I haven’t spent much time in the old port neighborhood, other than to take the occasional tour group through there. It spans the somewhat homely waterfront of the churning brown Rio de la Plata. It was once an actual port but never a terribly functional one, and it hasn’t been used as such since the 1920s, when the new port was completed.

“You know I don’t care for that place, Gem, it’s a tourist trap. It’s like being in Buenos Aires without being in Buenos Aires,” Edward says, tipping the last of the bottle of Malbec into Cali’s glass before immediately pulling another one from where he’s kept it at his feet.

“There’s a Hooters there,” Anders says.

“And a TGI Fridays,” I add.

“There is not!” Cali says, and we both nod. I cringe picturing the glaring neon lights of their signs refracted on the river. Seeing these sorts of American stains on beautiful foreign cities is so depressing.

“You’re all being snobs! There are plenty of gorgeous places in Puerto Madero. Some of the best galleries in the city are there, and I can never get any of you to go with me.” Gemma is pouting.

“Well, the galleries are closed right now, love,” Anders says, taking her hand indulgently.

“But these girls haven’t even been to the Faena yet!” she protests. “It’s one of the most beautiful expressions of Philippe Starck in the world.”

“Well, fine,” Edward says, as though he alone gets to decide. “We’ll go there for cocktails in the Library Lounge. I’m not in the mood for the precious food. Let’s get a steak somewhere before we go.”

“Speaking of precious,” Gemma says.

Edward gives her a look. There’s a strange vibe tonight that I can’t quite put my finger on. I feel a bit like we shouldn’t venture so far from our regular haunts tonight. Both Gemma and Edward seem like they’re on a mission: what that mission is, I’m unsure.

“Fine,” she continues. “Library Lounge is my favorite place there anyway.”

When we arrive at the Faena, I have to agree that it’s worth seeing. The whole place is dimly lit and vampiric, and the moment we walk through the doors and down the long, narrow hallway with its bloodred carpet, it feels as if we’re walking through the chambers of the city’s literal heart. Gemma is visibly cheered by our awe and holds court as we walk around, telling us all about the architecture and the collaboration between the two iconic designers: Alan Faena and Philippe Starck.