Chapter 11
Dinner Conversations
Lillian
THE ENTIRE PARTY returns for dinner. From the nod that Ben gives me when he takes his seat far across the table, I know that whatever he and Ademir needed to do has been accomplished. Thankfully, no one else noticed their fashionably late entrance due to the food being served.
Bruno has held nothing back. Filling the table are both feijoada, Brazil’s national dish, and churrasco, which is a style of barbecue. I doubt the others have ever tasted meat as good as the picanha being served straight to their plates.
My own mouth waters as a waiter skewers the perfect serving.
I’m just about to disappear into the taste of the cut of meat when a familiar laugh distracts me.
I’m immediately overcome with nostalgic joy when I glance at the door to find little Carlos coming in to join us.
Well, I suppose he is not so little anymore.
Bruno rises to greet his brother, leaving me to explain. My smile permeates the sudden distrust from the rest of the group. “This is Carlos Souza, Bruno’s little brother.” The explanation is enough to calm the interest. Most go back to their meals, but Margaret’s and James’s eyes linger.
When we’ve all settled again, someone turns the RCA radio on, providing a lovely background to the meal.
For a moment, everything feels like it should.
My fingers absentmindedly brush the necklace at my chest, as if I need to remind myself of the task at hand.
There will be no true relaxing until this thing is over.
When the food is cleared to make way for dessert, Bruno tells everyone that the shopping was successful and that each item would be delivered to our wing in the house.
Oliver brightens for the first time today when the radio is mentioned, but Bruno moves on quickly.
He continues to prattle on about how he made sure to supply us with the finest equipment, but I knew he would not do anything less, so my mind wanders as the dessert is finally placed in front of us.
I’m delighted to see the delicacy Bruno is serving is pavê, a cake that tiramisu could never replace.
I even remember the first time I tried the dessert.
My father made such a big deal of it, comparing it to the far superior trifle cakes he had grown up with in England.
He made sure the English cake was our dessert for a month after we returned from that trip.
It never compared. English things never did in my mind.
“Bruno told you about your German friends, right?” Carlos leans in at my left side, where he had pulled up a chair when he arrived. His brother is still speaking, so I let the comment wash over me and lean toward him slightly.
“We haven’t had a chance to be alone,” I answer, cutting into the top layer of the cake.
He huffs out a laugh. “Oh, so he hasn’t told you his grand plan of joining you for your expedition.”
This causes me to rear back. Carlos puts a hand on my thigh, encouraging me to continue to act the part. “How could he have had the time to plan such a thing? He had no idea we would be coming in this state. No equipment and exhausted temperaments.”
Carlos’s eyes change, becoming more sorrowful. I suddenly feel guilty. I should be glad of his help. “He wants to help you. The last time…what happened…he was not the same for a long while after. Please let—”
“What are you two whispering about?” Margaret asks from across the place settings. Suddenly the whole table turns to us. Bruno’s spiel trails off.
I can feel Carlos holding his breath, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
He shouldn’t feel guilty in the slightest. Sick of Margaret’s incessant snooping, I smile at her coolly.
“Oh, only that we’ve recruited another to our group.
” I then turn to Bruno who has lost a little color in his face. “Care to share, Bruno?”
To his credit, Bruno plays the part well.
“It was meant to be a surprise,” he says to his brother through slightly gritted teeth.
“I’ve made sure that my most equipped riverboat is prepared for the journey.
” Before anyone can protest, Bruno continues, “I have interests—assets in the northern Amazon. I would like to go with you and offer my services. My men as well.”
“That’s not necessary,” James says with a laugh. “We can manage with the people we have in place. There is a reason you were not included in the original plans.”
“Plans change,” Ben chimes in.
“Not without the proper voices deeming them to change,” Mr. Bennett mumbles. I would expect him to be the most likely one to encourage Bruno to join us since he loves having every comfort. Bruno would easily provide more ease down the river.
The men continue to go back and forth even though anyone sane would know that Bruno has the leg up on the rest of us. Without him, we wouldn’t be refueled, rested, and safe. Without him, we certainly wouldn’t be prepared enough to go back out on the river.
With seemingly no end to conversation within reach, I lean over to Carlos once again to whisper. “What of the business?”
“I’m to run it in his absence.”
I give him a sad nod and quickly grip his hand under the table. Carlos never studied the business and was much more interested in filmmaking. I hate that they will be sacrificing for me. They should both be living happy lives far away from these truths I’ve brought to their doorstep.
A surprising voice shatters the rest. “This is bigger than any one of us!” Mr. Bennett rises from the table, palms placed firmly in front of him.
“Mr. Souza has been a friend of our cause for years.” He takes the time to look us all in the eye, and for the first time, I start to understand why Mr. Morgan and the government chose him to represent them.
The look he gives is unmoving, unforgiving even.
It turns harder when he gazes at Bruno. “But if, at any point, I give you an order to turn around, to forget, to do anything at all, you and your men will listen. If you do not, if I suspect you of anything, there will be hell to pay.”
Again, Bruno plays it correctly. He bows slightly, grinning in a way that only Carlos and I could understand his true intentions. “Anything you please.”
“That settles it,” Mr. Bennett says, easing back into his chair. “Have your men ready to leave tomorrow morning and—”
“They’re ready now, if you’d like,” Bruno counters with a cocky smile.
Mr. Bennett raises an eye, surely already rethinking his decision. “Tomorrow.”
The conversation is left at that. Actually, all the conversations are. There is not another word uttered for the rest of the meal.
