Senorita's eyes met the man called Mr Qin, his gaze cold and daring but tinged with curiosity.
He sat across from her, tapping his fingers on the table.
Feeling uncertain, Senorita wondered if she had jumped from one problem into a bigger one.
Mr. Qin's presence exuded power and mystery, even though her thoughts were a bit muddled from alcohol.
Mr. Qin began, "You seem to be in a tough spot tonight, young lady. You might be wondering why someone like me is in a place like this."
Senorita pondered if he was going to ask her to pay for the drink she had.
Some rich folks made poor people pay for the smallest things.
She thought of how Miguel, despite having enough money, always made her pay if she exceeded their budget. She was used to people demanding a price for everything.
With a hesitant nod, she recalled his question about her curiosity regarding his presence. 'Do I look like I care? I only care about how to pay for the beer.'
But, despite her skepticism, Senorita found herself intrigued by this enigmatic stranger. Her vision blurred a bit from the alcohol, making her feel vulnerable.
Mr. Qin continued, "I run a successful investments business, and my dealings often take me to unconventional places like this bar." He swept his hand to indicate the dimly lit surroundings.
Senorita, her mind sharp despite her vulnerable state, leaned forward. "Investments business? That sounds intriguing. What exactly does your business entail, Mister?"
Senorita had wondered why the man was chatting with her in the first place, now it seemed clear that the man was clearly advertising his business.
Mr. Qin leaned in slightly, his demeanor still aloof but with a hint of intrigue. "Well, my dear, imagine a puzzle where you have to fit the right pieces together to create a beautiful picture. In my line of work, the pieces are investments, and the picture is a future where those investments have grown into something substantial."
Senorita's curiosity deepened. "So, you make strategic decisions to help people's money grow over time?"
It somehow sounded familiar to the job Miguel was doing. Or a similar company he was working under.
"Exactly," Mr. Qin affirmed, his gaze unwavering. "I make calculated choices about where to allocate funds, aiming for optimal growth and security."
Taking a deep breath, with courage, Senorita decided to ask him, her voice in a slur as she tried to keep her gaze on the man in front of her. "Please, can you...can you... tell me the reason you are telling me these?"
Senorita paused and then shook her head slowly, "I don't even have a dime on me to pay back for taking your leftover...how do I... how is your investment business relevant to me? I don't have funds you will love to allocate to somewhere nor do I have...like I said a dime to plant for it to grow."
Lorenzo Qin laughed at the drunken woman he was conversing with, he had never seen a woman use a pun so fluently, and this one was even drunk. However, the only reason he was staying with her wasn't because he wanted to.
He was suddenly bothered by his parents' incessant pressure and this time, though his father was considerate, his mother went extreme.
*Earlier in the day*
After an intense meeting, Lorenzo returned to his elegant office, a sanctuary of modernity and sophistication. It was a place where he could gather his thoughts and, on occasion, escape from the relentless demands of the corporate world.
As he settled into his leather chair, he glanced at the photograph on his desk—a cherished image of a woman with an elegant smile.
Moments later, his office door opened, and a graceful figure entered. It was the same woman in the photograph on his desk; his mother, Mrs. Rachael Qin, a woman of impeccable taste and poise. Her presence exuded a sense of authority that matched her son's.
"Renny," she said, using his pet name, "I trust your meeting went well?"
Lorenzo nodded, his gaze meeting his mother's discerning eyes. "Yes, Mother, the deal is secure. Our company's future is promising."
She smiled warmly, her pride evident. However, her expression shifted, and she adopted a more serious tone. "Son, it has come to my attention that you have been neglecting an important matter—a matter of great importance to our family."
Lorenzo furrowed his brow, knowing exactly what his mother referred to. "You mean my marriage."
Mrs. Qin nodded. "Yes, son. You are supposed to be married by now, and you've been delaying it for far too long. Our family's legacy depends on it."
Lorenzo sighed, the weight of tradition and duty pressing upon him. He had always been a man of business, but his mother reminded him that there were aspects of his life that required attention beyond boardrooms and negotiations.
"Mother, I understand the importance," he replied, his voice tinged with resignation. "But I won't rush into something as significant as marriage. I need to find the right person, someone who understands the demands of my life."
However, expecting his mother's understanding, Lorenzo was stunned when his mother began to sob softly, reacting otherwise.
He looked up and gritted his teeth, seeing tears already staining her gorgeous face.
"Mother, why are you crying?"
"You refuse to bear me any grandchildren," she responded, quickly dabbing her handkerchief across her face and blowing her nose at the same time.
Lorenzo knew his mother was a great actress, but still, be it that she was pretending to cry or not, he could not even bear the feeling of seeing a drop of tears on her face.
He sighed, thinking of what to say to calm her down, "Mother...you still have to—"
"Wait? I have been ringing this to your ear for the past five years, Lorenzo," she seemed to be more serious, annoyance palpable as she conversed her feelings. I gave you enough time. You have had flings but no, you refused to wed any of them. You had flipped over the blind dates I have arranged, hoping you would find a woman to make your heart ble—"
"Mother, I do not need to hurry while picking a—"
"Wife? You didn't even give them a chance. You always scare them. You are thirty now, an old man if you do not know!"
Lorenzo sighed, having no idea what to say anymore because his mother's crying had become louder.
"Son, seriously, why aren't you taking after your old man? He sowed his wild oats at twenty-three, and voilà, you came into existence!"
Mrs Qin added a dramatic flourish with her hand while pretending to sob.
"Am I a laughingstock here? I don't have a parade of other kids lining up to provide me with grandbabies, you know!"
And this was the limit Lorenzo could take. "Fine, mother. I will get married soon."
"When?"
"Within this year."
"What?!" Mrs. Qin exclaimed, pretending to faint in shock. "Did I flood the room with tears just to get this from you, Renny?"
Lorenzo feigned innocence, "What? You doubt me? It's a solemn promise."
"I want to meet your future bride today."
Lorenzo's eyes widened in mock surprise, "Mother? Are you aware we're currently discussing the existence of a woman right here?"
"I'm quite certain I didn't mix up my words, Lorenzo Qin. At the latest, tomorrow. I absolutely must lay eyes on her by then." She rose from her seat with an exaggerated flourish, and Davis, lurking in the corner, rushed to her side, ready to escort her.
As Mrs. Qin reached the door, she spined around to face her son one more time, her tone playful yet theatrical, "Tomorrow, my dear Lorenzo Qin. I'm afraid I might not survive any longer before I start juggling knives with my throat."
"Mother!"
Mrs Rachael Qin hid her smile.
"Lorenzo, my dear boy, your face is a comedy masterpiece, but I'm in the mood for a heartwarming drama – one starring your future child! Let's trade laughs for baby cuddles, shall we?"
Lorenzo blinked, trying to get into his head what his mother just meant.
Was she calling him ugly?
As the echoing sounds of her footsteps faded into the distance, Lorenzo couldn't help but release a resigned sigh, realizing that the time had indeed come for him to take the plunge into matrimony.