neck. Lee missed her own medal, although she wouldn’t wear it near Diego. Maybe she would never wear it again. She took Luz’s and looked at the depiction of a Virgin.

  “You never take this off.”

  “It’s the Madre Santisima de la Luz,” the girl explained. “The Virgin of Light. Like my name, you know? My father bought me this when he went to Guanajuato. He told me the Virgen de la Luz is always happy, and that’s what he wanted for me.”

  Her black eyes filled with tears, but she pressed her lips together and managed to keep them from spilling.

  “Where are your parents?” Lee asked.

  “Up north, at home.” Luz sniffled as she rummaged for brushes. “My father is a really serious man, you know. He didn’t like it when I came here to be a model. He wanted me to be a virgin like the virgin till I got married. When he found out about David, he told me never to go back home.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”

  “Almost a year. I haven’t spoken to my mother either, because he doesn’t like her to, and she does what he says. I just hear from people up there that they’re all right.” Luz shrugged. “I know he’ll forgive me one day, when I’m married. If I take a little grandson or granddaughter to him, he’ll just melt. There, what do you think?”

  The mirror showed a stranger to Lee, a woman with smoky dark eyes and cheeks sculpted by blush. But she had worn make up at other jobs, and she didn’t want to disappoint Luz.

  “Wonderful.” Lee smiled, feeling the foundation stretch with the movement. She already longed to wash her face.

  “I’ll do your nails,” Luz cried with the sudden enthusiasm a makeover could inspire.

  The nails were still drying when Luz went to the bathroom and gave Lee a moment to run into David’s office, push aside the painting and plant the camera. He would have to bend and look up at the shelf above the safe to find it; nevertheless, she needed to recover it soon. A collection of Montblanc pens of varying sizes lay in a perfect line on top of the desk, next to a stack of paper. That prat, David, must measure everything with a ruler, and he might notice something even if it was small and hidden.

  Prat, she thought later at Diego’s, as she waited for him to get ready. She was using James’ expressions now. David would definitely qualify as a sod, a twat and a tosser, as far as James was concerned. Lee couldn’t help smiling as she thought of all the words he might use for the Aguirre brothers.

  Two bloody wankers. Whingers.

  “Wow!”

  The exclamation came from Diego, who stood at the door. They had separate bathrooms, and Lee had taken less time to shower and step into her long red dress. She wiped the smile off her face as he looked her up and down and whistled.

  “Just one thing missing,” he said.

  It was only then that she noticed the long blue case in his hand. Her smile was as bright as the leaf-shaped diamond necklace Diego had bought her. It had not put him too much out of pocket; it might cost about twenty thousand dollars, and he must think it a fair price to buy her company at a fundraiser, or anywhere he needed. She — the thief, the liar, the woman who had just escaped going to prison — gave him legitimacy.

  After standing still so that he could place his gift around her neck, Lee thought that she might jump out of her skin when he kissed her shoulder. An impulse made her rush toward the walk-in wardrobe where all her things were tidily laid out. She found one of the boxes inside the zipper of her bag. The drops in the brooch James had given her flashed even in the subdued light as she fastened it on her dress.

  "I thought they’d go well together," she told Diego in the living room.

  He frowned at the brooch. It was an insult for her to wear better diamonds when he expected her to be impressed by his gift, but she could not, she would not walk out wearing only his payment for her conformity. James' diamonds had been given to her for a different reason, at least.

  "My mother's," she said, caressing the brooch. She laid her hand on the necklace. "Two things to love."

  He would believe any platitude, she supposed, since he kissed her and gave her his arm.

  It was time for yet another show.

  EIGHT

  "We finally get to meet you in person!"

  Like his sons, Miguel Aguirre spoke English with hardly any accent. The corners of his genial dark eyes crinkled as he took Lee's hand in the old palace where their fundraiser for nature conservation was taking place.

  Large paper lamps representing Mexico's endangered flora and fauna floated in modern contrast to the polished floors, gleaming chandeliers and gilded walls from the time of Maximilian, the doomed Austrian who ruled Mexico before Benito Juárez put an end to him.

  "What a beautiful girl, Diego," Paloma Aguirre told her son as she kissed the air on either side of Lee's face.

  Her voice was flat as her eyes inspected every inch of Diego’s girlfriend, seeming to both approve and disapprove of what she saw. Lee stood under Paloma's scrutiny as the older woman's gaze moved from the necklace to the brooch. The Aguirre matriarch frowned, perhaps believing that both had been gifts from Diego, and that he was overdoing things.

