Andean Express Read Online Free

mistaken, the guy’s an asshole.”
    â€œYou’re not mistaken. He’s the biggest asshole of them all.”
    â€œPetko said you should ask him for a rematch.”
    â€œI’ll challenge him,” said Ruiz. “If he lets me, I promise you that he’ll never forget this trip.”
    Ruiz asked for something to snack on. The train entered a tunnel, causing the water to disappear in the darkness. The waiter returned with a plate of peanuts and French fries. Ruiz was in a good mood. An insouciant smile lit up his face, which looked like that of a bird of prey. Ricardo couldn’t help but admire his simple happiness, unbounded by the inscrutable mysteries of life. The poker player was a born optimist, the kind whose enthusiasm is contagious.
    â€œHere comes that Alderete’s wife,” Ruiz said.
    Gulietta settled into a table in the middle of the car. She was alone and she began to contemplate the landscape. Off in the distance, Mount Illimani’s magnificence was on full display. Evanescent clouds adorned its snowy peaks. Ricardo thanked Ruiz for the beer and approached Gulietta.
    â€œMay I sit down?”
    â€œOf course. Did my husband say anything to you?”
    â€œHe didn’t have time,” Ricardo said. “Now I remember where we saw each other. In Buenos Aires, at my aunt Blanca Colorado’s house.”
    â€œIt’s possible,” Gulietta said. “I studied in Buenos Aires. I just graduated.”
    â€œMe too,” Ricardo said. “From the Instituto Americano.”
    â€œBlanca Colorado. Isn’t she the poet?”
    â€œExactly.”
    The irritated expression that Ricardo remembered from the corridor had vanished. Her face, though not beautiful, was attractive. Her eyes, which looked as if they had matured before her other features, gazed indolently at her surroundings with a bold sensuality. She summoned the waiter and asked for a cup of black coffee.
    â€œI imagine you already know that I’m married to Alderete.”
    â€œIt surprised me,” Ricardo said, trying not to sound imprudent.
    â€œSomeday I’ll explain it to you.”
    The waiter placed the coffee on the table and walked away.
    She took off her shoes, bending down without taking her eyes off Ricardo. He felt her foot brush against his ankle.
    â€œI’d like to ask you to give me a foot massage, but that would be too forward.”
    â€œIn the end,” Ricardo said, “we’re from the same generation and we play the same games.”
    Gulietta caressed the sides of the cup. Her long, fine fingers wrapped around it in a tactile ceremony.
    â€œI bet you’re dying to know how a woman like me married an old half-breed like Alderete.”
    â€œMaybe you’re in love.”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous. Love is blind, but even the blind have a sense of touch.”
    â€œThen tell me.”
    â€œYou might misunderstand. It’s a complicated story. Let’s talk about you. When my mom saw you, she told me she’s friendly with your parents. She also warned me that you would try to make a move on me.”
    Ricardo smiled. “What else did she tell you?”
    â€œThat you’re a goof-off. That you hang out with those boys from Saint George’s.”
    â€œThey’ve been my buddies since grade school.”
    â€œThey drink a lot.”
    â€œOnly beer.”
    â€œAt the Chic café on Rosendo Gutiérrez.”
    â€œHow do you know so much?”
    â€œLa Paz is a small town. Who are you going out with?”
    â€œI don’t have a steady girlfriend.”
    â€œHow strange. There are lots of pretty girls.”
    â€œMost of them are a little too old-fashioned.”
    â€œAnd you don’t like that?”
    â€œLet’s say that it makes me feel inhibited.”
    â€œAt the Instituto Americano they teach American Lit, I suppose.”
    â€œNo, that would have been great, but instead