(36)

                                    

                                          
Delgado's looked different when it was dark. Small round lights in the ceiling created a soft ambience.  The sound of instrumental background music competed with the thrum of voices. 
                          
It was a great turn out. People were admiring the art or nibbling from the buffet of appetisers. 
                          
Bottles of beer, flutes of champagne or glasses of wine were being served from behind the pop up bar. 
                          
The paintings were being sold at a sale price. There was an almost sixty percent discount for whatever was taken home tonight. 
                          
Which seemed to be a great incentive because the art was being admired and discussed by almost everyone in the room. 
                          
The pieces were exquisite. They really captured the beauty of their locations. You could almost feel the culture coming off the canvas. 
                          
"Max, Hola!" 
                          
Amalia and I turned from the painting of The Alhambra and met Elias' enthusiastic smile. 
                          
He outstretched his arms and kissed Amalia on either cheek before he shook my hand. 
                          
His outfit would have been impossible to miss. His pale blue blazer and pants were decorated in a white floral pattern. The shirt underneath was a soft pink as were his Doc Martins. He wore it with confidence. 
                          
"Thank you for coming," he said. He seemed to thrilled to see us both. 
                          
"Thank you for having me," I said and gestured at the room. "It's a great turn out."
                          
"Sí," he smiled. "It must have been with help from that Cramer. You're company provided fantastic advertisement."
                          
"Glad that we could help, sir," I said even though I was an assistant and nothing more. 
                          
Amalia stepped  forward and patted her father's chest. "You look handsome, Papá."
                          
"Gracias," he said.  "Bernie helped me choose it. She was quite unhappy that she couldn't join us but, ah well. She'll have a nice evening at her friend's house. Oh," he looked over at a middle aged couple that were wandering towards us. "I have to talk to the Ryan's. Excuse me."
                          
He skipped off with a spring in his step and when I peered down at Amalia, she was watching him with an adoring smile. 
                          
Her features were so captivating. Soft but sharp. Alluring but daring. She had the smile of an angel. 
                          
"He's happy, huh?"
                          
Amalia turned her attention to me and the smile grew as did the blush on her cheeks and chest. "I haven't seen him this happy in a long time." 
                          
"And you?" I asked. "Are you happy?"
                          
Her gaze grew for a moment and she ducked her head. We started to circle the room and while the art was meant to be the focus, I was intently drawn to this girl instead. 
                          
"I don't know if I've been asked that before," she admitted and swept her hands through her hair. "But I am. I'm really happy. I love working in the parlour. Dad and I are closer than ever. Bernie is a handful but she loves school and that's always a relief. I mean, for now, she loves school for now. She's getting super into fashion and that's one of those careers that's all or nothing. But she has talent. Things are good." 
                          
I smiled at her answer. It was nice to get more than just a yes, no or a shrug. It was beautiful that she could list the things that made her happy without having to think it over. 
                          
"Can I ask you a question?"
                          
"Of course," she said as we weaved through a group of women that I'm almost certain were discussing Elias rather than the vase which they surrounded.