C4 Chapter 4

As soon as he sees Marcia, he turns in the direction June indicated and walks toward the wine table.

From his first glance at the table a moment ago, he knows that some club members are pouring tiny portions of wine for guests to taste and to share their thoughts on the quality and flavor of the wine.

Others are helping guests decide which wines they would actually like to drink for the evening, and the rest are taking names and contact information from guests, possibly for some kind of follow-up later.

The atmosphere is rowdy, a situation the runner has been trying to avoid, but he would rather face this engage with the student he had met earlier that day.

Surprised, Marcia stops, watching him walk away, feeling embarrassed. She returns to the two friends she had been standing with earlier and continues talking with them.

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By the end of the evening, the runner is leaving when Marcia rushes up to him, grabbing his shoulder, “Hey! Hello there. I see you came. How was the event? Did you like any particular wine?” She chirps.

The runner stops, turning his head slightly, irritation creeping into his voice, “Must you lay your hands on me when you speak?”

Marcia nervously withdraws her hand. Her head hanging low, she apologizes to him, “Oh, I'm sorry. I, I, I didn't mean to do that...again.” She replies nervously, looking around, checking that no one is witnessing this scene.

The runner glances at Marcia and then quickly looks away fixing his eyes just above Marcia's left shoulder.

“Do you also always apologize every time? Are apologies the only words you know how to speak?” He retorts, his eyes still averted.

Marcia, surprised and somewhat, more than a little annoyed at this response, fixes her gaze on the runner and says, in a tone much harsher than she intended, “Well, I don't know. Maybe. What about you? Is all you know how to do is look away from someone when speaking?”

She holds her breath, surprised at the shortness of her tone but staring directly at him, her mind racing.

Has he stopped breathing?

It seems...I don't know...It seems something is going on in his mind.

Marcia muses as she fixes her deep brown eyes on her runner’s face.

...MY runner?

Marcia’s mind starts racing and her face flushes unexpectedly.

Meanwhile, as a hundred things go on in Marcia’s head, the runner slowly turns his gaze toward her and his eyes come to rest on her now flush face.

“No, I can look at people when I speak to them.” He replies evenly.

Marcia, straightening her shoulders a bit retorts, “Well, that's good to know. Do you have a name as well?”

The runner’s mouth twitches slightly, hinting at a suppressed smile.

My runner. Her mind buzzes again.

He seems to pause and then, as if making a decision, responds, “Jullian.”

Marcia blinks, exhales slightly, relaxes her shoulders a bit, and replies, “Oh! Great! Jullian. I'm Marcia”, she chimes, holding out her hand for a handshake.

The runner looks down at Marcia's hand, again, seems to pause for a moment, and then stretches out his hand to complete the greeting.

Still holding Jullian's hand, Marcia inquiries spiritedly, “So, how was the wine tasting?”

Jullian's eyes are on their hands, still locked together in the handshake.

He gazes back up at Marcia's face and responds flatly, “It was average. The wine was of sufficient quality for the level of the club. One could not expect wine from the Musigny vineyard nor from the Sauternes region of Bordeaux, but this was not unsatisfactory.”

Marcia, excitement bubbling within her, pulls Jullian's hand, making him involuntarily take a step forward.

Looking into his eyes enthusiastically she presses him excitedly, “Do you know wine? You know about wines? How do you know the Musigny vineyard and Sauternes? What about wines from the Vega Sicilia estate or the Harlan Estate? Do you know about those as well?”

Jullian tries to pull his hand out of the handshake that has gone on far too long. But Marcia tightens her grip and grabs his hand with her second hand, her brown eyes clearly saying, tell me more, tell me more about the wines and the regions that you know.

Jullian exhales and puts his hand over Marcia's two hands, applying pressure and pulling away from the handshake.

Marcia steps back nervously, “Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about that. I…I overdid it again. I'm so sorry.” She comments apologetically.

Jullian exhales, shaking his head. “Sorry. Sorry again.” He replies, his voice flat.

“Sorry. Uh, no, that's not what I meant. I meant, I mean…what I'm trying to say is I love wines, probably a bit too much, and you seem to know about it. And I think it would be good for us to have some conversations about it. And maybe you could even join the club?” Marcia responds hurriedly, an embarrassed expression on her face.

Jullian turns to leave, standing sideways to her, “I don't join clubs. It's not something I'm interested in.” He remarks dismissively.

As he starts to leave, Marcia grabs his arm again; and again, Jullian looks at Marcia in the face, exasperated. But this time, Marcia tightens her grip and takes a step forward, “Is it clubs that you don't join? Or is it people that you don't join?” She questions, her voice sharp.

Jullian lifts his chin slightly, staring into her eyes.

This time, Marcia is the one to look away, her gaze drifting down to the space between his nose and chin.

She glances at his lips, and quickly blurs her vision by looking at the space just before this part of Jullian’s face. But she does not let go of his arm.

Jullian, after what seems like forever, responds, “I won't join the club. But if it's about wine and where it's grown, I can talk about that.”

Marcia looks up, her doe eyes shining and dancing in her clear, oval-shaped face, and responds “Excellent! Great! Where do we meet? How do we meet?” She responds, her voice vibrant once again.

Jullian pulls away from Marcia and asks neutrally, “You have a phone number?”