Giacomo and Priscilla are escorted out of the Mexico City airport by a driver to a 1970s black Lincoln.

Staring out of the window in the car, Giacomo is taken by the bright sun, the children on the street, the vendors they pass. The next half hour is silent, but neither Giacomo nor Priscilla feel the need to fill the air with talk. The car pulls up to the grassy lawn of a large estate and down a long driveway. A porter emerges from seemingly out of nowhere, opens their doors, and takes their bags into the big house. Giacomo takes in the scene in awe as if he’s surprised to be there. Giacomo and Priscilla are greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Valdez.

“Ciao!”

“Bienvenidos!”

“¡Hola!”

“Welcome to our home.”

“Oh, speaking English now?”

“Ramona doesn’t speak Italian.”

Felipe gestures to a woman in her thirties who appears from behind him. She smiles a wide smile. She’s dressed in a silk blouse and pleated pants.

“We’ll have to teach you some Spanish.”

“The museum is just there, as you can see. This property has quite a bit of land, so feel free to explore. Priscilla Bachmann, meet Ramona Navarro.”

“I recognized you from your picture,” Ramona says as she eyes Priscilla up and down.

Ramona kisses Priscilla’s cheeks in a greeting, and puts a hand on Priscilla’s shoulder, showcasing a small gold ring on her pinky finger.

“And this is Giacomo, of course,” Felipe adds.

“My right hand,” beams Priscilla.

He and Ramona kiss each other’s cheeks.

“I’ll let Ramona take over. Giacomo, I’ve got to introduce you to the staff. Come with me.”

Felipe, Giacomo, and Leonie head to the museum. Priscilla and Ramona linger before heading in behind them.

“My picture, huh?”

“I read the write-up on your show at MoMA. Not familiar with me, are you?”

“Regrettably, no.”

“I expected more of you. At least do your research before meeting someone.”

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? Save me the time?”

Ramona seems annoyed. “Head curator. Word is that they were deciding between your piece and that of another sculptor.”

She watches Priscilla’s reaction. “Don’t worry, they remained coy. They didn’t tell me who.”

Priscilla doesn’t react.

“I think you’re very talented,” Ramona continues.

Now, across the large lawn, the museum is in full view. Large glass doors give a suggestion as to what is inside. Ramona takes Priscilla into one of the exhibits where two young women are looking at a small frame which houses a piece of paper that reads in Spanish: Let me walk your cat 15/hour. They are being surveyed by a robust security attendant who is stationed in the corner looking on.

In Spanish, the young girl to the left of the artwork leans over to her friend and says, “You have to be really famous to make something like that.”

“What’s it called?” her friend asks.

The first girl reads the information painted on the wall.

“Untitled #34. That’s a lazy title.”

The girls move onto a larger piece of work that is a neon yellow light.

In Spanish, the security attendant warns them, “Not too close.”

The girls roll their eyes and move on from the piece, seemingly disinterested.

Ramona walks through the exhibit, smiling at the girls.

“Hola, Ramona,” says a security attendant.

Ramona does not say hello, but waves and nods. Her posture is impeccable as she makes her way with Priscilla through a dark video installation.

A young man is studying the name plate on a phallic sculpture. He nudges his friend.

“Check out the donor names. Remember those last names. Their daughters are rich.”

“That’s genius,” his friend agrees.

“It’s incredible. If you can get a date with one of these girls you won’t pay for anything. But sometimes they turn out to be real dogs.” Ramona looks at the men and mutters, “Glad I don’t deal with that sort,” under her breath.

“How do you mean?” asks Priscilla, confused.

Ramona moves on quickly. “Any exciting plans while you’re in town?”

“Well, this. I have a few friends here I’d like to see, but the turnaround with the flight and all was so quick that I haven’t had a chance to give them a ring yet.”

Ramona reaches into her pocket and grabs a pen and a business card.

“Well, listen. My friends and I frequent this little place, so come by if you’re looking for a drink tonight.” Ramona hands the slip of paper to Priscilla, once again flashing her pinky ring. “But for now, I’ve got to run. Enjoy the rest of the museum.”