“Ah, yes,” Jillian said. I could feel her smugly smiling as I walked away. “Go serve your community, Richard.”
Chapter 7
Richard
It was immediately apparent as Gloria entered the grand room that she didn't want to be here at all. That only piqued my interest more.
Where Judy wore an elegant white dress and gold jewelry, Gloria was the opposite end of the spectrum. She wore a black dress suit and shiny metal ear studs. The only exception in her outfit was a pair of bright red low heeled shoes that laced up the front.
You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.
From her forced smile and body positioning behind her business partner—using her as a conversational shield—I could tell right away that Gloria wasn't shy or timid. This was a woman who had little patience for disingenuous niceties. Her little details were subtle, but telling, if you knew how to look.
I knew how to look.
Judy greeted me first; she was all smiles and saccharin. I braced myself for another tidal wave of words and general excitement as Judy delivered in spades.
“Mr. King, may I call you Richard? Thank you so much for your kind invitation! We're both extremely pleased to be here. We never got the pleasure of meeting your mother, but she sounds like such a wonderful woman. If you ever have any events that you'd like catered we offer a coffee bar service. Oh and that selfie we took got over five hundred likes on our Facebook page!”
I breathed in, smiling in exhaustion, and thanked them both for coming. I smoothly grabbed the arm of a passing food journalist and introduced—sacrificed—the man to Judy.
Stepping to the side of them as Judy began to talk to the journalist felt like suddenly being in a word vacuum.
That left Gloria and I relatively alone in a room full of people.
“Can I get you a drink?” I turned to Gloria. “It's only fair after that coffee you made me.”
Gloria glanced back at Judy, who was laughing loudly in a small group of people. If they carpooled here she wasn't leaving anytime soon. She turned back to me with a renewed fake smile. “Sure.”
“You can drop the act and be miserable if you like. I won't tell Judy, I promise.” I said, walking toward the loneliest section of the room-wide bar I could find.
“What?” Gloria's fake smile cracked in surprise as I left her.
I briskly cut through small groups and politely pardoned myself before they could start up a conversation with me. I ducked under the bar, greeted the bartenders and got to work making the most elaborate drink I knew.
The sparkling chandelier light wouldn't cut it so I asked one of the bartenders to use the flashlight on his phone as I fished out ingredients under the bar. The mood lighting was nice, it made the hall more intimate, but I could tell it was difficult on the staff.
How could they work like this?
I took off my jacket, unbuttoned my cuffs and rolled up my sleeves. Now that I owned the place I was going to introduce a few changes.
“I'm not miserable,” Gloria said, placing her small purse opposite me on the bar. There was a look of confusion and interest on her face. “Judy and I are both glad to be invited. There are a lot of people here that we wouldn't have been able to meet otherwise.”
“Judy asked you to be on your best behavior, didn't she?” I began slicing papaya and devil's claw. I told the bartender what I was up to and he assisted with the smaller fruits, gathering them from the kitchen and measuring them for blending.
“Mr. King—”
“Richard,” I corrected, glancing up and momentarily getting lost in those stormy irises of hers. She really did have the most beautiful eyes...
“Richard, you don't know us well enough to make assumptions like that.”
“But I'd like to.” I stole another glance, this time with a half smile. “So much has changed since the last time I was here. I'd like to get reacquainted with my home town. Would you be willing to show me around?”
“Absolutely not!” Gloria scoffed at the thought, then softened a little. “I'm sorry. I'm just too busy planning the record release party.” She brushed a spiky black lock of hair from her sharp eyes. “Besides I'm a terrible tour guide.”
She seemed to have a habit of speaking her mind without a filter. There was a refreshing honesty to that, which I respected.
Gloria and I talked for a while as I wrapped up preparing the rest of the ingredients. I sent the various components off with the bartender to be blended, then washed and dried my hands.
“I've never seen a fruit salad with over fifty ingredients. I thought you were making drinks?” She said, trying to fill the void.
“I am.” I smiled. The drink was called Commonwealth, and it had seventy-one ingredients. “Like most things in life, it takes time and care to properly appreciate the simple beauty of complex things.”
Gloria breathed in sharply as I met her eyes. She knew I wasn't talking about the drink.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“We were invited,” Gloria replied, getting a little defensive.
“You know that's not what I mean. I understand Judy—loud, fun, friendly. You, though...” I let the sentence linger while I mixed the juices and added the different alcohols.
“I'm only here to support the Rocket.” She pursed her lips tightly. “That's it.”
I strained the drink, filled her glass and then decorated it with several mini flags and fruit slices. I slid the elaborate drink toward her from across the bar.
“How do I even…” She raised an eyebrow at the glass which was more of a piece of art than a mixed drink. I dropped a black straw in. “Ah, OK.”
Gloria took a sip.
“Well?” I asked. I was proud of myself for pulling the Commonwealth off. The proportions were difficult to get right and it took forever to make. I'd only made it a few times and when I did it always impressed the woman I gave it to.
“Too sweet.” Gloria said, after only the one sip, then slid it back to me. “Thanks, though.”
“Really?” I deflated slightly. I tried it. It tasted fine.
I felt off slightly, like a machine that had stuttered through a gear set and hadn't properly synced back up yet.
“Yeah, sorry.” Gloria leaned in and flipped over a clean rocks glass from the row that lined the inside lip of the bar, then reached for one of the bottles of whiskey I used. Stopping herself just before grabbing it, she asked, “May I?”
“By all means.” I casually sipped at the monstrous mixed drink I made. I guess it was a bit sweet.
Gloria poured herself a shot, then downed it.
“What is it that you don't like about me?” I asked, curiously. It was a feeling I was unfamiliar with. This whole exchange was strange and interesting. Gloria definitely wasn't like the other women I met tonight. She certainly kept me on my toes.
I found that extremely attractive.
“I don't dislike you, Richard. We just don't operate on the same level. I'm sure you're probably a great guy to have tea with in Milan and—” Gloria flicked her eyes down my physique, trying to hide the swell of excitement in her gray eyes. “a talented polo player.”