“You’re still talking nonsense.”
“You won’t convince her, Sylvia,” said Orson. “I told her something similar because the night of the gala there were sparks flying between them, they nearly burst into flames, but our dear Devon doesn’t want to admit it.”
“If you keep talking about him, I’m going to get up and leave,” I threatened.
“I told you,” Orson pointed out, looking at our friend.
“I see,” was her only comment.
“Give me that drink,” I said, stretching out my arm to take the glass Orson had brought.
After that tense moment, we danced all night and I didn’t see Cavaller again, nor did my friends mention him, although I couldn’t get him out of my head, especially because I imagined him spending the night with the woman who was accompanying him, and that caused me a discomfort I couldn’t control. Nevertheless, I made an effort for my friends because we saw each other rarely and I didn’t want to ruin our get-together. The night was fun, but to erase him from my mind, I drank more than I was used to, ending up with significant dizziness.
“I don’t think I can drive, I drank too much,” I said.
“I’m the same,” said Orson.
“Let’s leave the cars in the parking lot and take a taxi because I can’t drive either. We’ll come back for them tomorrow, this parking lot is secure. Next time we should come without cars,” Sylvia pointed out.
“I agree,” said Orson, and I nodded.
Making a great effort, we went down the stairs, though we couldn’t stop laughing. When we got out to the street, the air cleared my head a bit, although I still couldn’t control my laughter. The door of a car parked a few meters from us opened, and the cause of all my troubles got out.
“Uh-oh, here comesMr. Congeniality,” I said, without stopping laughing.
“And he sure looks congenial,” said Sylvia, and we both burst out laughing, because Cavaller’s seriousness was deadly.
“What’s he doing? Is he coming over here?” asked Orson, without a hint of humor.
“It seems like it,” said Sylvia.
“That man doesn’t value his life,” I said, and at that moment I stumbled and had to grab Sylvia’s arm.
Cavaller came up to us and looked at me seriously.
“Are you drunk?” he asked incredulously.
“It’s none of your business,” said Orson, answering for me.
“I’m not talking to you,” Cavaller countered.
“Mr. Cavaller, as my dear friend Orson rightly told you, my condition is none of your business. You’d better go back to your car and...”
“Get in my car and I’ll take you to your building.”
I looked at Sylvia and Orson who were looking at me, not knowing what to do.
“Am I being clear or is my drinking making it hard to understand what I’m saying?” I said ironically.
“I understand you perfectly clearly,” said Orson, but Sylvia was looking at us and seemed to have gone mute.
“Devon, don’t make me lose my patience and get in my car. You can’t drive in that state.”
“Enough! I’m going to hail a taxi and…” I started walking and, between my drunkenness and high heels, I had a mishap and stumbled again, but this time my body headed inevitably toward the arms of the last man I would choose to collide with.
“What the hell!” he exclaimed, and in a second he lifted me up and began walking with me in his arms.
“Put me down!” I shouted.