To Color Your Life

"Since when do you drink dry wine, dear? I thought you hated it." Arthur Pitcher handed a glass to Marian.

The woman nodded in gratitude and took a sip, "I'm surprised you remember such details. As for the wine..." She raised the glass to eye level. Through thin glass walls and a translucent liquid, one could see a beautiful couple dancing for the fifth time in a row.

"Tastes change over time. As do people. And this wine also doesn't make you wake up with a terrible headache in the morning." Mrs. Hayes winked at the man and went back to watching the main couple of the evening.

Arthur was standing nearby and also watching his grandson and his beautiful wife, who at that moment looked as if they were the only people on earth who knew what happiness was.

"She said it was an honor for her that I took her to the altar," the man remembered what Emily had said to him before they went out to the guests. "But actually, it was an honor for me."

Marian said nothing. And only the tips of her fingers gripped the stem of the wine glass tighter.

"You know, I never told you, but I'm sure it would have been a girl. When I look at Emily, I think our daughter would have been like her. Unless the hair would have been a little darker," the man's voice cracked. "Sorry. Don't listen to the old senile."

The woman closed her eyes to hold back tears. "Even now, it is impossible to determine the sex of a baby in the first month of pregnancy. What can we say about those times," she replied. But had that child been born... it would have definitely been a girl.

"By the way, who is this young man?" Mrs. Hayes pointed to one of the guests, "I've been watching him for a couple of hours. He never keeps his eyes off my Emily."

Pitcher followed her gaze in the direction she was pointing and sighed. "Another child who did not receive love in childhood. And now he doesn't know what to do with it," the man commented sadly.

"Hmm..."

Arthur chuckled, studying the woman's pensive face, "Yes, your granddaughter can break hearts as well as you, my Cleopatra. But unlike you, she doesn't even notice it."

Marian glanced at the man, pretending not to understand at all what he was talking about. Mr. Pitcher rolled his eyes and extended his elbow. "Shall we dance? I'll just refresh in your memory the story of one poor boy who founded an entire printing empire to win the heart of a beautiful actress."

The woman smiled flirtatiously, "For some reason, it seems to me that this story will end in a drama."

She put her hand on the man's elbow and followed him to the center of the hall, where her granddaughter and her husband were dancing.

"Why drama? The story is not over yet. As far as I know, the main characters are just going on a journey together."

"Hmm, then I guess I'll listen to what's about to happen next."

...

Christian glanced at his watch. He had stayed here long enough to show politeness and respect for the heroes of the occasion, but there was no point in staying any longer.

No matter how much he looked at the girl in a beautiful white dress, her gentle smile was intended for another man.

She was especially beautiful today. Brides never aroused the feeling of awe in him, this feeling was, in principle, unknown to him. Up to this day.

When she stepped onto the path and took the first step, it took a lot of courage for him to keep himself stay on one spot. The body itself wanted to get up and move towards her.

So gentle, pure, beautiful. The hair, laid on the head in the form of a crown, resembled frozen rose petals. The light train was like wings. It seemed to him, just a little blow of the breeze - and these wings will flap up, turning her into an angel.

She noticed him. She noticed him and smiled. The silent movements of her lips turned of their own accord into her voice there, inside him. Where no one else had access.

"Thank you," she said at that moment.

Christian placed an empty wine glass on the edge of the table and walked over to the couple dancing in the center of the room. No one dared to disturb them. But what does he care about the opinions of others when this is the only and last chance to be with her like this?

Subdued light will hide his burning gaze. Music will justify inappropriate intimacy.

"Can I steal your wife for one dance?" he turned to Justin but kept looking at Emily.

Evans reluctantly stopped and let go of the girl's hand, "Okay. My wife today is the main treasure of this holiday. I think many of the guests will want to get her for one dance." The groom, with the air of a winner, went to the others.

Yes. That's right. Denver is just one of the guests. He hadn't counted on more.

"Congratulations," Christian gently squeezed the girl's hand and put his other hand on her waist.

"Thank you, Chris. The hotel and the garden are great!" When Emily saw this new complex, she immediately liked the place. But all convenient dates have been booked. Imagine her surprise when she found out that the owner of the resort was Christian Denver himself!

"You are an amazing person," she continued, not hiding her sincere admiration. "How can you manage so many projects at the same time? Now I understand how lucky I am to be partners with you. With your experience, Pharaoh magazine will not face bankruptcy, even if I mess it up somewhere."

Denver smiled as he listened to the girl's laugh. Who was amazing, in his opinion, it was she.

Her presence alone inspired people to new ideas and work. What is he? He was just working like a slave, from morning to night. What's the point of leaving work early if no one is waiting for you at home?

"You can have it."

"What?" Emily didn't understand.

"This resort. That'll be my wedding gift for you." the man said the first thing that came to mind.

Emily blinked, trying to decide if it was a joke or if he was being serious.

She lifted her head and stared into Denver's face.

It was already dusk outside, which made Christian's eyes almost black. Their dance continued, but the man did not even listen to the music. He bent down to Emily's face, his breath was touching the girl's skin.

"Sometimes I want to steal you and take you for myself. May I?" The words flew from his lips before he realized what was said.

"Huh?" Emily stumbled, and Christian immediately grabbed her, hugging her. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough for him to realize how close he was to the red line.

The man took a step back and smiled, "I think a creative director with a fresh perspective on things would suit this place. How about a little side job?"

"Ahh, so that's what you are you talking about..." Emily's shoulders noticeably relaxed, "You scared the hell out of me!" She lightly slapped the man on the shoulder, "Chris, common, how can you present this resort to me?! I'm not cool enough yet to lead two different projects. You overestimate my capabilities."

"Not at all, Mrs. Evans," he said, reminding himself of Emily's new status. "My experience is that you will be a great manager."

The girl laughed, "Okay partner. For some time now I like difficult tasks. How about a new bet? If the case we discussed last week works out, then you will let me take over the development of this hotel." She looked around the place where they were.

Christian grinned, "The dragon is getting bolder and bolder, isn't it? Is it okay that I have reviewed the financial model of this plan myself? You deprive me of the opportunity to win from the very beginning."

"I just have a good mentor now," she winked.

"It looks like my young Padawan will soon surpass his teacher," Denver said with such warmth in his voice that Emily's heart skipped a beat and she looked away.

They spent the rest of the dance in silence.

As one tune changed to another, Denver stopped and brought the girl's hand to his lips, kissing it, "Congratulations again, Emily. I wish you to be happy." So happy that I have no reason to doubt it, he added to himself.

"Leaving so soon?"

"Yes, I have to go," Christian nodded. "Thank you for the dance and-"

"Emy, Justin is calling you," a ringing voice burst into their dialogue. Zoya walked over to them and stared at Chris with a try-run-again look. "In the meantime, I'll keep Mr. Denver company."

"Oh, great idea!" Emily supported the girl, knowing her futile attempts to get closer to the man. It was a great opportunity to chat, even if it's three minutes of a song. "Christian, Zoya, have a nice evening."

She, with a sense of the accomplished important task, hastened to return to her husband.

And only Denver wished he had escaped earlier as planned. It seems that he will have to pay with unpleasant dialogue for the pleasant dance with the bride. Well, maybe that's even for the best.

He would take Pitcher's granddaughter of all illusions now, before her dreams went too far. He already knows what it feels like when these dreams are mercilessly destroying you.

Christian held out his hand to Zoya, "How about one last dance, Miss Evans?"