Luna Tango (21 page)

‘This is not right. Society's strength is built on the bonds we establish with our families.'

‘Maybe in your eyes, but it's different for me and millions of others around the world.'

‘Perhaps the world would be a different place if people liked their family, yes?'

‘Maybe.' Dani sighed and stared at the wall. Time to change the subject. ‘Did Iris really mention Eduardo Canziani and sheet music?'

‘We are back to this again? Do you have—what is it called? ODC?'

‘OCD? Obsessive compulsive disorder?' Carlos nodded and she said, ‘No, I don't. Though I do have VPP.'

‘What is this?'

‘Very persistent personality. It helps in my line of work.'
When I'm actually writing
.

A laugh slid from between his lips. ‘Perhaps, but it makes you a little crazy, yes?'

‘You calling me crazy?' She shot him a faux glare.

‘I would never say this. I understand what the females are like.'

She studied the waves of his dark hair, the warmth of his olive skin, his perfectly symmetrical face and large eyes. ‘I have a feeling you know a lot about the fairer sex.'

‘I can always learn more.' He leant in, his lips hovering near hers.

Dani's breathing slowed, her mouth grew dry, and the room turned in a slow, lazy manner. When their lips met, her soul dipped into a pool of ecstasy, stirring a desire that had lain dormant for a very, very long time. She'd never felt this way with anyone else, not even Adam. Carlos's lips pressed hard against hers, and a small laugh echoed inside her head—Adam who?

Once again, Dani woke to white organza curtains billowing in the early morning breeze. Sunlight streamed onto the bed where she lay, her body half covered by a cotton sheet, a man's arm resting lazily across her stomach. Stretching her arms and legs, she sighed and turned on her side to face Carlos.

Since arriving in Argentina, she'd found ways to break the stringent rules she'd set up for her life—no getting involved with interview subjects; no dancing tango; and, just to make it a hat-trick, no contacting Iris. So far she'd broken two rules and was contemplating smashing the third.
Nice work, McKenna
.

What had happened to her since setting foot on Argentine soil? From the moment she left immigration, it was as though she'd come home. The language, the atmosphere, the people, they all combined in a heady mix of familiarity, yet she'd never been to Argentina. Dani had heard about people visiting the motherland of their ancestors and feeling like they'd been there all their life but ... She shook her head. No. No.
No
.

Carlos opened his eyes, his lips sliding into a cheeky grin. ‘
Buenos días
.'

‘Good morning to you, too.' She returned the smile, feeling as satisfied as he looked.

‘What is your decision about Iris?'

‘How did you know what I was thinking?' First he read her body language, now her mind. She didn't like this. Not one bit.

‘I could hear your brain go tick-tick-tick.' He drew circles with his index finger near his temple. ‘And Iris has been the main conversation topic, except for when we weren't talking.' He followed it with a wink. ‘So what is your decision?'

Dani chewed her lip and mulled it over.

‘You better not expect a teary reunion.' She pushed aside the image of Iris crying on the beach that Diego had mentioned. Her mother could have been upset about anything, although deep down, Dani's instinct told her it was related to the time she'd spent on beaches with her daughter.

‘I promise I will not pack the tissues.' He crossed his heart, face solemn but eyes twinkling.

‘I'm on a deadline here. I have to get my stories to my boss—'

‘Adam.'

‘Yes, him.' It felt weird to hear Carlos say her ex's name. ‘I'm not sure we should be wasting precious time trying to find someone who doesn't want to be found. Who's to say she'll talk? And anyway, I'm not that big on interviewing family members.'

‘See how it goes. I will come with you and while we are looking for her, I will give you the information you need for your articles on the tango's history. Gualberto has already written the facts for you about the bandoneón to make your life easy.'

‘Why didn't he tell me this?'

‘Maybe he could see you were occupied with other things.'

‘How could he know about ...' she waved her hands over their naked bodies, ‘... this?'

‘I call him The Diviner. Often he sees events before they happen. Let us get ready and we will start our search for the elusive
Gringa Magnifica
.'

‘I thought you two weren't talking with each other.'

