Chapter 3

Her mum’s glowing face dimmed a little when she saw Elia bringing Mariah with her in her arms, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction inside her and she felt a little bit more protected from any potential matchmaking.

“This is my second daughter, Elia” She informed the cheery guy. “And that is Mariah, the daughter of her friend” Elia was amused by how quickly her mum seemed to point to the fact that Mariah was not her child, she was also surprised to hear her talking to him in Spanish.

“Elia this is Carlos Barrera, he is the new artist sent to work with your dad. He is originally from Cuba!”

Delighted!” He cried in Spanish before Elia could react He held out his hand and shook hers with fervour. Afro-Cuban, now she realised why her mum seemed to be in such a state of excitement.

Switching to Spanish herself she greeted him warmly.

“This is Alexandre Dargas.” Her dad explained, bringing the conversation back to English and motioning towards the other, more subdued one. “You’ll have to speak to one in Spanish and the other in English. “Carlos speaks no English. And Alexandre, no habla español.” Elia smiled, nodded, turned toward Alexandre and held out her hand. He nonchalantly and politely reached across to give her a typically continental double cheek kiss.

“Dargas?” She repeated Curiously. “Any relation to Catherine?”

“Yes, she is my mother.” He informed her quietly.

“Oh wow!” She exclaimed, in surprise. It wasn’t the response she was expecting, she knew how Catherine was often difficult and demanding, surely being raised by her was not an easy undertaking

“You speak Spanish with a little bit of an English accent.” observed Carlos. Elia’s parents chuckled but she just smiled. She spoke Spanish well, fluently in fact but held a slight complex that she still couldn’t completely pass for a native speaker.

“Sorry” He began sheepishly. “I hope I did not offend.”

“No, it’s fine!” She assured him. and then continued to converse with him as Jazmin, Billy, and Cecilia joined them translating between themselves when necessary. Turns out he had lived in Cuba until he was nine years old before his family moved to Paris where they already had relatives. Like her he had come from a career in theatre, now, however, he wanted more and was striving to make it come true.

“And you?” He asked. “do you sing and act too?”

“No, not really. I mean I do sing in the ensemble but I’m not solo material. I’m more comfortable just dancing.”

“Can you Salsa?”

“Of course!” She exclaimed passionately, almost shouting. “I dance Salsa, Cumbia, Batacha especially, I love it all. It’s in my blood! “ Carlos beamed

“Jazmin promised to dance with me later, we’ll have to have a dance after too!” He insisted.

“She’s a much better dancer than me.” Jazmin interjected.

“I don’t care.” Carlos told her smiling coyly.

“Besides, Elia and Spanish music!” Jazmin began. “It’s almost all she listens to.”

“It is?” He queried. “And yet you still have an accent when you speak it?” Elia’s jaw dropped and she playfully feigned offence. Jazmin and Carlos laughed.

“No, Sorry I didn’t mean...” He spluttered through his mirth as Jazmin translated the exchange to the other three members of the group.

“Alright everyone, the food’s ready!” Noah called out, The little group dispersed and after making sure the other guest had filled their plates to satisfaction Elia filled her own, picking out a little of both variations of the rice that was there, tortillas, and frijoles as well as some Fajita and jerk meat. Afterwards, she busied herself in helping out her dad take care of the guests. Her mum meanwhile was occupied with chatting away hardly noticing Lydia shamelessly attempting to get Alexandre’s attention without success. It was a different story for Jazmin however who seemed to bashfully enjoy Carlos’s attentions.

“What do you think of him?!” Elia turned to face Lydia who’s face was glowing enthusiastically

“Who?”

“Alexandre of course!” Lydia exclaimed impatiently.

“Dunno” She responded with a shrug. “He doesn’t seem to have much to say for himself.”

“Do you know his dad was dad was a multi-millionaire, even richer than what Catherine is?!” She raved.

Elia scoffed at her sister and discreetly glanced at the sombre man who was currently sat on his own.

“You’re telling me all that money and he can’t even afford to buy sun cream?!” She joked. Lydia looked affronted.