LAST CUBA LIBRE

CLAUDIO

I need some coke, but that fuck Max is not answering his mobile. I park the Maserati on the side of the road in front of the Planet and go in. The bar is packed for the aperitif and a black DJ with a bandana is playing afro music. I lean on the bar, put an oliva ascolana in my mouth and ask the barman for an Inferno. The guy prepares the cocktail carefully mixing the ingredients – 4/6 of gin, 1/6 vermouth and 1/6 Grand Marnier – and shaking the result with ice.

I hand over a 10 euro bank note and sip the drink. Suddenly, I meet the glance of a girl I met yesterday at the sex party, the blonde from Miami. She is sitting on one of the stools arranged round a circular steel table in the other room, her legs crossed and a Coca Rum – but it could also be only Coca-Cola – in her hand. She's with some people with an incredibly snobbish look and she is wearing a macabre fox stole, complete with the head of the animal on a white jumper with sequins and a leather mini-skirt, with thick black tights and Dior cuissard boots with stiletto heels and Swarovski spurs.

I walk over.

"Oh, how nice to see you again," she says, smiling assuredly.

"Guys," she says to her friends, "This is a friend of mine..."

"Claudio," I say, shaking hands with everyone present.

"Claudio," she repeats. Then, whispering into my ear. "By the way, I'm Giada. Sit down. Take a stool."

I take one from another table and put it next to hers, I take my coat off and hang it up and I sit down.

"What are you doing this evening?" she asks in a friendly way.

"Do you mean apart from going to bed with you?" I reply.

"Apart from that." She's on the ball.

"No plans."

"Well in that case, you'll have to join us," says Giada. "We're going to Metropole."

"Wow!" I say, "I've heard they won't let you in unless you can show your family crest."

"That's a good one," says Giada.