A Tiny Favour

Chapter 25

I don't know what I was expecting when I was told I would be attending a country club Christmas party but it certainly wasn't this. There are people my age walking around with champagne flutes and whisky. There is no shortage of things to do including one group of men ranging from ones in their twenties to sixties playing an intense card game.

"This is a lot more lively then i anticipated," i admit in a hush whisper. It's not like anyone could hear me with the blaring christmas carols.

"Even the old men find ways to keep things interesting," she whispers back. One perfectly manicured finger that certainly wasn't done during our early morning outing points to a grey haired man. "Grey haired" is even an exaggeration with the amount of visible scalp. "That's Albert, he's never been married but owns this big insurance company so every woman fifty plus flirts with him. Last year he caused a cat fight between a widow and a married lady," she explains and i can't help laughing.

Some people turn their heads to look at me but quickly go back to their conversations, all but the woman that caused our whole fake dating situation.

Edwin wanders over, thin hands with a thin stemmed glass of bubbly champagne and a smile across her aged face. She's dressed beautifully in a black knee length dress that has rhinestones along the neckline and ruffled sleeves. Her hair done up in a loose updo complete with a shiny silver headband.

"Time to turn on the charm," Isabelle jokingly instructs, looping her arm through mine and pulling herself close.

"I'm always charming," I chuckle but edwins already within hearing distance.

"Belles," she sings, putting a light peck on my date's cheek. I can call her my date even though it's fake, right? Technically we are attending a fancy event together, so I'm going with yes. "And this is the handsome boyfriend," she grins at me.

"Hi edwin," Isabelle smiles, obviously delighted. "Have we missed anything exciting yet? Albert causing issues yet?"

"Oh you're horrible to that poor man," she tilts her head to one side and purses her lips, "he isn't out looking for trouble. Look at him at that bar all alone, avoiding females".

I study the elderly man who's settled and leaned into the counter of the open bar. By him is an amber liquid in a crystal glass as he chats with the male bartender, this one is in his mid thirties so nothing to worry about today. The man with the silver shaker nods along as Albert tells a story, no one else within ten feet.

"It's entertaining," Isabelle shrugs, "like a live soap opera".

I look over at her with false shock and shake my head, "Tesoro, if you like soap operas I might have to end things right now".

She giggles and playfully pushes my arm, "you wouldn't survive without me, Adam". True, very much true.

Edwin chimes in curiously, "what does 'tesoro' mean and what language is that? It's beautiful".

I smile, it's not too often I get to talk about Italy and I will take any chance I can get. In elementary school some people thought i was lying because my english was so good, but the truth was i think in Italian and i had to mentally translate every thought before speaking. And in highschool they taught me saying "I'm from italy '' meant my family was from italy and i was born in america.

But now being Italian and speaking the language is well respected amongst adults and lands me on girls. The first one I appreciate more.

"It's Italian," I finally answered, "I lived there until I was ten and then came to the States".

"And that little pet name you used?"

"That is a secret,'' I answer coyly, "either you learn Italian and figure it out or Isabelle will live the rest of her life wondering if I'm insulting her ''.