Velasquez leaned forward. “Ricardo?”
“Yes?”
“One hundred cruzerios says you can’t get a dance with her!”
“Do you know who she is?”
“No.”
“She’s sitting with another man, Esteban!”
“So? That’s never stopped you before! Besides, they don’t look as though they are married – he’s sitting too far apart from her!” he said, laughing.
Delgado hesitated.
“Go on – you can only ask and be refused!” and he slapped the money on the table.
Delgado stood, spruced himself up and walked towards her table. When he stood before her she looked up at him.
“Hello!” Her eyes were warm and welcoming, her voice pleasing to his ears.
“Good evening, senorita. Senor, may I have permission to dance with the lady?” he asked, oozing as much charm as he could muster.
“The lady’s not dancing.” Responded the man sitting beside her.
Disappointed, and with a dismissive gesture of his left hand, he made to move away. The bet was lost.
“But the lady would like to dance!” she said, suddenly impressed by this tall, dark and handsome man standing before her. She stood up, taking Delgado’s arm as, smiling, he led her to the dance floor. The bet was won!
He turned to take her in his arms to the music of the rumba.
“You could be a professional dancer!” he said, impressed at her ability to read his dancing moves.
