The Mafia Kidnapped Me

(5) The gala - II

"Marcel," Pamela whispered.

Saying his name still made her heart race, still made her breath hitch, and still gave her goose bumps in a pleasurable way. His curly blonde hair looked so soft, his blue eyes so mesmerizing, his lips so pink – the lips that had kissed her a lot, that had whispered sensual things to her and had made her shiver with desire.

It was Marcel. The love of her life, her ex-fiancé.

"Pamela." He smiled at her, his eyes somber. He moved closer and Pamela perceived his cologne. It was the one she had gotten him on his last birthday that they had spent together. He still wore it, and that meant a lot to her.

"How are you?"

She gave him a tight smile. "Fine." Her voice sounded parched. She cleared her throat. "Fine. And – and you?"

"I'm okay." He said, fiddling with his fingers. She looked at them and saw they were very neat and kept. Marcel had always been neat, just like her and that was one of the reasons they had fallen in love with each other. But they were now separated. Her heart broke all over.

"Come, let's sit and talk." He led her to the bar and ordered two drinks for both of them. He gave her a Daiquiri, blended with white rum and lemon fruit juice.

She smiled as she accepted the glass. Lemons were her favorite. "You still remember?"

"I'll always remember." He replied with a grin as he stirred his drink.

"Do you still take your coffee black? And your pizza with pepperoni and sauce?"

He placed a hand on his chest. "Always and forever."

They both laughed.

"So," Marcel started. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Me neither. You've always been a non-party person." She laughed nervously.

"I could never remain the same, you know. I had to change some things in my lifestyle after our – " he paused as if looking for the right word.

"Separation," Pamela offered softly.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, that."

An awkward silence fell between them. The soft music filled the air, alongside people's laughter, chatter, and clatter of wine glasses.

"You look absolutely beautiful, by the way."

Pamela blushed. "Thank you." She whispered. Then thinking of what to say, she decided to clear the air about their fallout.

"About our breakup, I want you to know that I never meant to – "

A throat was cleared, rather obtrusively, behind them. Pamela grimaced, knowing who it was. She turned around to meet Devlin's brown eyes looking down at them menacingly. His face bore no emotion but she could see the tidbits of anger in his eyes.

She let out a sigh. "Marcel, this is my date, Devlin. Devlin, Marcel. He's – an old friend." She introduced them.

The two men regarded each other coolly as if trying to gauge who had the most power or authority. Marcel was tall, but Devlin was taller. Marcel was clean-shaven and very neat, not a hair was out of place and his shirt had not a wrinkle while Devlin on the other hand was more rugged, sporting a day-old beard and it was somewhat appealing. No doubt, Devlin emanated the greater authority.

Pamela caught herself just in time. How dare she compare the two? How could she compare a criminal to a law-abiding citizen?

Part of her wanted to introduce Devlin as her boyfriend because she didn't want to appear weak before Marcel, didn't want him to know that since last year they separated, she hadn't been able to get over him, not to talk of bringing herself to love another.