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I’m not ready to ask; this moment is too lovely as it is.
“Shall we go for a little stroll?”
“I’d love that,” she replies, looking me straight in the eyes, and now I realize that her eyes aren’t brown at all.
“They’re dark blue.”
“Huh?”
“Your eyes. They are like the midnight sky.”
Her cheeks flush. “Most people just think they’re dark brown.”
“But they aren’t. They are a painting hidden in shadows awaiting the morning sun.”
She swallows. “Nobody’s ever described it quite like that before.”
We fall silent, silently gazing into each other’s eyes.
This silence is different. This silence is charged.
I stand from the chair and reach out my hand to help her up. “Shall we stroll?”
“But we have to pay…” She grins. “Unless you already slipped it into the waiter’s pocket?”
Oh, yes. That. “No, I didn’t go anywhere near his pocket.”
“I’m strangely relieved.”
And I’m delighted by the smile in her eyes. “Marcial will take care of the bill. Let’s walk.”
The old town is full of little surprises, plaques and taverns and statues that once were the glory of the period.
“I’ve never seen anything so old,” she says looking back at me.
“I hope you’re referring to the surroundings and not the company.”
She laughs. “Who knew the stuffy boss had such a sense of humor?”
Stuffy boss? Is that what she thinks of me?
She claps her hand over her mouth. “That rolled off my tongue a little too easily, sorry.”
“I’ve been called worse than stuffy.”
Though I rather prefer the other insults over stuffy. In my mind, I am the least stuffy person I know. But this work, this family duty, this commitment can feel like a noose. No wonder they think I’m stuffy. I myself feel like I am suffocating.
“Hey,” she says, putting her hand on my arm and electrical currents run through me. “Are you okay? It’s like storm clouds just rolled over your face. Is it what I said?”
“No. Well, yes. But it’s no bother.”
Time to change the subject. I don’t speak to anyone about the weight I feel on my heart. I accepted this duty and I shall see it through. Instead, I can ask the question that’s been on my mind.
“Why are you here, Natalie?”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Because I smashed into a tower of expensive crystal like a bucking bronco, and I owe you more money than I’ve ever earned in my life.”
“Ah.” I did not see that coming. “In your life?” The crystal is expensive, but I would have thought a smart and confident girl like her…