‘Maybe it is time I rebuilt the bridge. Just like you.'

‘So do I have to learn more dance moves before you answer questions for my articles?' Surprisingly, she'd be disappointed if he said no.

Trailing a finger up her bare arm, Carlos said, ‘I think you have shown me some moves of your own. Perhaps you have more to demonstrate?'

He pulled her naked body against his and once more, Dani forgot the world outside existed.

* * *

She traipsed the streets of Recoleta, hoping for inspiration as to Iris's whereabouts. Carlos had left a short while earlier to attend to business and she'd welcomed the chance to go for a walk and process all the recent happenings. Guilt consumed her for going against her grandma's wishes, but the ball was rolling and there was no stopping it now. Anyway, she wasn't so sure she wanted it stopped.

If she looked at all the events leading to this moment, Dani had no doubt she was in the right place at the right time. Who was she to go against what the universe threw at her? She was here for a reason, and whether it was to meet her mother face to face or something else, Dani should be open to possibilities. If it included more time with Carlos, she was willing to go with the flow.

It disturbed her a little, though, how easily she'd fallen for him, especially since he should only have been a guy she interviewed for an article and pressed for information about Iris. And even though her relationship with him had gone a lot further than she'd intended, Carlos should only have been rebound guy. But her stomach did a silly flip whenever she thought about the tall, suave Argentine and, comparing that to the emotional numbness she had when thinking about Adam, it was obvious things had gotten out of hand. Learning tango was less complicated than mastering the ins and outs of romantic relationships, no doubt about it.

Spying an ice-cream shop on the corner, Dani scooted across the road, figuring sugar might kick-start her brain. She bought a cone with her new favourite flavour—
dulce de leche
—and crossed the road to United Nations Square, all the while licking the sweet, caramel delight. She took a seat on the park bench, stretched her legs, and gazed at the Floralis Genérica, a giant metal sculpture in the middle of a large pond. She'd read about it having a heat sensitive element that opened and closed the petals according to the sun's proximity, like real flowers. Right now, the metal flower was fully open. Dani checked her watch and sure enough, it was close to midday. In two hours she'd meet Carlos at her hotel room and with luck, he'd have a lead on Iris. And if he didn't, well, Dani was sure they could fill in the time.

The sculpture hypnotised her and when she broke out of the trance, she noticed her T-shirt had turned into a brown, sticky mess; the ice-cream had melted and dripped through to her bra. The best thing she could do was go to the hotel to shower and change.

Dani played dodge 'em with the traffic, now accustomed to the unwritten rules for drivers and pedestrians. Basically, it was head down and run for it, and pray to whatever gods you believed in to make it to the other side alive. She skipped up the gutter and kept her eyes straight ahead, trying not to look in the windows of the leather shops selling handbags for minimal pesos. Her bank account had dwindled dramatically and spending money on more bags and shoes, no matter how gorgeous, would deplete funds further. Crossing another street, she gave in and allowed herself an occasional peek at the shops. She got halfway up the block before a familiar figure made her halt, and she peered through the window, shading her eyes with a hand.

‘Carlos,' she breathed.

He sat in the corner of the café with two burly men in dark suits, all of them hunched over documents spread across the dark wood table. As if sensing her presence, Carlos looked up and spotted her waving. His expression pinched and he got up and walked out the front door, looking back to check it closed behind him.

‘What are you doing here?' It had been a while since he'd used this gruff tone and Dani hadn't missed it one bit.

‘Well hello to you.'

‘I am busy.'

‘I can see. I was walking to the hotel because I got ice-cream all over my top—'

‘Yes, it is obvious but I do not need the details. Daniela, I have business to attend to.'

‘About Iris?'

‘No, not about Iris. It's about ...' he paused, as if searching for words, ‘UNESCO business.'

‘But I thought it was all over?'

‘It is never over. We have to send reports to UNESCO on a regular basis.' She heard his words but he didn't meet her eyes and that said so much more. Apparently, he also sucked at lying. A heavy silence settled around them and he shifted from foot to foot while she fiddled with the strap on her handbag.

