Chapter 8

Arguing with Lars is useless. He just ignores you and focuses on things “that really matter” like his business. I told him that same morning that I had no intentions of leaving for Madrid; that I was going back to Salamanca; that I had several (well, two) delayed orders and that he could…

“Shut up.” 

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that was his contribution to the world of dialectics and he did it right in front of his people. They paled but had the grace of saying nothing or show any interest in our “chat”. 

But enough is enough. I stood there, silently, waiting for the others to go away which at some point they did. Lars kept on reading his things over the leftovers from breakfast. 

“I have things to do at home and our agreement was good for Cáceres. I want to call it off.” 

“Our agreement is valid till Sunday.” 

“Would you sue me? We don’t get along at all. I can’t stand the sight of you and now you want to go to Madrid? With me? I’d rather sell pot with Abdullah for the rest of my life than being the bitch you want me to be.” 

I knew the second Lars smashed his fist against the table that I had screwed it up big time. I don’t know what triggered his fury, but I learned right there that it wasn’t a good idea to say “Abdullah” in front of him.