Plata

by Ivy Mason

  The man behind the desk waved Ramon over, while the others sat in obsequious silence. Ramon cleared his throat and approached the bearded man.

  “I’d like a cigarette,” he said in a low, strange voice. “May I reach into my jacket pocket?”

  The bearded man gave him a cold stare, then nodded at the tall man in the white suit, who walked over to Ramon. He pulled out a silver cigarette box and held it open. With a grunt, Ramon picked out a cigarette and slipped it between his lips. Like a waiter at the club, the tall man flicked a lighter, gallantly offering the flame to Ramon.

  “So,” said the bearded man, whose voice was nasal and low. “Is this it?”

  His eyes fixed on Madison, who audibly gasped with surprise. But no one seemed to notice or care about her fear.

  Ramon pulled hard on his cigarette and nodded. “Yup.”

  The man leaned over his desk, eying Madison up and down. Ramon had set her up, she thought. She wasn’t here to be his date. He wanted something else entirely, something sinister. She looked at Ramon, but he seemed to have forgotten her for the moment. His focus was on the bearded man, who he watched, squinting through the cigarette smoke, as if waiting for his next move.

  “Extraordinary,” the man mumbled.

  He slowly rose to his feet and made his way around the desk, hobbling like an old man, though he wasn’t more than fifty. When he reached Madison, he reached out a liver-spotted hand and stroked her waist. Too afraid to protest, Madison stood frozen, holding her breath. The man nodded his approval, and walked behind Madison. He stopped, and she could hear his chain-smoker’s wheeze very near. Then she felt his hand run the length of her back and down along her bottom. When he stepped in front of her again, he slowly dragged his fingers over her breasts, stopping to tweak her nipple. Madison jumped, but the men in the room burst into laughter. She glared at Ramon, hating him more than she’d ever hated another human being. But he stared straight ahead, smoking and waiting.

  At last the man went back to his desk and sat down. He stared at Madison for a moment longer, and then nodded at his assistant. As the white-suited man approached Madison, he pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt. She felt her knees buckle. Not knowing what to do, she grabbed onto Ramon.

  “Please,” she begged, her eyes filling with tears. “Don’t let him…”

  But Ramon pushed her away impatiently. “Go ahead,” he assured the man. “She’s fine.”

  The bearded man at the desk let out a grunting laugh and shook his head with amusement. “Women get so attached to beautiful things.”

  There was laughter from the group again. As Ramon held Madison still, the white-suited man positioned his blade against her stomach. Tears streamed down her face, as she flashed on the stories she’d heard about women being snatched from Tijuana streets to be raped and murdered at wealthy snuff parties. She felt like such an idiot to have chased money all the way to this horrible place;to these nefarious men. And yet it seemed somehow right. Just like her father, it was money that would be the death of her.

  Madison bit her lip and closed her eyes, anticipating the pain. But the blade of the man’s knife only grazed the thick fabric, splitting it apart. She opened her eyes and saw that the dress was lined through and through with hard, pressed cocaine.

  Once an agreement was reached, the atmosphere in the room immediately lightened. The somber men on the sofas pulled out their cigarettes, and the man in the white suit brought in a bottle of Patrón tequila, and a tray full of glasses. The bearded man slapped Ramon on the back and shook his head in wonder.

  “It’s quite lovely,” he said, still admiring the dress. “And what’s inside it isn’t so bad, either.”

  Ramon smiled. “Keep it. As a gesture of friendship and good faith.” He turned to Madison. “Take it off, honey.”He gestured casually at the dress as if he were asking her to remove her shoes at the door.

  She stared at him in horror. “Right now?”

  His expression darkened, and he glowered at her. “Now.”

  Without another word, Madison pulled off the tight dress. There was a hush over the room as the men smoked and watched her bare herself. She wanted to cover her breasts with her arms, but forced herself to stand tall. What was one more time? The bearded man smiled and nodded his approval. He put his hands on her breasts and gave them a squeeze, as if she were nothing more than a blowup doll gag gift. Something trifling and expendable.

  Madison was humiliated, but relieved. Ramon beckoned to Gilberto, who was sprawled on the sofa with the other men, silently smoking and drinking. With great effort, he pulled his ample body off the couch and waddled over.

  “Give Arizona your jacket,” Ramon commanded.

