Tempers and deceit…but not before some quaint scenes of México. Don Francisco Aguilar is out shopping for jitomates when he gets a call from the Sánchez matriarch. No entiendo…¿Carlos?…¿Qué? Somehow this twenty-second, four-word conversation convinces Francisco to make travel plans to visit Chile. And he somehow also gets across when he’ll arrive and that he needs to be picked up at the airport. Oh, and who picks him up? La antropóloga, of course. And why? Because as most of figured out last semester…she’s Carlos’ sister and Isabel’s daughter!
Now the interesting part starts. Jaime shows up at the Sánchez abode to negotiate the final sale of Sol y viento with doña Isabel Sánchez, but Carlos says she’s too sick…how about tomorrow? Hoy es mañana, Carlos. Well too bad, mom’s health is more important than business. But Carlos isn’t as aggressive as Jaime, and the US businessman wants this deal done. Unfortunately for Carlos, Isabel also must of overheard what was happening, and she asks Jaime in. Carlos is left kicking up dust in the drive like a frustrated schoolboy.
Isabel has bad news for Jaime: the vineyard is not for sale. No está a la venta. I don’t know what my crazy son told you, but this land is not changing hands. However, have you seen my daughter? All these pictures of her have been facing away from the couch the whole time we’ve been sitting here so that you couldn’t see them. I like to look at the back of picture frames while I nap in the afternoon. Anyway, she’s hot stuff, ¿no? And with that Jaime pieces together the truth about María. His face says it all: this has been one sorry excuse for a day. But it only gets worse.
Jaime has words with Carlos on the porch. Carlos never had his mother’s agreement, his sister will never go for the sale, and he did nothing about the Mapuches (when did Jaime and Carlos ever discuss the Mapuches?). You don’t have the influence needed to get this done, Carlos. But Carlos just keeps asking for a couple more days to sway his mother and sister.
Well, guess who overhears enough of this conversation to realize that her brother and her new boyfriend are in some kind of shady business deal with each other. “You’re right, Mr. Talavera,” says María. “I’d never approve the sale of these lands.” And here’s your crappy Mapuche charm back. I’m getting to the bottom of whatever you’ve done, dear brother. Ouch! But if this were a real telenovela, wouldn’t she have slapped one or both of them?