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I slow my actions at the top of the stairs, but even so, I move quickly. It’s alright to be nervous, I try to convince myself. It’s a date, after all. Surely, he’s at least curious, if not excited himself.
No.
No, he is not nervous.
Why on earth would he be?
He looks like an action hero from the movies, posing as a Roman statue. His longish dark hair is swooped back expertly, like it should fall and he should have to push it off his face, but it knows not to do so. Mark’s classic black tux molds around his tall muscular frame like it was painted on, but it’s somehow not too tight, either.
His blue eyes follow me down the stairs and I can’t stop my wide smile. When I reach him at the foot of the staircase, he smiles wide in return.
“Stunning.” He offers me his arm.
“Thank you,” I look up at him from under my lashes, “You look very handsome yourself.”
“Look, Eleanna, the senator has brought you roses! And dark red, your favorite color!”
I sigh, embarrassed. “That’s just the color of roses, Mamá.”
Mark grins and tilts his head slightly, “Shall we?” I take his arm and nod.
Papá stands by the front door, watching us. “Bueno.Raul and Christo will follow behind. See you after,princesa,” He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and my fiancé leads me to one of his SUVs.
We start to pull away from the house and after giving me a polite smile, Mark apologizes about some work emails and gets drawn into his phone. The silence of the car is a bit stifling, but there is no partition in this vehicle like almost all of Papá’s cars, so it seems like the driver iswithus.
I clear my throat obviously so Mark will look at me. He does. I barely jut my chin at the driver.
“Ah, right, Ric this is Eleanna, Eleanna, my driver Ric.”
“Hi,” I say with a smile. “Ricardo?”
“Sí señora.” Yes, ma’am.His accent is thick.
“¿De dónde eres?”Where are you from?I ask him, using my nervous energy on conversation.
“Un pequeño pueblo a las afueras de Corpus Christi.” A tiny town outside of Corpus Christi.
I nod.“¿Y cómo conseguiste este trabajo?” And how did you get this job?
“I’m sure he applied online.” Mark answers me for him with his signature smirk.
I stare at Mark and continue talking, just to make sure he knows I know he can understand. It’s not like I was trying to leave him out. Would he care if I was? Is he irritated? I continue, “¿Y cómo es trabajar para el señor pez gordo?” And what’s it like working for Mr. Big Shot?
Ricardo laughs as he gives his boss a glance in the rear-view mirror.“Oh, es un sueño hecho realidad, por supuesto.” Oh, it’s a dream come true, of course.
“Por supuesto.” Of course.I agree.
“Tal vez deberíamos usar los conductores de un padre para la próxima ocurrencia.” Maybe we should use a father's drivers yours next occurrence.Mark chimes in with his clunky Spanish and then continues in English. “It’d give Ric some time off.”
“No, Boss!” Ricardo almost yells. “I love my job. Love it.”
He must be paid hourly, so I assure him. “I won’t let him do that, Ricardo, don’t worry.”
We continue the rest of the drive in a weird silence, but it’s lighter than before.
At the gala itself, a worthwhile event for teachers, it turns out, Mark is in his element. He’s magnetic and magnificent. He introduces me to a million people, but I find it hard to look away from him as he does.
My future fiancé remembers everyone’s names, their spouses. He asks about their children and pets. I realize that this is part of his job as a politician, the networking, but it’s so effortless. I will have to step up my small talk game if I want to keep pace with him.
