“This is Amirjit Saini,” she said. “She’s with the Indian embassy. Amirjit, meet Charlie Hillier.”
“Pleasure,” Charlie said, shaking her hand.
“Charlie’s our new MCO,” Landon said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Oh, really?” Saini tilted her head to one side. “I’m a consular officer as well. You must be really new.”
“I just arrived this week.”
“Then you’re here at an exciting time,” Blanco said, referring to the recent historic meeting between the U.S. president and Raúl Castro. Opinions were mixed on whether this would amount to a significant change in the short term, but there was no question it was a milestone in Cuban history.
“Yes, interesting times.”
“Where were you, before Havana?” Saini asked.
“Actually, this is my first posting,” Charlie said, recognizing a slight widening of the eyes in the two twenty-something women. “I’ve been with Foreign Affairs for a long time, but I’ve been at headquarters until now,” he felt the need to explain.
“A refreshing change, I hope?” Blanco offered.
“It’s hard to argue otherwise in this environment.” He gestured to their surroundings with his empty champagne flute and both women smiled, though Charlie recognized something in Saini’s eyes that was at odds with the white flash of her teeth.
“Havana’s my first posting, too,” she said. “Martina’s the veteran among us.”
“Where were you before Havana?” Charlie asked, trying not to show his surprise at Blanco’s experience.
“I have been in Brussels and New York, at the UN in both cases. But Havana seems like home to me. I studied here for three years. I am very happy to be back.”
“The work here is challenging,” Saini added, “but the people and the place are charming, as I’m sure you’ll discover.” Charlie was about to respond when a tall Cuban man appeared at the edge of their little group. Landon’s reaction on seeing him made the man’s importance clear.
“Señor Ruiz, what a pleasure.” Landon shook his hand, then turned to the others, starting with Blanco. “Gustavo Ruiz, director general of Inmuebles Cubana, this is …”
“We’ve met,” Blanco said, as Ruiz stepped forward to embrace her on both cheeks. “But I don’t believe you’ve met Charlie Hillier, the new Canadian MCO, and Amirjit Saini, consul with the Indian embassy.”
Ruiz gave Charlie’s outstretched hand a perfunctory shake on his way to a two-cheek peck with Saini, which took considerably longer. He remained planted next to her as the conversation continued, and Charlie was so busy trying to think of an appropriate segue into possible building sites in the diplomatic area of Miramar that he barely noticed when Saini wrapped her arm in his and leaned against him. His furtive, sidelong glance at her when he realized they were standing arm-in-arm was met with such an easy smile that all he could do was respond with a dopey grin.
“You were going to show me the inside?” Saini pointed toward the residence.
He stared at the house for an awkward moment before recognizing the part he was being asked to play. “Of course.”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Saini said, leading the way toward the house, tugging Charlie past Ruiz. “So nice to see you again, Señor Ruiz.”
They strolled across the patio and inside the drawing room of the rambling villa, where pockets of guests stood around chatting. They stopped in front of a large painting.
“I’m sorry about that,” Saini whispered, withdrawing her arm from Charlie’s. “It was terribly rude of me, but I’m afraid Mr. Ruiz’s reputation precedes him.”
“My pleasure,” was all Charlie could think of saying. He didn’t really know what Saini’s remark meant, and he didn’t much care, but he was missing the sensuous feeling of her soft, warm skin on his. She was even more beautiful in the muted light of the drawing room.
“I suppose you haven’t had a chance to do much in the way of consular work yet?” she asked, apparently keen to gloss over the reasons for her improvised escape.
“No, not really. I’ve been focused on getting my bearings, so far. I’m sure you have a wealth of experience, though. How long have you been here?”
“Almost three years. I meant what I said earlier, about the work. It really has been worthwhile.”
“You must be nearing the end of your posting, then?” A waiter passed by and they exchanged their empty champagne glasses for full ones. “Will you go back to India?”
“I haven’t really decided. I was considering something in South America,” she said, trailing off. “What about you, Charlie? What brought you to Havana?”
“Mmm,” Charlie mumbled, swallowing a mouthful of champagne while considering his answer. He knew the truth was out of the question, and decided to keep things vague. “I was looking for a change, really. I know it sounds a bit corny.”
“I don’t think it’s corny at all,” Saini said, with a genuine smile. Charlie was still considering pinching himself as he stood next to this exquisite woman in the opulence of the ambassador’s drawing room, sipping champagne and chatting, when a familiar voice brought his dreaming to an abrupt end.
“Charlie. Good to see you. Having an enjoyable evening, I hope?”
“Oh, hello, Ambass— Michael. Yes, thank you.”
“I’d like you to meet my wife, Katherine,” Stewart said, as Charlie came face to face with the tall, graceful woman with an intelligent sparkle in her eyes at Stewart’s side. “Charlie’s our new MCO,” Stewart added, pausing as he glanced at Saini.
“Oh, this is Amirjit Saini,” Charlie said, hoping he got it right — he had never been good with names. “Meet Ambassador Michael Stewart and Katherine Stewart. Amirjit’s with the Indian embassy.”
“So, you’ve just joined us, then?” Katherine Stewart asked him, after exchanging greetings with Saini.
“Just got here on Monday, yes.”
“Well, I hope you’re enjoying yourself and not letting him work you too hard,” she said, laying a slender, jewel-encrusted wrist on her husband’s arm.
“I’m doing my best.”
“Charlie was good enough to show me around the inside a little,” Saini said, looking around the room. “It really is a beautiful house, but I must be getting back outside. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Charlie’s got the place around the corner,” Stewart said to his wife, as they watched Saini leave. “So we’re practically neighbours.”
“It’s a very nice neighbourhood,” Charlie remarked, wondering if being so close to the official residence might be a liability. Then again, it wasn’t as if the houses were in sight of each other.
“You’ve got your family with you, then?” Katherine Stewart sipped her champagne.
“Charlie’s flying solo,” Stewart said, as Charlie noticed a slight change in his wife’s expression.
“I’m divorced,” he felt the strange need to say.
“In that case …” Her smile returned. “Havana’s just the place for you. Just watch out for the staff,” she added, a frown appearing at edges of her pert mouth. “The locals will be falling over themselves when they find out