Page 16 of Girls Night
Chapter Three
Somewhere above me, Mateo is slowly rotting while I speak to El Alcalde’s son. He’s told me that his name is Pablo Morales and that he’s “enchanted” to finally meet Papa’s daughters.
But if that were true, then Tati would be in this little semi-circle conversation as well, closing the gap instead of leaving open an empty spot.
Where the fuck is Tati?
The thought sinks into my mind now more than ever as I scan the crowd again, and she’s nowhere to be found. I only hope that wherever she is, she’s staying out of fucking trouble.
Embarrassing Papa is a no go, and if I can’t see her, I can’t get her out of any fucking mess she may be getting into.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Pablo,” I tell him distractedly as I turn to walk away. He claps a hand around my forearm, and I look back at him, arching an eyebrow. I don’t like it when people touch me unless it’s invited, but the sharp look I’m giving him doesn’t seem to deter his intentions any.
“Leaving already? I’ve only told you my name so far,” he says with a chuckle.
“Oh.”
I blanch at coming to the realization that standing here with him seemed like hours instead of mere minutes.
I clear my throat and force a smile onto my face as I reach for another glass that floats by on a silver tray. I decide to give Pablo my undivided attention after he lets go of my arm because it seems like the personable thing to do.
Allowing my eyes to come into focus, I arch an eyebrow without meaning to. Pablo is actually a very good-looking young man. I gather that he’s somewhere in his late twenties, near thirties. His light brown hair is kept shorn closely, and the small gold chain around his neck that drops into a cross just in the middle of his chest sets off the color of his skin.
His eyes, like most of the guests here, are brown but not too dark. They look like small pools of chocolate ready to be made into solid candy bars. While his face is cleanly shaven, I can see the shadow of hair that’s creeping slowly to the surface. His body is lean, and I’m sure pleasant to behold, but the cockiness he holds himself with is the only thing that speaks to me.
Just once, I’d like to meet someone with blue eyes; it must be so different and beautiful to see,I think wistfully as I take a step away from him.
“I’m sorry, please continue,” I say as brightly as I can. But the force of faking happiness that I’m using right now is starting to make my cheeks hurt, and I’m becoming a little worried that he’ll notice.
I fold an arm across myself as I take another sip of my champagne while he begins to drone on about the privileges he has being the son of the mayor, all of the things he’s been able to do alongside his father to help the community, and how seeing the smiling faces of the citizens of Navolato is payment enough for his time.
My thoughts drift off as he continues to talk. I know it’s bad manners to not listen to him, but I can’t help it. He loves himself too much to be taken seriously, although I seem to be the only woman here, old and young, not salivating for his attention.
A quick glance around the room before I turn my attention back to him again for the next minute or so, and I can see that I’m the envy of every female here.
“Sofi?” he asks again, the smile on his lips faltering slightly.
“Hm?”
“I asked if you wanted to dance with me.”
I look down at his outstretched hand, wondering how long he’s been standing like this, feeling every bit of the fool I take him for.
I smile genuinely this time as I shake my head, “I lost a friend today, Pablo. I don’t think dancing would be the best way to honor him.”
He’s no longer smiling; if anything, the tight line on his lips tells me that he’s fighting the anger that seems to be building inside of him. I don’t think Pablo is used to rejection, but we all have to learn lessons at some point in our lives, and this is simply his turn.
“Enjoy the rest of your night,” I say over my shoulder as I turn to walk away. I don’t know what else he wants me to tell him, but I’m done trying to entertain his ego for the evening.
He scoffs in an attempt to seem still in control of the situation, and I give him a shrug before I make my way quickly through the crowd.
* * *
It’s been half an hour, and still no sign of Tati. It’s becoming painfully obvious to me at this point that she’s taken off and left me to be the good daughter tonight. While it’s true that we usually take turns, Papa wanted us both to remain present here and made us promise that we wouldn’t leave without letting him know first.
“Sofi!”
I stop walking the moment I hear Papa’s voice and turn to face him. He’s walking toward me with a glass in his hand, a smile on his face, and discontent in his eyes. I immediately begin to wrack my brain, trying to think of anything I could have done to displease him lately, but when he reaches me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, the thoughts drift away.
