Page 63 of The Secret Dinner

Then it hit me: Umberto Marcondes de Machado. Of course. Since I’d refused to listen to him, he’d decided to play dirty—and he’d won. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.

“Fine, I’ll go. And you know what? With pleasure!” I said, indignant.

“Dante, there’s no need to…”

“Fuck you!” I yelled, slamming the door. Demóstenes came after me. I swore at him in the middle of the store, to the great shock of the old ladies browsing the shelves and the little kids in the children’s section. I grabbed a copy from the bestseller display at the front and shouted:

“Why don’t you wreck this journal and shove it up your ass!”

I threw the book on the floor and left, without looking back. Outside the mall, I burst into tears.

7

I walked all the way to Leme, not paying attention to anything. Just another unemployed person, another statistic. Lying back against Pedra do Leme, with the view of Copacabana beach in front of me, I took off my shoes and put my feet in the sand. The sea was rough, and I didn’t want to risk going in the water, though swimming in my clothes did sound nice.

Once it got dark, I went home. I heard chatter in the living room as I turned the key. Hugo and Piglet, sitting on the couch, had their eyes glued on Umberto, who was standing and gesturing in a dark suit with a purple polka-dot bow tie. Miguel looked like a bum with his shoulders hunched, observing the scene from the armchair in the corner. Umberto interrupted his spiel to welcome me.

“Dante, my boy!”

He walked toward me with open arms, like a good friend. I didn’t hesitate: I shoved the bastard, who fell back onto the couch. Hugo held me back before I could punch him.

“Chill out, Dante, come on!”

Umberto had some nerve showing up at my home and trying to sweet-talk my friends. I wanted to chase him out, but I backed off when Miguel looked up and said to me sorrowfully, “Just hear him out, Dante.”

Miguel was the most honest and ethical guy I knew, and yet he was the one to make that request of me.

“There’s no reason to treat me that way, son.” Umberto got up, straightened his wrinkled jacket, and took a purple handkerchief from his breast pocket to blow his nose. “Hugo told me about the police officer who came knocking. Detective Amóz, right? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure he forgets about this whole thing and won’t bother anyone else.”

Hugo pulled me by the arm and onto the couch, squeezing me between him and Piglet.

“So now you think you can boss around the cops?” I scoffed.

“Status can boss around anyone, kid. We’ve already talked about this.” Umberto placed his hand on Miguel’s shoulder consolingly. “This young man here told me what happened at the hospital … I’ll try to put out that fire, too. After all, we’re going to be partners. Basically family!”

Miguel kept his head down, staring at the ground. Piglet put his index finger to his mouth, asking me to keep quiet.

“Listen, Dante. Just listen,” he murmured.

“Our dinner business is going to be my new baby. I’m going to put all my energy into this. I always play to win. We’re going to put on several more dinner parties and make a shit ton of money. And we’ll split the earnings. Half for me, half for you guys.”

“Only fifty percent?” I asked ironically. “Gee, you really do have our best interests at heart, huh?”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. What’s the problem with fifty percent? I can help in more ways than you can imagine. Not just with capital. With the client portfolio as well. Searching for interested people online will get us into trouble. The Feds could catch us, and then we’re screwed.”

“You’re just a broke, washed-up old man, Umberto. You’re no help at all…”

His face went red and he cleared his throat.

“I know the right people, Dante. I know exactly who would be interested in an exotic experience like this. Congressmen, mayors, businesspeople, artists, lawyers, celebrities, I know everyone. Anybody with money, name or fame, I know them. I’ll tell all my friends at the jockey club, the yacht club, and the golf course. A lot of people will want to get in on this. Your idea is worth its weight in gold, boys!”

“We’re gonna be rich!” said Piglet, with a hearty laugh.

Umberto seized the enthusiasm and added:

“And we’re not going to charge three thousand anymore. From now on it’s five grand a plate. Ten people per dinner. Only high-society types, the real crème de la crème. It’s going to be a hit. Everybody eating … seagull! Just you wait.”

It was outrageous. I waited for one of my friends to react, but all they did was nod their heads in agreement, like a bunch of bobbleheads.