‘So no news on Iris?' she asked.

‘No. And you?' His eyes kept returning to the men in the coffee shop, who watched them.

‘Nada
.'

‘Daniela, I need to go.' Without a kiss or a smile or even his trademark cheeky wink, Carlos re-entered the café and sat with the men, continuing their conversation as if she'd never appeared.

Dumbfounded, Dani tried to collect her thoughts. Talk about Jekyll and Hyde.
Please don't let him be one of those lovers who treats women badly in public but loves them passionately behind closed doors
. Indignation got her feet moving and pushed her along the streets to the hotel, where she stormed up the stairs to her room, slammed the door, stripped off, and let the water spikes sting her skin as she muttered a series of expletives in English and Spanish.

She turned off the shower and stared at the taps. Hot. Cold. Just like bloody Carlos. Sure, he was in a business meeting and her arriving unannounced would have surprised him, but his reaction held more meaning. Carlos had lied through his teeth and then felt guilty about it. At least he had a conscience, unlike Adam, who could look you in the eye and tell the biggest furphies on earth.

Adam. Urgh.

Flopping onto the bed and opening her laptop, Dani scanned her emails. Sure enough, Adam had sent yet another missive.

Dani
,

Why didn't you reply to my last email? Are you too busy gallivanting in the bars? I need the stories you
promised
me and I'm surprised you haven't delivered, or at least answered me. You've always stuck to your word. What's happening? Email me with an update the minute you get this. I'm making it clear now
—
I am not happy
.

A

Not happy, eh? Oh well. Dani's lack of emotional response to Adam's email—on a personal and business level—surprised her. This thing with Carlos, whatever the hell it was, had superglued her broken heart together, although cracks had already appeared. But not panicking about getting her stories in on time ... this was out of character and it scared her. What was Argentina doing to her?

Never could she have imagined being in this position. Never could she have thought she'd be willing to find her mother. Never could she have dreamed her grandma might not be the person she said she was.

Closing the email program, Dani opened a page to search the internet. Biting her lip and rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she racked her brains. The only information she had to go on were memories of her mother and the puff pieces she'd read. She had no idea what Iris was really like, what interests she held, what she ate, drank, watched, read. Casting her mind back to the corkboard in the kitchen of the house she once lived in with her parents, Dani tried to conjure the images stuck on the wall with coloured pins: houses, oceans, forests; wineries with mountains as backdrops. All these were pictures her mother had chosen. Every photo was of a place in Argentina.

Dani stared at the empty search box.
Come on, think
. Her fingers moved quickly as she typed
Wineries Argentina
.

The screen came alive with a list of wine regions in the country: San Juan, Río Negro, Córdoba, La Rioja, Catamarca, Salta, Tucumán, Jujuy, Mendoza. Searching the images, they all looked similar until she came across a photo with vineyards stretching as far as the eye could see, snow-capped mountains towering behind. Memories stirred in Dani of countless hours staring up at her mother's photo board and dreaming of running away to these exotic places. Jolting back into the present, Dani read the caption on the screen:
Luján de Cuyo, Mendoza Province, Argentina
.

Bingo.

Iris was about to get a nasty shock. Until now, her mother had gotten away with her actions scot-free but her luck had run out. Iris Kennedy had to face her reality.

The time had come.

1953 – Louisa

Louisa arrived at the port with twenty minutes to spare. The stench of rotting seaweed penetrated the salty air but the calm waters lapping against the pier pylons soothed her. The scenario reminded her of arriving in Buenos Aires: she was lost, lonely and desperate to find her place in the world—the exact feelings plaguing her now.

Louisa gave a small sigh and tiptoed to a dark corner where she was hidden from the dockworkers but close enough to observe people entering the gates. She pulled down the brim of her hat to obscure her eyes, her most distinctive feature and the one all Argentines recognised. She'd done a terrible job with cutting her locks but the black hair dye she'd used looked convincing. Louisa squinted and adjusted the glasses on her nose. She doubted anyone would notice a pair of glasses missing from Eduardo's extensive collection, although using Eduardo's possessions to cover her trail didn't sit well with her.