The restaurant had quieted down significantly since she disappeared with Akari less than forty minutes ago. It seemed many had the same idea as her friend, realizing that there was nothing left for them at the party. Their real lives were somewhere else.
The music had changed to actual dancing music now and people seemed more intoxicated judging by their animated gestures and the roaring laughter that had replaced the serious tones of intellect. Their guards were slowly coming down.
She spotted him instantly in a group by the corner and sighed with relief that he was still around. He noticed her and tried to wave her over, but she turned away to listen to a man on her left about how he felt regarding the price of import tax in the east.
The conversation had only been going on for five minutes before Rebekah smelled his approach. She felt a gentle touch on her arm.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Andrews, do you mind if I steal this young lady away? We have some important business matters to discuss,” he smiled, hand still firmly on her arm.
“Emile! Of course! I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of such important matters,” the man laughed heartily. “I need to hit the hay anyway. Tomorrow will be another packed day. Nice to meet you, Miss Edwards.” He shook both their hands enthusiastically and disappeared.
“Yes, Miss Edwards, so nice to meet you,” Emile said with a twinkle in his eye. Hand still on her arm, he steered her back to their spot at the window. “Wherever did you go? I thought you had left.”
“Would that have been a problem?”
“Definitely. I mean, I would have found you eventually. You gave me your business card earlier, but I was hoping you’d come back.”
“I had to run away temporarily,” she smiled, trying not to drown in the sea of his compassionate-green eyes.
“You should run away with me instead.”
If only, she daydreamed.
“Are you always this persistent, Mr. Martín?” Rebekah laughed, aware that her flirting skills were getting sloppy.
“Only when I know what I want.”
He wrapped one arm casually around her waist, the touch sending a momentary shock through her whole body.
“I’m going to get a drink,” she pulled away quickly nearly in a panic. Clearly, she wasn’t as good at keeping her cool as she had thought.
He didn’t protest and let his arm drop as she left hurriedly.
She grabbed a glass of wine as intended and scoped the room for a distraction; anything but him. She ended up speaking to a magazine editor from South Africa about the local HVAC & R industry for a while, but her mind was continually reminding her of the tall man with the electrifying touch. The conversation was an elevator speech, superficial, and she decided not contribute much.
Eventually, when she couldn’t think of any more responses, she excused herself and returned to the window again, staring out over the city, reluctantly drawn the she was familiar with window. The man wasn’t there anymore but she wasn’t surprised. People were instantly drawn to Emile and he was never alone for long before someone dragged him into a conversation he would navigate with ease, regardless of the topic.
“I know of an even better view for you,” Emile whispered and handed her another glass from behind. She put the glass down on the counter; she’d already had enough.
Not turning around. She had expected him to find her. “Yeah?”
He was standing closely pressed up against her now, his body only barely touching hers as he stared over her shoulder out towards the view.
She couldn’t breathe. His presence was overwhelming.
“I would highly recommend the twenty-first floor. You can even see the lit up carousel from there.”
“What’s on the twenty-first floor?”
"Come to room 2104 later and I'll show you," he grinned.
“You never give up, do you?” Rebekah felt anxious, aloof. This emotional rollercoaster was getting the best of her. She didn’t know if she should push Emile away, or succumb.
Emile didn’t answer. He simply kissed her lightly on the cheek, an arm wrapping around her waist only momentarily before he moved away casually to speak to an old friend. To anyone else, it would have looked like a “farewell,” perhaps a “goodnight,” but Rebekah saw the passion and intent through the storm in his eyes. It mirrored the churning in her stomach and the fire burning over her skin.
Her body became aware of the missing touch. She could smell his cologne lingering in the air around her, slowly dissipating into the night.
Rebekah picked up the glass of wine she had put down moments earlier and gulped it all down, weighing her options before leaving. Maybe she hadn’t had enough to drink after all.
Emile was debating the viability of gray water harvesting in rural Tanzania at that point with another guest. She went back to the seventh floor without allowing him another glance upon her exit. This distance would be only temporarily, though.