Flores :: Carlos Sainz

Seis

"There is a taxi strike tonight?" Eleanor asked when she looked up from her phone.

"Oh." Carlos squeezed his eyebrows together to a thin line and tapped his credit card on the table. He was waiting for the receipt. "That is...unhandy."

The waiter came with the receipt and paying machine. He handled it with Carlos, who asked him about the taxis. "Yes, there is a taxi strike this evening, sir. Very unfortunate. I want to apologise, but this is not on us," the waiter politely smiled.

"No, absolutely. And thank you," Carlos warmly smiled.

"Have a nice evening and a safe trip home."

"Gracias," Eleanor politely smiled at the waiter. Her eyes fell on Carlos again. "How much is my part?"

His eyebrows raised, and he took the last sip of his water. "Zero euro," he said and got up. "It is on me. You had the Dutch dinner; I have the Spanish dinner." It was only the third meet-up, but Carlos had already noticed that Eleanor grew up differently. Carlos paid for the drinks at that cafe when they first met - even though Eleanor insisted on paying for her drinks first. And their dinner of last week, 'It's on me because you paid for me the last time,' were her words. So it would be obvious it was Carlos' turn this time, but Eleanor still wanted to pay for her part.

"Oh, okay," Eleanor softly said and got up as well. "Thank you," she smiled and grabbed her purse. "How did you get here?"

The Spaniard and Dutchwoman were walking away from the restaurant. It was almost midnight, but you wouldn't say that from the number of people still dining.

"The metro," he responded. "I knew I would drink wine, and I felt like taking the metro today."

She nodded and looked down to the street. "Yeah..."

"Do you get home now?"

"I don't think so," she mumbled. "The bus to the village only drives to eleven o'clock and if there are no taxis... Is it only in Madrid or in the entire country?"

"I would say in the entire country, but I have no idea. Why only strike in one city? But I don't know, honestly. If I knew there would be a strike, I would have taken the car and not drank a bottle of wine."

Their arms touched during the walking. Eleanor looked at him. "We both didn't know it. It is what it is," she said. "It's worth the gazpacho, paella and jamón though."

"Such a wonderful combination," he smirked.

"I had to taste everything - even though I eat it all quite often. But I never ate it in Spain."

"See, still a first time," he winked. "But you can stay over at mine tonight?" Carlos proposed. "Only if you feel comfortable with it."

"If it's not a problem?"

"If it would be a problem, I would not have asked it."

She smirked softly. "Touché." Eleanor tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I will take the couch," she mentioned. "And thank you."

"Anytime." How am I supposed to leave her behind in an unfamiliar city at midnight? Carlos ran his hand through his hair. He didn't know her much, but leaving someone behind, wasn't a thing he would do. It remained silent for a couple of minutes before Carlos asked something. "How do you get happy?" The deep questions stage just began this evening.

"Happy..." Eleanor sucked in some air in her cheeks and quietly blew it out. "I am the easiest person to impress, to please, to make happy," she mentioned. "Helping me out? Happy. Just giving me a smile? Happy. Compliment? I will remember it. Even the smallest things make me happy. No one has ever really bought me flowers or taken me dancing or on a picnic or any of that romantic junk." She let her eyes glide over the buildings; it still felt surreal that she was based in Spain instead of the Netherlands. The vibe of this country was good.