Page 26 of Enzo

“I managed to rescue the poor prince. He's in finance and real estate, warring subjects, if you ask me, but who am I to judge? Still, he's been good to me...” I turn the camera around so that I'm filming him, and I start talking again. “He's talking to someone. He won't take off his mask but he seems sweet and ...”

Just then he walks back into view again.

“Are you filming again?” He doesn't sound too pleased about it.

I immediately stop recording. “I'm sorry. I wanted to capture as much of this evening as I could,” I explain. “I was filming to show my headmistress. She was supposed to come here, but she's not well, and she sent me instead.”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“It’s the only reason. It was very kind of her.” I chew my lip. “I won't send these clips to her if you don't want me to.”

He appears to consider it. Then, “I don’t see a problem. You can send them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.

“Thank you, also … you're wearing a mask,” I remind him, “and no one's going to know who you are.”

“Thank goodness.” He glances at my empty plate. “Would you like more? A third or fifth helping?”

I think he made a joke. I smile. “That would be too rude. There is dinner afterwards. Are the tables numbered or named?”

“They're not named. We can sit wherever we want.”

“Oh good! We can sit together.” I'm happy about this, but again, his expression is hard to read.

“Don't you want to?” I ask, just I realize something. Maybe he’s not alone. “Did you come here with someone?”

Shock freezes me. I presumed he was alone, like me.

“If I was here with someone they'd surely have come looking for me by now.”

This is true. A sigh of relief leaves my lips. “They would have. So, you are alone, like me.”

I blink furiously, feeling like I’ve got grit in my eye. “Oh …” I blink some more, because it’s irritating.

“You … dropped something.” He peers closer, then looks at me in horror.

I peer down to see an eyelash floating around in my champagne.

“What is that?” He recoils as I fish it out with a finger.

“A false eyelash.” I hold it up triumphantly. “I told my friend I didn’t want to wear these.” I wipe it off on my napkin. “She insisted. She said it would make my eyes stand out even though I was wearing a mask.”

He leans closer to me. My breath catches because he’s very close.

“What is it now?” I don't like the expression on his face.

“Your eyes. They look a bit strange, not too strange, but … strange.”

I shrink back.

“You look wonderful,” he says, quickly. “Striking, even, … but your one eye has long eyelashes and the other one ...”

“Would you mind?” I close my eyes and jut my face towards him.

“Would I mind what?”