  Gilberto shrugged out of his massive blazer. He draped it around Madison’s shoulders, dwarfing her completely. It was musky and damp, but she gladly pulled it around her. Ramon put a hand on the small of her back and guided her to the door. Gilberto followed like a somber Rottweiler trailing his owner.

  “Take her home,” Ramon muttered. “Walk her inside. Give her the rest of the fucking plata. Then come back here.”

  He opened the door and gently pushed her through it.

  “What did I say, blondie?” he grumbled. “Easy money. Easy fucking money.”

  Chapter 16

  Madison and Enzo stayed up most of the night sitting on her bedroom floor counting money. There was so much of it, and the more they looked at it the more meaningless and mundane it began to seem. Smooth paper rectangles filled with garish drawings, cryptic words, and strange numbers. Soon a pale light glowed in the windows and the canaries began to sing from beneath their shroud.

  Enzo had listened to Madison’s whole account of the night without saying a word. Instead they’d sat amongst the piles of bills, shuffling them distractedly, talking about other things. They’d talked about her family. They’d talked about when she would go back to college, and how Enzo should visit her there. They’d talked about whether Enzo would stay in Mexico or make a move to Miami. It wasn’t until their bodies were stiff, and the city was wide-awake and rumbling outside that Enzo finally spoke his mind.

  “You realize that you have to leave,” Enzo said frankly. “You have to leave today.”

  Madison furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve dipped your toe in that pool,” he said. “Trust me. I’ve known a lot of people who thought they could make a little money with these types and get out. And it just doesn’t work that way.”

  Just hearing him say it made Madison feel sick. “You make it sound like I took a suitcase full of drugs over an international border.”

  Enzo just shrugged. His own past was too stained to moralize to anyone, but he was always a pragmatist.

  “You wore a dress made of cocaine to a meeting of traffickers.” He carefully collected the stacks and put them back into the duffle bag. “But you did it to rescue what’s left of your family. That’s all that matters.”

  He zipped up the bag and set it on top of the bed. Then he pulled Madison’s suitcase out of the closet and opened it up. Inside, there was still a faded pair of blue jeans and a small stack of cotton tee shirts that she’d never worn. Enzo smiled and pulled out a tee shirt. He held it up and gazed at it fondly; nostalgically.

  “I remember this girl,” he said softly. He lay the tee shirt on the bed along with the pair of jeans. “I adore this girl. You need to forget Arizona. Go back and be this girl again.”

  He mapped out their plan for the day. When businesses opened, he would call his travel agent friend and arrange a last minute ticket to Denver. Then he’d schedule an appointment with the bank where Madison had set up an account. They had a private, secure room for large cash transactions. Then they would wire the money to her US account, and he’d take her to the airport.

  “What about Pierre? I have to say goodbye. He doesn’t even know how to contact me in the States.”

  Enzo sat down beside her and put an arm aro
und her shoulders. “Sweetie, you’re done here. It’s time to leave all of this behind—all of it—and set your sights on the future.”

  As if to illustrate his point, he picked up Madison’s black, backless dress, which was in a heap on the floor beside him, and tossed it into the wastebasket. Madison stared at him.

  “You’re saying I should forget Pierre?”

  Enzo took her hand and leaned against her. “Trust a guy who knows,” he said gently. “You have to leave behind the good with the bad. Otherwise they get all tangled up together, and you can never be free of it.”

  Madison’s felt a cold, heavy weight in her chest. She thought of Pierre’s eyes, and how they changed like the stone of a mood ring. No one had ever looked at her the way he did; like someone in love. She thought of his voice, and the way he muttered passionately in French when he was aroused. And she remembered the weight of his beautiful body on top of hers, and how she’d never feel it or touch it again. But maybe Enzo was right, she thought. It was time to look toward the future, however lonely it may be. It was time to get back to her mother and put the remaining pieces of their lives together again.

  Madison packed her suitcase, filling it with both the old clothes she’d brought with her and the fashionable new ones. After all, she thought, both Madisons were a genuine part of her. But the long gowns she’d worn in the club were dropped in the trash. It wasn’t a gesture of regret. She was glad for everything she’d experienced in her short stint at The Gentlemen’s Club, and how much she’d learned, both the good and the bad. It was time to forever close this chapter in her story.

  By noon, they’d deposited and wired the money and purchased a ticket for a direct flight leaving mid-afternoon. Madison told Enzo that she wanted to get to the airport early so that she could relax and read her book, and not worry about missing her flight. But in truth, she just wanted it all to be over. It was hard enough to leave the city that way; but sitting around waiting to leave would be excruciating.

