Chapter 7 #8
“Of that you can have no doubt,” he replied, laughing.
I got home around one in the morning. I was happy to have spent that time with Baco; besides, it had distracted me and that helped me take my mind off Hermes.
I went to bed, and I don’t know if it was because of the accumulated fatigue or because I was calmer, but that night I was able to sleep better.
The next morning I woke up more rested and in a better mood, but when I was having breakfast, I remembered the dinner that night and that made me uneasy.
As soon as I arrived at the office, I asked Julia to find out who would be the guests at my table.
If Hermes was assigned to the same table, I was determined to request a change.
I couldn’t bear the torture of having him next to me and pretending we had never been anything, when in reality I loved that man more than I wanted to admit.
Julia, with her usual efficiency and discretion, was able to find out the table number I had been assigned and the names of the people who would be at it. In this case, luck was on my side, and Hermes Darwich was not one of those people.
The dinner was set for nine o’clock, so that day I left the office at seven to stop by the hair salon. I wore my hair down with some waves and asked for elegant and natural makeup.
When I got home, I was surprised to see a huge package leaning against the door that appeared to be a wrapped painting.
The package had a card that simply said: “For Delfina.” Baco immediately came to mind, and I thought he had finished the painting he was working on and, since we had been talking about it, he had left it for me to see.
I went inside and the first thing I did was tear off the wrapping, but to my great surprise, it was the painting I had been admiring at the exhibition, the one that had caused such a strong emotional reaction in me.
I was convinced it had been Baco who, noticing how much I had liked it, had bought it, the crazy guy.
He was the only one who knew what it had made me feel.
I immediately picked up the phone to call him.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Thank you so much, Baco. You didn’t have to do it,” I said, a bit emotional about the gesture. In the end, I would have to agree with him that I was more sensitive these days.
“And why exactly are you thanking me?” he asked, confused.
“You know why, don't play innocent. It was a beautiful gift.”
“Delfi, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. Please enlighten me.”
“About the painting that was delivered to my home, the one I was admiring at the exhibition.”
“I repeat, I don't know what you're talking about. Someone gave you the painting that moved you?” he asked, and from the surprise in his voice, I began to doubt it was him.
“Don't joke with me, tell me the truth. Did you send me that painting or not?” I asked, concerned.
“I swear I didn't,” he affirmed, and at that moment I knew it wasn't him, but I had no idea who could have given me such an incredible gift.
“And if it wasn't you, who was it? The card only says 'For Delfina.'”
“I have no idea,” he said, and there was a silence during which I assumed he was thinking, then he added: “The only people you mentioned how much you liked it to were me and the artist himself, Pierce, who was quite taken with you, I might add. Maybe it was him, but how would he know your address?”
“I have no idea, but what I do know is that if it wasn't you, I can't accept it.”
“And how do you plan to return it if you don't know who gave it to you?”
“Can you find out from your friend who bought the painting? This is very strange.”
“You must have a secret admirer. Don't think I didn't notice how they were looking at you the other day; you accelerated quite a few heartbeats. Perhaps someone who was watching you noticed you crying while looking at the painting and decided to send it to you.”
“That sounds like a stalker.”
“Actually, it sounds like love at first sight,” he said, laughing.
“Don't make fun of me and please find out that information so I can return it. The painting is wonderful, but I'm not keeping it.”
“Why not?”
“For starters, I have no idea who sent it, and furthermore, it could be someone who wants something in return. We don't know anything about this person. It's disturbing enough that they know where I live.”
“You're right about that. I'll try to find out, but I'm afraid they might not give me that information.”
“Please try,” I pleaded.
“Are you going to the dinner tonight?” he asked.
“I don't have much choice, but I'm not enthusiastic about it at all.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Baco.”
“Behave yourself and watch out for the stalker,” he said, bursting into laughter.
I just ended the call, but I smiled just hearing him laugh; his laughter was contagious.
Why couldn't his brother have some of his good humor? I wondered, but shook my head, I couldn't connect everything to him, or I'd never forget him.
◆◆◆
That night I wore a long, flowing gold dress with thin straps. The neckline was plunging both in front and back, and it hugged my waist and hips, making me look very sensual.
I arrived at the dinner punctually. I was very nervous, knowing I would run into him because he himself had mentioned he couldn't miss it, but I had no idea how he would treat me.
He would probably ignore me completely, which was very like him, and I preferred that to having to talk to him pretending we didn't know each other.
They indicated which was my table and I headed there without looking much around me because I didn't want to meet his eyes.
The table was for ten people, and several colleagues I knew from business with the company were already there, including one of the guys who had been my classmate at the University, named Mino.
We were four women and six men. Seeing that they weren't strangers made me feel more at ease, so I greeted everyone, sat down, and joined their conversation.
I estimated there were close to two hundred people in the hall; if I stayed at the table, I probably wouldn't run into him.
