Dinner at the famous CityCent restaurant promised.
Marcy already had attended in the past events of the Duxa Limited, but that night was going to be special, was expected to the staff of the company. A long and upbeat table, prepared with luxury, awaited the distinguished guests. The table was ware with first class linen, and in front of each dish, a set of very fine crystal glasses. The group was gathering in the bar, then went to the dining room and took seat each in the place indicated on their respective card, employees at one end of the table and accompanying persons to the other.
Marcy had quite far from Manele and in his same side of the table, so that only saw him from time to time, according to the movement of heads they separated them. She noted that, in front of him, Sonia had been sitting.
The ladies spoke banal conversations that Marcy just heard while she was monitoring the evolutions of her husband. Children and the house were the topics preferences in that class of events; ladies, as dizzy parrots, spoke all at the same time. Marcy said something, from time to time.
-Marcy - told the wife of one of the executives -he looks Manele fascinated with Sonia.
Marcy warned in his eyes a curiosity morbid to see the reaction to her words. The others paid attention.
-They are so workers! They do not speak more than the company -Marcy answered with little faith in have managed to erase the effect of the lady´s words. "Old witch, old cockatoo". Willingly she had emptied design water pitcher, above his terrible hairstyle, old-fashioned. She looked, as soon as she could, in direction to her husband, noting, with dissimulation, that Sonia, seemed ready to use its weapons of women. The executive paid attention to his teammates as if they were supermen, but, above all, was attentive to Manele. She went to the bathroom, showing, in view of all, its minimum black suit, that let it see her beautiful legs. Returning, while she accommodated her handbag, she discovered among the jacket flaps, two portions of chest lush. There was no movement of the blonde platinum Marcy not observed, in a dance that was studied to perfection to conquer her husband. The divine blonde platinum was at the peak of her seduction. Marcy had to make use of all its cold blood to control her, while talking with her partners, almost without knowing what she said. The delicacies, presented in enormous plates, which seemed more works of art that foods were available. In other circumstances, Marcy would have appreciated much those foods, but at that time everything seemed to be strange, as part of a function of theatre in which she was barely helper.