Blindside. Wilna Adriaanse
poured champagne into a glass and raised it. “Actually I don’t give a damn why you’re here. Ken is somewhere up north until the weekend. Your timing is perfect.”
Like her brother, she spoke a mixture of Afrikaans and English, interspersed with the odd Italian word. Allegretti once told Nick that their mother had taught them Afrikaans at an early age so they could gossip about their father. Their father had taught them Italian for the same reason.
“How long will you be staying?” Gabriella drained the glass and filled it again.
“I’m not sure. Three months, maybe. Depends on how soon I get things in place here.”
She kissed him on the lips again. “You’ve just made my year.” She pulled him up by the hand. “Come, dance with me.”
“I’m here to work.”
“And I’m not part of your work? I’m sure Daddy Dearest ordered you to treat me nicely.”
He shook his head and she went down the stairs on her own. Lady Gaga’s voice came over the enormous sound system. On the crammed dance floor, Gabriella jumped up and down with the other bodies, both arms in the air. She wore a red figure-hugging mini. A figure she liked to display. At thirty-four, she was in no hurry to have children. Nick suspected she was scared of losing that body.
Beauty is a thorny crown, he thought as he watched the women on the dance floor. With her dark hair and sallow complexion, Gabriella Allegretti-Visser had to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but she had a complicated personality, as is often the case with beautiful women. At first glance she was a pleasure-seeker, full of laughter, but the laughter soon faded if she didn’t get her own way, and she became mean and dangerous. Not only to others, but also to herself. She had flirted with him since their first meeting, as she did with all men. There’d always been the temptation to see where it could lead. Sometimes he felt he was being offered a free pass to the family’s inner sanctum. Yet he knew that if he fucked this up, he could expect no mercy. Too many people had sacrificed too much over too long a period to get him here. Gabriella’s curves were a luxury he couldn’t afford right now. Not that he didn’t dream about them sometimes. A man could always dream.
Everyone had hoped Gabi’s second marriage would calm her down, but she was still a loose cannon.
The others at his table sporadically disappeared into the bathroom next to Enzio’s office. Some had the presence of mind to wipe the white powder from their noses before they returned. The later it got, the sloppier they became. Except for the senior government official and his lady friend. Nick wondered whether he held back out of conviction or fear.
When Gabriella came back to the table, she ordered another bottle of champagne and some shooters.
“What do you think of my brother’s new toy?” She motioned with her head in the direction of the office into which Allegretti and Clara had disappeared a while ago.
“She’s beautiful.”
“She used to work at a nail bar!”
“I thought she was a model.”
“A few appearances in a magazine and on a runway don’t make you a professional model.”
“Well, I’m a security guard.”
She knocked back two shooters in quick succession and leaned back with her champagne glass in her hand. “Only because you’re pig-headed. If you’d listened to me, the two of us would have taken over the old man’s business by now.”
“You’re a snob. Give her a chance, you might even get to like her.”
“I’ll never like her,” she said with a pout.
“Because she’s so pretty?”
Gabriella put her hand under his shirt and stroked his chest. “You won’t get me angry tonight. I’m too happy to see you.”
Nick got up and tucked in his shirt. “And now I must do some work.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The apartment.”
“That’s handy.”
He bent down and looked into her eyes. “You’re married.”
“It doesn’t mean I’m happy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She put her hand behind his neck and pulled his head down. “You know there’s only one man who can make me happy.”
Nick stroked her cheek. “You’re bored.” Walking away, he said over his shoulder: “Careful with those shooters.”
“What will you give me if I’m a good girl?”
He shook his head and walked down the stairs. The music was relentless and he felt a dull headache begin to throb behind his eyes.
He popped past the two bars at the back, then walked the length of the walls, stopping for an occasional chat with a security guard. He tracked the shift manager down and asked him to call a meeting with the entire security staff the next day. They talked for a while before he made his way to the bar at the front. He almost laughed when he saw Paul behind the counter. Nick watched him for a while. His faded blond hair was fashionably tousled, the glasses were new and he looked slightly less like an accountant from the 1950s. He had put on a little weight and a trace of a paunch was visible under his shirt. His eye caught Nick’s, but he gave no indication of having seen him. Nick moved to the end of the counter. After a few minutes Paul joined him.
“To what do we owe this honour?”
“I heard rumours that all the fun is in Cape Town these days. I came to see what I’m missing.”
“I see your wit is still razor sharp.”
“How are things around here?” Nick moved his head slightly.
“What does it look like to you?”
“I didn’t think Enzio had it in him to turn the place around.”
Paul shrugged. “Ever heard of a new broom? Just wait, though – the better it goes, the more he considers it his personal playground. He and his friends will drink and snort the place out from under the old man yet.”
Nick smiled. Waste of any kind was abhorrent to Paul.
“When can we get together?”
Paul called to one of the other bartenders before he answered. “Just say the word. Preferably early morning.”
“Let me just find my feet tomorrow. How about Friday at eight? Pick a place and let me know the address.”
“Right.” Paul began to serve the people closest to them and Nick made his way back to the balcony.
Paul Smith had been an accountant when Nick approached him six months earlier to apply for the post of club manager. To everyone’s surprise he got the job. Nick could hardly believe how smoothly he had adapted to his double life. He had an exceptional head for figures and by now Nick suspected he was reading the club’s books like a novel.
Most of Allegretti’s group was on the dance floor, with the exception of a girl who seemed to be sleeping with her head resting on her arms. Allegretti himself was still seated at the table, in close conversation with the official, who hurriedly got to his feet when Nick joined them.
“Thanks for a great evening. I’m ready to hit the sack. But first I must find my partner,” the man said, looking at the writhing bodies below. Allegretti accompanied him down the stairs just as Gabriella emerged from the office. Nick saw her wipe the white powder from under her nose. She was shivering slightly. As if she wasn’t hyped up enough already, Nick thought.
“Wonderful, you’ve finished working. Now it’s my turn.” She moved closer to him and he felt the heat of her body through