They are both tall and beautiful, and when they walk into the room, people turn to look. Gabriella’s vanity is undeniably stoked, because she feels herself blushing, with something akin to fear trembling in the pit of her stomach, with excitement, with delight at her shared fortune. The irony of the moment doesn’t escape her. Things should be the other way around—the public courting first; the intimacy, sexual and emotional, later. She doesn’t care, because right here, right now, all the little pieces she’s been carrying with her these weeks have fallen into their exact place.
He holds her hand as the hostess leads them to their table, in a corner of the room, a white, bright room, even under the dimmed lights, with sleek, polished, wooden floors and tables with white tablecloths adorned with lilac-colored orchids. The art on the walls is bright and shocking, slates of purples and reds and oranges, against the white walls, everything for sale. She sits against a backdrop of color: a triptych of apples—red over green, green over pale yellow, and pale yellow over red—three separate canvases, bound by a chain link that threads them together at the top and bottom, a celebration of colors whose effect on her is dampened by the appearance of Julio at her side. Julio pulls back his chair to take the seat next to Angel before Angel stops him with just a shake of the head, because this time, this one time, he will sit with only her and her alone, because this is her night.
“At the bar, Julio,” Angel tells him quietly, so quietly that only Julio can hear him, but still, he resents the order, resents her. Gabriella knows this in her gut, and for a second, she feels a tinge of remorse, then quickly tells herself that the bar makes so much more sense because it’s at the very entrance to the restaurant, because the other bodyguards are there, and because Julio, after all, is a bodyguard, not an uncle, not a father.
“Are you sure?” she asks nevertheless, and Angel only nods yes and sits down next to her, moving his chair closer so his knees graze her thighs underneath the table.