Sad Machine
Marco was worried. He had only meant to be gone for a few minutes when his parents had summoned him over to meet the company’s newest solicitor. But the minutes had stretched to half an hour, and he began to feel bad that he had left Cleo all alone at the bar. He fidgeted as the man, Arthur Hastings, droned on about the latest settlement he had managed to close on Eduardo and Elizabeth’s behalf. As tall as Marco was, he was still too far away to see whether or not Cleo was still waiting for him on the other side of the hall. What an idiot he was, leaving his date all alone because he had panicked and hadn’t thought to introduce Cleo right away to his parents. I’ll be right back, he had told her. Yeah, right. The sudden feeling of someone’s hand clasping his shoulder made him jump.
“Everything alright, Marco?” His father’s deep voice was devoid of concern. Eduardo had noticed he wasn’t paying attention to Arthur’s story.
“Yes, sir.” Marco fixed his eyes on the solicitor once more. Arthur Hastings was a large, broad-shouldered man with a booming voice that caused heads to turn. He clung to to his drink with one meaty hand, his fingers as red and as large as sausages. The beads of sweat on his forehead gleamed under the sparkling chandelier lights. He certainly wasn’t a pretty sight, but Marco decided that he had to be good at what he did if his parents had hired him on. Mediocrity wasn’t a word that existed in Eduardo and Elizabeth’s dictionary.
“Remember, young man,” Arthur prodded Marco’s chest with his glass. “People will settle on anything if the price is right.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Mr. Hastings,” Marco replied politely, watching the heavy man guzzle down his expensive drink. “You should meet my sister. I’m sure she’d appreciate your counsel as much as I do.”
“Arthur is a very busy man, Marco,” Eduardo interjected immediately. “He doesn’t have time to meet Ruth. He’s not even staying for the whole party.”
“Have you seen Ruthie?” Elizabeth’s dark eyes were on him. It startled him how much Ruth and her looked alike. “I had hoped to see her before the guests started arriving, but...” But his mother hadn’t had time to inspect Ruth’s outfit beforehand. He knew his parents all too well.
“I’m sure she’s around. I could find her if you’d like.”
Elizabeth bowed her head in thanks. Marco excused himself from the group and tried not to rush back to the bar. He scanned the row of heads for a sign of his curly-haired date, but he could not catch a glimpse of the girl who set his heart beating so wildly lately.
“Another old-fashioned for you, sir?” André’s cheery face greeted him on the other side of the bar.
“Not right now, André. I was actually looking for the young woman I was with earlier. Big, curly hair, gold dress?”
The bartender’s lips curled into a smile. “Elle est mignonne ton amoureuse.”
Marco frowned. Stupid French men. “Tu l’as vu ou non?”
“Elle est sortie dehors plus tôt avec un beau, grand mec. Il te ressemble un peu, je trouve.”
“Il était mexicain par hasard?”
“Tu le connais?”
Marco sighed and leaned against the bar with his forearms.
“Malheureusement.”
“Alors… how about that old-fashioned?”
“Only if you make it right this time.”
@wherescleo