  Madison grabbed her jacket and purse, and Enzo rolled her suitcase out the door. Then Madison paused for a moment, gazing up at the façade and marveling at how much had happened since she’d arrived.It felt like she’d been there forever, and yet it hadn’t even been three weeks. Enzo put an arm around her shoulder and led her toward the gate.

  “You did it,” he said affectionately. “I knew you would.”

  It was a temperate, clear winter day. Perfect for flying. Madison relished the feel of the sun on her skin, knowing that it was probably snowing in Denver. Her body hummed with fatigue from the sleepless night, but her mind was wide-awake. They made their way down the outside corridor and out the gate to the street.

  Immediately, Madison drew in a sharp, surprised breath, feeling her heart skittered in her chest. Pierre’s town car was double-parked outside, the engine turned off, as if he’d been waiting a while. Madison stood paralyzed on the sidewalk, staring at the dark tinted window.

  “What’s wrong?” Enzo asked.

  But when the back door opened and Pierre stepped out into the street, it became clear to him. Pierre was wearing a London Fog trench coat over his usual suit and tie. His eyes were puffy, his face haggard with exhaustion. The sight of him sent a surge of emotion through Madison, and tears filled her eyes. Pierre sized up her jeans and tee shirt, and gave her a weary smile.

  “No glasses?”

  Madison wiped at her eyes and tapped at her purse. “In here.”

  Pierre gave a short, nervous laugh. Madison had never seen him nervous. For some reason, it made her adore him even more.

  “Adam was at the club last night,” he said. “They told him that you hadn’t come in. That your locker had been cleared out.” He leaned against the car and pushed a hand through his hair. It looked as though he hadn’t slept either. “I thought I’d missed the chance to say goodbye.”

  Madison looked sheepishly at the ground, tears sliding from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

  Enzo remained silent, shifting restlessly beside her.

  Pierre nodded. His eyes were stormy. “Madison, I….” The words caught in his throat and he fell silent. For a moment he stood quietly, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the car and looking down at his shoes. Then he cleared his throat and tried again. “I think I am in love with you.”

  Enzo gasped and put a hand to his mouth. He looked at Madison, but she was in a daze, staring at Pierre. She felt like she was on an elevator rising and falling, and had to reach for Enzo’s arm to steady herself. Pierre sighed, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. Madison bit her lip, afraid she might explode with emotion. Finally, Enzo nudged her impatiently.

  “For God’s sake, Madison,” he whispered loudly. “What are you waiting for?”

  Madison laughed. She dropped her coat and purse, and ran into the street, throwing herself in Pierre’s arms. Their mouths fell together. Pierre held Madison’s face firmly in his hands, as if to keep her from slipping away.His breaths were frantic as he continued to kiss her, unable to break away. Madison pushed her fingers into his hair, not knowing what to do with the expansive, almost painful, warmth swelling inside her. When at last she pulled away, she saw tears in his eyes.

  “I won’t forget about you,” she whispered. “I never will.”

  Pierre clutched her hands, and she could feel that he was trembling. Then he let her go and fished for something in the inside pocket of his coat. He pushed a pen into her hands and pulled up his sleeve, revealing the skin of his arm.

  “You must give me your number,” he said, hoarse with emotion. He handed her his phone.

  She smiled. “Of course,” she said. Her hands also trembled as she tapped in the number.

  Pierre pushed the hair from her eyes and looked at her intently. “I’ve always wanted to open an office in the Rocky Mountains.”

  Madison was stunned. “I’m not sure I know what you’re saying,” she breathed. Yet her heart swelled with hope.

  Pierre tucked the pad and pen into his pocket again. “I’m tired of Mexico,” he said, his voice low. “I think it’s time for a change.”

  Madison threw her arms around his neck and gave him a giddy, final kiss. He squeezed her tight and then hesitantly let her go. His eyes were twinkling with the bright morning sky. She’d never seen him look happier.

  “I will call you tonight!” he shouted. “And you will tell me about the best bookstores in Denver!”

  On the way to the airport, the traffic was light,and the Mexico City sky never looked so glorious. Madison gazed out the window at the lovely old colonial houses, dusty trees, and torta vendors. Then she turned to look straight ahead, where the road opened up before them, and for the first time in ages, she was ready for it.