“Oh?” he grinned. “What city did you grow up in?”
“My parents were American, as you can tell.” He nodded. “They moved to London when I was very young. To this day, if I hang around someone with an English accent, I slip into it accidentally and start talking just like they do.”
“But you kept your American accent. Interesting.”
She raised a glass to her lips slowly and took a long sip, biting her lip teasingly as she finished. “Never forget where you came from and who you really are.”
“A motto to live by, for certain.”
She shrugged. “In a world lacking principles, one must have something to hang one’s hat on.”
“Very true,” he agreed and then sat up. “You know, you told me your name was Madelyn Winter. My men couldn’t find any information on that person except for a few images of you on the Internet.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I wonder: Would I find any information about Jorge Sanchez if I did a little searching?”
He tilted his head to the side and looked into the pool. Two escorts in bikinis frolicked in the shallow end as two of his bodyguards watched on, amused at their antics. “Many people know who I am. I’m sure the Internet is full of information about me, some of it true, some of it not.”
She straightened up and narrowed her eyes as if appraising him. “If I had to guess, all of the worst details are probably true.” She winked and took another sip of wine. “Someone in your position has to be ruthless. You can’t tame wild animals without being willing to deal out some discipline.”
His right eyebrow rose approvingly. “An interesting way of putting it. And I agree. This nation,” he waved a hand around at the darkness surrounding the estate, “is full of wild animals. Our corrupt government does nothing to tame them. People say the cocaine industry is evil. Cannot the same be said about real estate, oil, alcohol? Those things have ruined lives, killed people, and destroyed the environment. I run a business that gives people a product they want. Does it kill them? Sure, eventually. Sometimes, sooner than later, but is that my fault? Is the car maker to blame for someone who dies in a car crash? Usually, no. It’s the driver, no?”
She smiled. This guy really does believe this BS. “Finally,” she said emphatically. “Someone who understands the way I think. It’s just a business, like anything else. How people use our product is up to them. They don’t have to buy it, just like I don’t have to buy a motorcycle. Everyone knows those things are dangerous, but people buy them anyway.”
Sanchez set his wine down on the glass coffee table in front of them and put his arm around her shoulder. He reached out with his other hand and stroked her cheek. “Who are you really, Madelyn Winter? Or don't I get to know that?”
“You can call me anything you like if you can set up a good deal for me.”
His face creased in a broad smile. “Well, that all depends on what Espinoza thinks of you. He’ll want to know what your distribution chain looks like on the other end. And of course, he won’t touch delivery and transportation across the US border.”
“Of course not. Because he’s smart. There’s too much to risk. But if he has a new distribution chain—”
“Francisco has a distribution chain in America. He has several. What do you have that’s any different to what he already has in place?” He had interrupted her with a good question, one that she wasn’t sure she could provide the answer for.
“I believe I can cut his costs by around 40 percent.”
Sanchez shuffled in his seat. Both eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really? How do you plan on doing that?”
She toyed with him. “Now, if I give away all the goods, why would you even need to introduce me to him? You could go and pull it off yourself. My numbers are solid. And I know I can do it. I have the money and the people in place to make it happen. All I need is the product. Espinoza’s cocaine is good, good enough for my high-end clients anyway. You get me the blow; I can make us all a lot of money for it.”
“We have money,” Sanchez said, putting both arms up to display the lavish surroundings.
Allyson leaned back with an are-you-kidding-me expression. “Yeah, you do, but if given the option of more money or less money, I’m going to take more money every time. Wouldn’t you?”
His smile returned. “Very true. There’s no such thing as too much of it.” He reached forward and picked up his glass again, raising it to his lips. He took a long sip and sighed. “This is $900 a bottle.”
“Tastes like it,” she said, grabbing her glass and taking another drink. “How many bottles do you have?”
“Ten, counting this one. There are only two hundred left in the world.”
“I’m honored,” she said, bowing her head. “But you were unwise to share it with me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m clumsy.”
Sanchez blurted out a laugh and turned away for a minute. The girls in the pool had tossed their bikini tops on the coping, much to the delight of the bodyguards. “I like you,” he said, “but I don’t trust you.”
“I’m not offended. I don’t trust you either. You’re a drug dealer.”
He was in the middle of taking another sip when she made the statement, and he nearly coughed up his wine. When he recovered, he pointed at her. “That’s a good point, American girl.”
“Thank you. And you’re right not to trust me. I’ve delivered nothing for you yet. But I will.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then kill me,” she shrugged.
“You’re not afraid of death?” He leaned forward. His face took on a serious expression.
Allyson blinked fast and swallowed. “Most people fear death. Why should I be any different?”
“True. But you’ve put yourself into a business where death lurks around every corner. If you make a mistake, you end up in a hole in the ground.”
She put down her glass and uncrossed her legs. “I’m not afraid of dying,” she said. “And I’m not afraid of you.” She reached out her hand, wrapped it around the back of his head, and pulled him forward. Their lips met and locked together for seven long seconds before she pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” she offered. “We shouldn’t mix business with pleasure. But there’s something about you…”
“Perhaps you like something about wicked men.”
“It doesn’t hurt that you’re extremely handsome.”
The compliment rolled off him. “And you are quite beautiful. Like you said, however, we shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.”
She looked pensive for a moment as she pretended to consider what to say next. She’d planned the whole conversation, including what would happen after. Sex was something Allyson had been using to get what she wanted or needed for quite some time. Men were easily appeased by it, and more often than not let down their guard for it. She’d expected Sanchez to be a little more alert to the ruse, but to him she was exotic, a taste of something different in a world of fruits that had long turned bland to his palate.
“We shouldn’t,” she said in a sultry tone. “What we shouldn’t do and what we actually do sometimes tend to be two completely different things. Don’t they?”
His lips creased with pleasure. He could still smell the scent of her flowery perfume on his clothes. “We can worry about business tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to Espinoza at his party, and if he’s willing to talk, we can go over the details.” He reached out and pulled her close again, nearly whipping her head back. “But tonight, we can focus on pleasure.”
21