5: The Pen

At a table by the restaurant's largest window sat a man.
He wore an impeccable slate-blue suit with a navy tie. His salt-and-pepper hair was perfectly groomed, and he carried himself with quiet strength.
Manuel saw her appear at the door and raised his hand in greeting. Marta approached with a touch of shyness, and before she reached the table he was already on his feet, pulling out her chair.
"Good evening, Manuel." Marta said as he guided her into her seat.
"It's always a pleasure to see you, Marta."
Manuel extended his hand, which she took, and he kissed her knuckles warmly.
They ordered the chef's recommendation — a beautiful beef Wellington, paired with a 1994 Rioja from an exclusive cellar.
"A wonderful choice." Marta remarked as she tasted the wine.
"It was personally selected by Dionisio Estuardo, the hotel's owner."
"He has exquisite taste." Marta took another sip and set her glass down.
"But let's not talk about my brother-in-law, Marta." Manuel laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them. "I'm far more interested in hearing about your proposal — the merger."
Marta smiled with quiet confidence. They were on equal footing, but she was very skilled at handling situations like this. She dabbed the corner of her mouth and prepared to lay out her case.
"Both GOZZE and ADAN are modest companies with increasingly limited resources. Would you agree?"
"My son is optimistic on that front, but my view is the same as yours. Please, go on." Manuel smiled openly, his gaze moving between her eyes and her lips.
"My head of finance has presented me with a very favourable set of figures if we were to go through with the merger." Marta placed the report on the table with a carefully measured smile.
Manuel looked through the figures with interest and handed the folder back. Over the top of it, he offered his hand, waiting for Marta to take it.
She took the folder and put it in her bag.
"At ADAN, my head of PR — my only son, who has also read the proposal you sent me by email — has suggested we seal the union with a wedding."
"A wedding?" Marta had been about to take his hand, but the suggestion caught her off guard and she pulled back. "Isn't that rather drastic?"
"I must admit I have been captivated by your beauty since the moment we met a month ago — but tonight you are simply stunning." Manuel smiled warmly and did not lower his hand.
"It's true that my children have hinted at something similar." Marta glanced away, a look that might have passed for flirtation but was closer to calculation. "Though it's not without its risks, of course."
"My son knows how fond I am of you, and he doesn't want to see me die alone." Now it was Manuel's turn to play the sympathy card.
"And he's using the merger as an excuse to find you a companion — is that it?" Marta was tempted.
"He has his reasons, Marta, and nothing would please me more than to do this with you by my side."
Manuel then stood and reached into his pocket. He walked over to Marta and went down on one knee, presenting her with a fountain pen in lieu of a ring.
Marta, taken aback, glanced at the other diners in the restaurant, and then back at Manuel.
"What are you doing, Manuel? Get up!"
"Would you join our lives together, as a single path?"
"Manuel, I don't follow — are you seriously proposing that we get married?"
"Tomorrow, if you like. I have friends at the town hall who could arrange it."
"Don't you think it's a little hasty?" Marta was still somewhat hesitant.
"If you mean the contract, my son has already taken the trouble of drafting it."
"I think your son is trying to get rid of you." Marta teased. "Though it's true we're at an age when everything weighs a little heavier than it used to."
Marta took the pen and accepted.
Manuel smiled. Something in that smile pinched at Marta's heart — it reminded her of Mario's. Perhaps it was the hope of finding him again, or perhaps they simply had very similar smiles. But when Manuel leaned in to find a kiss, Marta turned away.
"I'm sorry, Manuel — this is strictly business." The words came out clumsy and hurried, and did nothing to explain why she had accepted his gift.
She knew it herself the moment she said it, and her answer was an embrace instead. A gesture as warm as a spontaneous kiss, but one that pointed the direction of their relationship firmly towards friendship.
"It's all right, Marta. I understand you haven't yet forgotten Sebastián — I haven't got over Marcela either." Manuel kissed her hands and sat back down.
Marta noticed he was slightly affected. But she was the one most affected of all — she could not make sense of her own body's reactions.
After dessert, and with a fountain pen in her pocket, Marta — and Manuel too — went home.
Marta arrived home on autopilot from the building's car park and, barely stopping to take off her coat and heels, threw herself face-down onto the bed.
The scent of chocolate again.
She got up furious, burning with frustration. She tore off her jacket and skirt. She grabbed her favourite perfume — the one that blended pineapple with pine nut — and sprayed it over the bed in anger.
"Get out of my head, Mario!" she shouted at the scent of chocolate that had lingered in the sheets. "Get out of my thoughts, for God's sake!"
She had never been this angry at herself. She would never before have turned away a gesture of affection from someone she got on with so well — and yet there she was, crying with pain over a young man who had upended her life so completely that she was questioning everything.
A spark crossed her mind. She let go of the perfume bottle and threw herself back onto the bed.
"No, no, no, no!" With eyes swollen from crying, she buried her nose in the sheets, searching for some trace of that unmistakable scent that made her think of Mario — and finally let herself admit it.
"Mario — what have you done to me? I'm not the same person anymore."