  However, as the hostess she had other things to worry about and turned away, dismissing the whole subject of Lee for the evening.

  And
as she left, Lee had a much greater reason to regret wearing the brooch. The man who had given it to her was across the room.

  James.

  Some films did a good job of showing how a person in shock reacted. It was as if the whole room had become blurry for Lee, the noises in it distorted, and her legs felt like stiff crutches that might slide on the polished floor if she budged.

  "Isn't that—?"

  The half question had been asked by Diego under his breath. A tall, bony man next to James waved, and Diego returned the gesture.

  No, no! Lee thought as the man and James approached.

  There he was, a mere foot from her. His eyes flicked down at the brooch, which she desperately wanted to hide, then at the necklace, as Paloma's had done.

  The man with James smiled. He looked alert, as if he were always looking forward to something entertaining or surprising. He might not be disappointed.

  "Peter!" Diego said a little too brightly. Lee could feel his heart beating fast against her arm. "Do you know Ashley? This is Peter Hadley from the British Embassy, mi amor."

  Diego clutched her as if she were a buoy and he in deep, troubled waters. He was terrified of James, as well he should be. Lee almost laughed out loud, realizing that she felt pride in a man who was determined to humiliate her.

  "I—I think you're James Bryce?" Diego managed to say with a quickly masked stammer.

  "Yes," James said. "Have we met?"

  "I met your sister Caitlin this summer."

  James’ smile hid the fact, obvious to Lee, that he longed to make Cat’s blackmailer swallow all his teeth; but at times he exhibited exceptional control, and there was only a polite but slightly disinterested look on his face. "At Oxford?"

  "Yes. She is a great girl."

  "She is.”

  The arm around Lee's waist relaxed as she understood that Pete Hadley was aware of his friend's interest in Diego and the reason for it; he looked like he had enjoyed the tense moment. She had forgotten herself for that moment too, but now James’ eyes and his cold smile were turned onto her.

  "Nice to meet you," he said without extending his hand, while briskly adding to Diego, "Congratulations on the event."

  "I can't take any credit; my parents organized this."

  "Still," James insisted. "Worthy cause."

  "Oh, of course — the environment is a big cause for you, isn't it?"

  James looked around. "Depends which environment."

  Diego laughed. "Probably not this one, right?"

  "On the contrary, I'm eating and drinking for free and looking at beautiful people." He stared at Lee for the barest second, then smiled at Diego again. "What else can a man hope for?"

  And as if there were not much more to say once pleasantries were exchanged, he moved on with his friend.

  "Isn't he that English explorer guy?" David asked. His sudden appearance made his brother start. "And didn't you go out with his sister?"

  "Que elegante eres siempre," Diego told him in Spanish. How elegant you are.

  David covered his mouth with an apologetic look at Lee and giggled. He was not at the stage where he would attend an event high on heroin, especially if it involved his parents. He might never get to that point; some people were eternal low burners. David was only tipsy.

  "Mamá is calling," he said. "Time for speeches."

  He rolled his eyes and made a snoring sound for Lee's benefit, and she pretended to find it amusing. Paloma was already at the podium in her designer dress, sparkling jewels framing her tight face. The painted claws at the end of her toned arms moved, asking for silence and the guests converged around her, holding on to their glasses of champagne.

  "Who can doubt that our Mexico is one of the most beautiful places in the world?" Paloma began in a soulful tone.

  "I hope you don't mind missing the speeches.”

  James had appeared next to Lee. She managed to sound calm as she asked, "What do you mean?"

  He handed her a card. "Room 1005 in the hotel next door. Easier to get there through the parking lot. See you in a few minutes."

  She meant to protest, but he was gone. The attention of the large hall was on Miguel Aguirre now, who made jokes that apparently delighted the guests. Lee moved slowly out of the center of the crowd until she dodged through the door. She pretended to look for the rest rooms and found her way to a small parking lot.

  The hotel next door shone in the borrowed light of the Aguirres' party, and no one stopped her as she walked through the foyer; in her red evening gown and diamonds, she looked like she belonged anywhere expensive. Making her way upstairs in an empty elevator, she reached the tenth floor and walked swiftly to James's room. The door beeped as she inserted the card and pushed it open.

