JORGE VIANA'S SUBSTITUTE surprised everyone expecting a man, as she was a woman in her late thirties, dressed discreetly, and had the air of an intellectual. Her name was Antônia Sala, and her credentials were a perfect combination of impeccable virtues.
She studied Archaeology to please her father, but her love of literature led her to pursue a degree in Library Science and Documentation. For a time, she worked at the National Library, although she later had to give up such an enviable job to travel to Egypt as a paleographer, accompanying an expedition that planned to spend a year in the Valley of the Kings. She then moved to the United States, where she gave numerous lectures on prehistoric hieroglyphics and the hieratic symbols of Ancient Egypt.
Back in Spain, she collaborated with Incunables magazine for a time, and spent the last two years in Barcelona working at a renowned archaeological auction house.
An unforeseen circumstance, however, forced her to return to Madrid a few weeks ago, a setback Geovanna seized upon to offer her a temporary contract, testing her capabilities, a situation far below her professional qualifications. In any case, the director of Hiperión was sincere in saying she would replace Jorge for a short period of time. Antônia didn't mind. Her professional situation was resolved in the blink of an eye. They immediately hit it off.
Geovanna returned to her office after meeting Antônia. Her first impression was that she was a person of both economic and cultural resources. She was clearly attractive — just look at the way men looked at her — but she didn't seem like one of those frivolous women who likes to flirt with anyone. She was very reserved. If she had to win over a man, she would do it subtly and intelligently.
Forgetting about her replacement, Geovanna returned to her work. She was consulting a copy of Vita Christi, by Friar Íñigo de Mendoza. It was the first book of poetry published in Spanish, and that, for her, was something very important. Each work had its own story, each text was special. Touching the aged spine of an incunabula and knowing that other lovers of knowledge, like her, had, for centuries, pored over the intoxicating world of its pages, gave her immense pleasure, and in some way, gratified her for so many years dedicated to the study of books. Its market price was one of the most interesting in recent years. It would go to auction with a starting price of 69,000 euros. Previously, in 2000, the same copy had been asking for around 11 million pesetas, the old Spanish currency.
She held, therefore, a small fortune in her hands, but above all, what she was handling was a fragment of Spain's literary history. For her, that held the greatest value. The phone in her office rang. She recognized Gregory Evans's number on the small screen. Before answering, she carefully placed the incunabula in a velvet-lined cedar box and locked it in her desk drawer. Immediately, she picked up her cell phone.
— So... how are you? — were her first words, sensing there would be new news.
"...I've deciphered the text... — he said on the other end of the line. — ...I need you to come here as soon as possible!"
Geovanna made a gesture of satisfaction, clenching her fist while simultaneously moving her bent arm. Then, looking up, she saw through the windows of her office that Colmenares was staring at her. He was in the front room, talking on his cell phone. Their eyes met for a few seconds. The lawyer had no choice but to return his attention to the papers on the table. He had indeed seen that his boldness bordered on brazenness.
"... Are you there?" — Greg asked again on the other end of the line.
She reacted by turning her chair so that her back was to the lawyer.
— Listen... — he said confidentially. — I won't be able to escape until lunchtime. You wait for me there... I'll come as soon as I can.
"... Geovanna, I now know why Jorge wanted me to read the manuscript. I was the only one in a position to help him..."
— I've changed my mind. I'll be right there.
He hung up the phone without even saying goodbye. He immediately got up, grabbed his coat and bag, and headed down the hallway in search of someone. His mind, meanwhile, was spinning around for an excuse that would allow him to be absent from work until the afternoon. He found the director sitting in her office, reading a memo while absentmindedly stirring the spoon in her coffee cup. He dropped what he was doing when he saw her arrive.
— Ah...! It's you! — he commented after putting the paper aside. — What do you think of Antonia?
— I believe she's sufficiently prepared for the position...
They remained silent for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, unsure of what to say. The boss He cleared his throat and resumed speaking:
— Very well... how can I help you? — he concluded gravely, imagining the situation might drag on.
— I have to go back to my apartment... My downstairs neighbor just called me. He said water is dripping through the ceiling in his bathroom, which is directly below mine. Apparently, there's a leak in the pipes.
He gave a worried look, which seemed quite convincing.
— Wow, what a hassle!" his boss replied, realizing she would have to do without her employee for a few hours. "I hope you can fix it in time to be here at four-thirty.
— Don't worry. I'll leave everything in the hands of my insurance company. They'll send a plumber, but I have to leave the apartment key with the building's doorman, in addition to making a series of phone calls.
His boss gave him permission to leave, reminding him that the auction would be held in a few days and that, therefore, she needed the cooperation of all the employees.
Geovanna left the director's office with the satisfaction of having been able to lie without her legs shaking. It was the first time she had done something like this at work. She blamed her behavior on the fact that Gregory Evans had managed to decipher the manuscript much earlier than expected. The director herself would have run to meet him if she knew.
She headed for the lobby, but before opening the door to leave, she looked back. Colmenares was still on the phone, staring at her insolently. It was possible to say he was spying on her. Faced with such brazenness, she turned away, frowning, and left the office, thinking that perhaps that clingy man was undressing her with his eyes. She forgot about the lawyer as she stepped off the elevator, feeling a heat between her legs.