suddenly highlighted the absurdity underlying their entire tour of apartments up until that moment: “This is really nice. What’s the rent like?”
“Six thousand a month,” Carolina replied, now embarrassed about the open acknowledgment that there was really no business purpose to viewing any of the residential properties they had visited.
“Wow. I guess I’ll have to get a job soon,” added Carlos, still dazed by their apparently pointless, two-hour tour of Manhattan apartments – particularly now that he may have inadvertently brought it to an end.
Carolina sensed that the tone might awkwardly change for the worse if she didn’t somehow resurrect the previous energy that had pervaded their time together.
“I could always hire you,” she said, breaking into a playful smile.
“You could hire me?” Carlos asked in skeptical amusement.
“Why not?” she insisted.
“Well…I just didn’t think that brokers had the authority to – ”
“It’s my company.”
“Your company?”
Carolina blushed a bit, realizing that she hadn’t even introduced herself properly.
“Yes. My name is Carolina Arezzo. Pleased to meet you.”
Carlos reddened a little as he extended his hand to meet hers. “The pleasure has been memorably mine.”
They looked each other in the eye, as her hand fit snugly into his firm but gentle handshake. The tension was too much. Carolina turned away and started leading him out of the apartment, gradually letting go of his hand. He followed, feeling somewhat dizzy.
“I’m serious,” she continued, trying to keep an even keel. “It’s not every day that I meet a bilingual Harvard graduate with a sense of humor and charming people skills. And we do need some help.”
“What about an apartment?”
“Did you like any of the ones I showed you?”
“I liked a lot of them…I mean, yes, they were all nice, but I’m not sure if any of them was quite right for me.”
“Let me show you a few more.”
“OK.”
In the cab ride to the next apartment, Carlos tried to process everything that had happened. Carolina sat quietly next to him, looking out the window while trying to calm the churn in her stomach, but stealing occasional glances, as she wondered what exactly was on his mind.
Like a detective who has been reluctantly avoiding a difficult conclusion, but who has an overpowering suspicion that compels him to return to the evidence and review the overall meaning of all of the separate and unrelated clues before him, Carlos mulled over all of the facts that he had discovered about Carolina during their two hours together – two hours that felt as rich and varied as two weeks, yet had passed like two minutes. She was born and raised in Italy but spent ten of her formative years in Spain and Portugal. She speaks fluent English, Italian, Portuguese, and Spanish. In just three years, she graduated from Yale College at the age of twenty, and finished her MBA from Stanford by the age of twenty-two. She’s been in New York since then. In three years, Arezzo Properties Limited grew from one to twenty employees and made a net profit of 1.4 million dollars last year. Carolina Arezzo is the founder and owner of Arezzo Properties Limited. In her spare time, she has been earning her PhD in comparative literature from Columbia University. Carolina Arezzo is by far the most beautiful woman Carlos has ever met. She was born Catholic but no longer practices the religion. Her name begins with the letter C. And she is sitting next to him in the cab.
“Carolina, do you have a valid European passport?”
“Yes. From Italy. Why?”
“And can you name at least five great Latin American writers, at least two of whom are Mexican?”
“Why?”
“It’s too crazy to explain to you right now, but I just need to know.”
“OK,” she said, taking it all in humorous stride. “I’ll give you five great Latin American writers with two from Mexico. Miguel Angel Asturias is from Guatemala and
“Six thousand a month,” Carolina replied, now embarrassed about the open acknowledgment that there was really no business purpose to viewing any of the residential properties they had visited.
“Wow. I guess I’ll have to get a job soon,” added Carlos, still dazed by their apparently pointless, two-hour tour of Manhattan apartments – particularly now that he may have inadvertently brought it to an end.
Carolina sensed that the tone might awkwardly change for the worse if she didn’t somehow resurrect the previous energy that had pervaded their time together.
“I could always hire you,” she said, breaking into a playful smile.
“You could hire me?” Carlos asked in skeptical amusement.
“Why not?” she insisted.
“Well…I just didn’t think that brokers had the authority to – ”
“It’s my company.”
“Your company?”
Carolina blushed a bit, realizing that she hadn’t even introduced herself properly.
“Yes. My name is Carolina Arezzo. Pleased to meet you.”
Carlos reddened a little as he extended his hand to meet hers. “The pleasure has been memorably mine.”
They looked each other in the eye, as her hand fit snugly into his firm but gentle handshake. The tension was too much. Carolina turned away and started leading him out of the apartment, gradually letting go of his hand. He followed, feeling somewhat dizzy.
“I’m serious,” she continued, trying to keep an even keel. “It’s not every day that I meet a bilingual Harvard graduate with a sense of humor and charming people skills. And we do need some help.”
“What about an apartment?”
“Did you like any of the ones I showed you?”
“I liked a lot of them…I mean, yes, they were all nice, but I’m not sure if any of them was quite right for me.”
“Let me show you a few more.”
“OK.”
In the cab ride to the next apartment, Carlos tried to process everything that had happened. Carolina sat quietly next to him, looking out the window while trying to calm the churn in her stomach, but stealing occasional glances, as she wondered what exactly was on his mind.
Like a detective who has been reluctantly avoiding a difficult conclusion, but who has an overpowering suspicion that compels him to return to the evidence and review the overall meaning of all of the separate and unrelated clues before him, Carlos mulled over all of the facts that he had discovered about Carolina during their two hours together – two hours that felt as rich and varied as two weeks, yet had passed like two minutes. She was born and raised in Italy but spent ten of her formative years in Spain and Portugal. She speaks fluent English, Italian, Portuguese, and Spanish. In just three years, she graduated from Yale College at the age of twenty, and finished her MBA from Stanford by the age of twenty-two. She’s been in New York since then. In three years, Arezzo Properties Limited grew from one to twenty employees and made a net profit of 1.4 million dollars last year. Carolina Arezzo is the founder and owner of Arezzo Properties Limited. In her spare time, she has been earning her PhD in comparative literature from Columbia University. Carolina Arezzo is by far the most beautiful woman Carlos has ever met. She was born Catholic but no longer practices the religion. Her name begins with the letter C. And she is sitting next to him in the cab.
“Carolina, do you have a valid European passport?”
“Yes. From Italy. Why?”
“And can you name at least five great Latin American writers, at least two of whom are Mexican?”
“Why?”
“It’s too crazy to explain to you right now, but I just need to know.”
“OK,” she said, taking it all in humorous stride. “I’ll give you five great Latin American writers with two from Mexico. Miguel Angel Asturias is from Guatemala and
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