  A soft breeze made the sheer white curtains billow. On the terrace, James turned in profile as Lee advanced to the center of the large bedroom. There was a heavy crystal glass in his hand as he stepped inside; he had taken off his jacket and tie.

  "Drink?" he asked, lifting the glass.

  "No, thanks. I can't stay here long."

  "Of course not. You're part of the committee."

  "Not really."

  "I mean that if you go missing, your mark will get anxious."

  "Why are you here?"

  He drained the glass and set it down. "Wondering how things are going."

  "You could have asked Sol to ask me."

  "I guess I didn't."

  She shrugged. "I don't have anything yet."

  "No?" He put his hands in his pockets. "You’ve been with Aguirre for weeks and nada?"

  "Sometimes it takes a bit of time to get something incriminating enough—"

  James interrupted her. "So the dickhead does something weird to my sister right away, but with you he takes his time?"

  Lee’s face burned. His disbelief was meant to be offensive, although it was his fault that she was with Diego in the first place.

  "He hasn't done anything weird."

  "Maybe it's just not weird enough to make you run when you can get something out of him."

  "What are you talking about?"

  She should have remembered how quickly he could change. He struck out, fast as a cobra, and grabbed the diamond necklace, pulling on it. Lee was dragged by the movement until the fastening broke.

  "I'm talking about this," he said, throwing the necklace at her.

  Despite being taken by surprise, she slapped his face as hard as she could. She had seen him lose his head before, and when he stepped forward, she took a ceramic lamp on the night table and hurled it. It was still connected to the socket and bounced back, breaking on the floor without touching him.

  He pushed her against the wall, her wrists pinned above her head and his body between her legs so that she couldn't kick him, although she tried.

  "Let me go, you pig!"

  It infuriated her that he should be so much stronger than she was; she struggled with all her might.

  "You wear that thing for him and what I gave you too? Don't you have any shame at all?"

  "You know I don't!" she shouted in his face. "Why have you come here? You'll just ruin everything."

  He took her by the chin. "You're the one who did that."

  They breathed together in fury, until his lips fell on hers like a blow. His mouth and his body were hard, and he had let go of her hands. She would tell herself later that he hadn't given her time to think; instead of pushing him away, she buried her fingers in his hair. They pulled at each other until it hurt. There was probably nothing for them to say except insults — nothing that needed to be said. Their lips were still locked as he lifted her and threw her on the bed, pushing her dress aside.

  You'll regret it, a voice told her, but it was much fainter than the blood pounding in her ears.

  Three knocks on the door sounded like explosions, and their startled bodies broke apart.

  "Por favor?" a man said from outside. "Necesito que abra la puerta."

  "Quién es?" Ja
mes asked.

  "Seguridad."

  James didn’t look at her. He ran a hand over his hair as he walked to the door. Although the security guard could not see her, Lee stood and smoothed her dress.

  "There have been complaints about the noise here," the man told James in Spanish. "Shouting and things breaking.”

  James gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "I have to apologize. There was a little accident — demasiado entusiasmo.” Too much enthusiasm.

  "Oh!" the guard's exclamation also held a laugh in it. "I see."

  "Darling, tell the man you're all right," James asked in English.

  "I'm all right," Lee said without moving. "So sorry!"

  "I'll pay for the lamp, of course," James continued.

  "No, no, no—"

  The man pretended not to want a large tip, but he must have taken it, because he thanked James and chuckled. Lee waited with the broken lamp at her feet, but James didn't join her when he returned — he looked at the carpet and stooped to pick up the necklace as he moved to the desk by the window instead.

  "It's just as well,” he said.

  Lee had already begun to feel angry, even before he wiped the back of his hand across his lip and looked at it. His gesture said: It's just as well, because I don't want to be where Diego Aguirre has been. When he raised his eyes, they were full of disgust, and that was the last drop for her.

  "You're right," she said. "There is only so much acting I can do in a night."

  Sitting on the edge of the desk, he let his body slouch a little as he fixed the fastening on her necklace. His insolent masculinity enraged her; he had gone there just to prove that he could take her whenever he chose. That was all he had been doing: saving his pride and showing her who was boss.

  "You despise someone like Diego, don't you?" she asked. "Call him a boy. Do you think you're a man, James?"

  He scoffed. "Really, Lee? You're going to lecture me on what it is to be a man?"

  "Looks like you need a lecture.”

  "Not from you."

  "I know what it means when a person hides behind irony all the time."