The dinner began with the customary speeches and acknowledgments, followed by a toast that included Christmas greetings and wishes for a prosperous new year filled with good business.
While the waiters began circulating among the tables serving the menu items, I must have greeted more than twenty acquaintances who approached the table to chat.
I was well aware that these events were opportunities to talk with colleagues, make connections with other businesspeople, and socialize a bit.
When the main course was served, everyone returned to their seats, and we continued our conversation among those sharing the table.
My group was fun, and beyond discussing topics like economics, politics, taxes, and several other business-related subjects, we also talked about travel and good places to visit, music concerts, and even our families.
After dinner, the music began playing louder, and we were invited to go to the dance floor.
I was clear that I had no intention of moving from my chair.
Many of the guests invaded the dance floor, and at my table, they began to deliberate whether we should all go dance together or stay and chat.
Of course, I was the only one who voted to stay, and just as Mino was tugging at me to join them on the dance floor, his harsh tone of voice paralyzed me.
“Good evening, everyone,” he greeted.
“Good evening, Darwich,” replied one of the men seated at my table, whom I knew owned an automotive company.
It was obvious they knew each other quite well because he approached to shake his hand. The rest of us simply responded with “good evening,” and I did so without turning around to avoid looking at him.
“Come on, Delfina, join me,” Mino insisted, and at that moment it didn’t seem like such a bad idea because I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, so I stood up with a smile.
“You win, I’ll join you,” I said.
As I turned and met his penetrating gaze, my stomach flipped.
We stood challenging each other with our eyes for a few seconds, but when I noticed Samantha, the woman who had accompanied him to his mother’s birthday, hanging on his arm, I felt a stab in my chest and a sharp pain that cut off my breath.
I had to make a great effort to hide the disappointment and anguish that seeing him with that woman caused me.
“Hermi, look who’s here, your little brother’s girlfriend,” Samantha said, looking at me with surprise.
I looked at her and smiled.
“She’s mistaken, ma’am,” I said, and looked at Mino to tell him, “shall we go have some fun?”
Mino took my hand and dragged me to the dance floor where we began to dance among all the people moving to the rhythm of the music.
I didn’t look back at them because I turned my back to them, mainly because I had to make a great effort not to burst into tears.
I couldn’t believe he had done that. If he wanted to date other women, fine, but bringing her to this place where he knew I would be and approaching my table to rub her in my face was really low.
He had disappointed me. If at some point I had thought that Hermes Darwich was misunderstood and that, contrary to what everyone thought, I believed he had a big heart, that night he had shattered any good image I had of him.
Hermes Darwich was cold and ruthless. He knew I loved him and he had shown no compassion.
“Delfina, are you alright?” Mino asked, leaning close to my ear to speak because otherwise it would have been impossible to hear him.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“You look very pale,” he insisted.
“It’s just very hot in here and the air is a bit stuffy, don’t you think?” I said, trying to hide how distressed I was.
“I agree. Would you like to go outside for some fresh air? This hotel has spectacular gardens and I’m sure there must be benches where we can sit for a while.”
“Don’t you mind stopping dancing?” I asked, because it had been obvious that he was very eager to dance.
“I much prefer the idea of talking with you,” he stated, looking at me seriously, and that put my senses on alert, as the last thing I wanted was to give him the impression I was flirting with him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll just go sit at the table for a while and have something cool to drink. You stay and dance, there’s no reason for you to stop having fun.”
Mino looked at me and smiled.
“I don’t feel like dancing alone. I’ll join you.”
We started walking toward the table, and I was grateful that Hermes was no longer there, but as I was approaching, I bumped into a hard chest that blocked my path. I looked up and found his wonderful green eyes staring at me intently.
“Excuse me,” was all I could say, and I tried to go around him to keep walking, but his hand gripped my arm, preventing me from doing so.
“I don’t excuse you,” he stated.
I looked at him with a mixture of fury and anguish and pulled my arm to free myself from his grip.
“That’s your problem,” I said, and continued walking.
When I reached the table, I tried to calm myself down, but I realized my whole body was trembling and I felt a tightness in my chest. The night was becoming more difficult to bear with each passing second.
I couldn’t stay in that condition; I couldn’t remain there knowing he was with another woman and, moreover, he seemed intent on torturing me. That man was diabolical.
“I’m going to leave because I’m really very tired and I’ve started to get a terrible headache. It was nice seeing you all,” I said, as I approached everyone to say goodbye.
They tried to convince me to stay a little longer, but with the best smile I could fake, I stood firm and left there as quickly as my legs would allow.
While waiting for them to bring my car, my body trembled uncontrollably.
It was a warm night, but I was trembling with rage, trembling with indignation, and from the effort it took to hold back my tears.
When they parked my car in front of me, I walked around it and got in right away, but just as I was about to start the engine, the passenger door opened and Hermes sat down next to me.
This couldn’t be happening; that man was determined to make my life a living hell.