When the sun has long since set and the house creaks with emptiness, I take leave of my room. Tiptoeing down the hallway, I make sure to listen for any voices or signs of alertness. Besides a distant rumbling snore, no sound permeates from the hall doors.
Seeing it as my chance, I dart to the main part of the house and quickly climb the main staircase.
If Bruno has any sense of nostalgia, he’ll already be waiting for me.
When we were young, we would meet out on the ledge of the third floor.
We would sit and talk for hours; other nights we’d use it as our escape.
The memories of those first visits here come back to me as I climb another flight and then turn down an abandoned hallway. The window is open ahead, telling me that Bruno has indeed decided to take a chance on a meeting.
When I reach the windowsill, I finally realize how dangerous and wild we had to have been as children. One wrong foot and you could easily fall the three stories down.
“I haven’t been up here since the last time you visited, you know.
” Bruno’s voice has me looking up to the left.
Sure enough, on the ledge of the roof, he sits in wait for me.
The last time I stayed here must have been 20 years ago.
I grant him a smile and put a foot up onto the sill. “I have to warn you, Lillian…”
I pause my movements to stare up at him, waiting for some grand revelation.
I’m met with a ridiculous grin and then, “It’s a much tighter squeeze.”
He reaches for me as I roll my eyes at his observation. I have to lower my head to stifle a grin of my own. Half out the window, I place a toe on the brick that’s forever jutted out slightly and then swing my other leg up onto the ledge.
Safely up, I lean against the slant of the roof and look up at the sky. “Yes,” I say in response to his earlier comment, “but the view is just as grand as I remember it being.”
He still has my hand in his. He can’t seem to let go, so I squeeze to remind him of his restraint.
The grip falls away slowly, painfully even, but he doesn’t say a word as he parts from me.
I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
Even if Ben and I haven’t been romantic, I can’t get our last intimate conversation out of my head.
I couldn’t do anything to betray that growth, even something as simple as holding a male friend’s hand.
Seeing it as the most comfortable position, Bruno mirrors my stature, save for one dangling leg over the edge. Together we look up at the sky, a sky that hasn’t changed despite everything down here changing drastically.
“Why?” I ask a short time later. “Why are you risking yourself by coming with us?”
He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You and Ben are outnumbered.” I’m about to protest in any way that I can find, but he’s not finished. “I don’t trust the others at all.”
My stomach goes queasy. Distrust had been Ben’s first gut feeling as well, and he hasn’t said a word about those feelings changing. “We have Ademir and Diederick with us,” I answer weakly.
“I love the man, Lillian,” Bruno says in regard to Ademir. “He will be useful in navigation and decision-making, but if you stumble across the other group… If your new friends have ulterior motives… If Diederick is playing you all…”
I won’t hear conspiracies about Diederick. “Ulterior motives?” I ask. “Bruno, despite your clever illusion at dinner, your own loyalties lie with Brazil and her interests.”
His eyes are brazen, reflecting the silver light of the moon and the warmth of the lamps on the lawn below us. “Brazil is exactly where my loyalties lie, Lillian.” The brown of his eyes softened as quickly as they had hardened. “You and your well-being are an extension of that.”
My heart takes the beating his confession imposes, and I let out a sharp breath. He threatens to go on, but I don’t know if I can take any further revelations of his heart.
“Okay,” I say, letting out another quick breath.
“Okay?” he asks, confused that I’d give in so easily when I’ve only ever pushed back with him.
“You’re right. We need people we can trust.” I run a hand through my hair to buy me a few seconds. “Negotiating payment for you and your men may be a problem, but if I can reach Mr. Morgan by tele—”
Bruno reaches forward and rests a hand on my arm. “There’s no need, Lillian. We are going to protect the forest and its history. We will gladly do that without reward.”
The negativity in the air lightens at that. How refreshing to hear a man speak of his intentions without secrecy and red tape. Taking his hand in mine once again, I let a confession of my own slip. “What I wouldn’t give to go out dancing with you again here in Manaus.”
“We can!” he answers, practically throwing himself to his feet.
“Ahh, but there’s information you haven’t told me,” I say, now looking up at him towering above me. “Our friends, the Germans, are out there. I’d hate to run into them.”
“Who told you?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.
Despite the nerves that commandeer me at the thought of Ivo being near, I loosen a laugh that had been tightening in my chest. “Carlos, who else?”
It’s Bruno’s turn to laugh as he sits beside me again. “Always the troublemaker, never the trouble.”
I let the sentiment rest a minute. I hardly want to accuse him of not telling me, but I want to keep the accountability between us going. “You weren’t going to tell us?”
“They’re in the river district. We wouldn’t run into them.” He’s still thinking about the dancing. “Besides, they aren’t planning to embark for three days yet. We’re leaving tomorrow.” He says it so easily. “I promise it won’t be a problem.”
I wish I could so easily believe him. “They tried killing me, Bruno.” I don’t know why, but I tell him everything.
From the terror of waking up with them over me to the water that I thought would swallow me whole.
I don’t even feel guilty telling him about Ben, how he had shielded me and protected me from the moment he came for me in that cargo hold.
Bruno, to his credit, listened to each word with intent. When he reaches out to me one last time, as I’ve finished sharing, I understand how fortunate I am to have him in my life. “None of this is fair to you.”
“And it’s fair to you?” I have to tamp down the urge to cry.
He clears his throat of emotions. With a shrug, he says the same words I’ve uttered time and time again. “I just wish to see this finished.”