After an hour, she felt dizzy from drink and anticipation of where the night might lead.
‘Are you from Colombia?’ she asked, trying to recall what she’d read on the back of his book.
‘I actually live in New York now, but my family are from Parador, just close to Colombia. People call us Colombia’s little echo.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning we have many of the same problems. Coca, from which cocaine is made, is our biggest cash crop, and while we don’t produce anywhere near as much coke as Colombia, we still have too much for the needs of Parador.’
‘So it all gets exported?’
He nodded. ‘The drug cartels are more powerful than the government. Which causes trouble for my family. My brother is leader of CARP, one of the opposition parties in Parador. They pledge to bring down the drug lords. Although how much anyone can really do is questionable.’
‘I had no idea,’ said Grace, leaning closer. ‘So is your dad a politician too?’
Gabriel looked away. ‘He’s dead.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘He was assassinated over twenty years ago in Palumbo, our capital, just before he was about to be elected president. I was thirteen. Since then, Parador has taken huge strides backwards; we’re almost a third-world country now. Two years ago my uncle took over the party and my brother Carlos is the new figurehead, fighting for justice and social initiative, campaigning against our corrupt government who accept money and favours from drug barons.’
‘Why not you?’
‘I was born second,’ he said with a small smile. ‘Anyway, Carlos is good; the people believe in him. I’m not sure the same would be true with me.’
‘But isn’t it terribly dangerous for your brother?’ asked Grace, her face so serious, Gabriel laughed.
‘All change involves risk,’ he said. ‘I am proud of him for making a stand.’
‘I wish I could say the same about my brother,’ replied Grace, instantly wishing she hadn’t.
‘Really? Do you not get along?’
‘Not really.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m not sure he’s a good person. The frustrating thing is that nobody else sees it. He’s been lined up to take over my father’s company even though he’s arrogant, expectant, underhand . . .’
‘Or maybe because of it.’
Grace laughed. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Anyway, I can understand the pressures of family expectations,’ said Gabriel. ‘They’re proud of my achievements, of course, but Parador is an inward-looking country. To them, anything which happens outside the motherland is irrelevant. Including my writing career.’
‘Yeah, my dad’s like that with the business. I could be the world’s greatest artist or musician, but if you’re not doing it for the family, it’s not important.’
Gabriel raised his bottle in a toast. ‘To being the black sheep of the family. To rebellion!’
Grace was uncomfortable discussing it. Then again, the fact that she had even talked about Miles at all suggested a connection with Gabriel she hadn’t felt with anyone else.
‘So where next?’ she said, not wanting the night to end.
‘Actually, I did have one idea,’ said Gabriel. They walked back down Macrossan Street until they came to his hotel, and he summoned a valet to get his car.
‘Being involved with the movie has one or two advantages,’ he confided in a low voice. ‘First, they all think I’m some LA hotshot here and treat me like a king. And second . . .’ he said, as the valet roared up in a silver convertible Saab, ‘I know a few secrets.’
They got in the car and drove up into the hills, the headlights carving their way through the dark. For a second Grace thought how foolish it was being driven off by someone she had known just a few hours. But then she felt the thrill of being in a fast car with a strange man, not entirely sure where she would end up, or how the night would finish. So this is what adventure feels like, she thought and giggled.