My secondary male lead in "Damsel in the Red Dress" is part Irish, so I hope this counts. He's also Saudi and Venezuelan so:
I smile again and it’s easier than the last one. Mr. Carmichael scribbles on his phone with a green paisley stylus.
“Fortunately your ancestors did half the marketing for us. I’ll bet money there aren’t many other artists with your last name on the market right now. Where exactly does ‘Palmero’ originate from, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It’s Spanish,” I smooth the front of the binder with my left hand, but keep my eyes on his face, “I’m Mexican and Navajo on my dad’s side - just plain Mexican on my mother's.”
“Is that so,” he says with a smile, “speak any Spanish?”
I nod, “I’m out of practice though.”
“But that increases our options ten-fold. That’s good to know. If you happen to be able to dance on aerial silks or do a backflip, you should also not hesitate to mention that....”
I laugh and his green eyes laugh back at me. I submit to my curiosity.
“Okay, but you -” I begin, and he looks up from his phone, “You have me stumped…the green eyes…”
“Arab, Irish, and Venezuelan,” he says with a wave of his hand. “My ancestors put all the jokers in my deck.”
“Or maybe they just wanted you to be ‘colorful,’” I quip.
“Colorful,” he bounces his eyebrows in a way that makes me start cracking up, “Like those nasty little pieces of dried hell in a fruit cake. But you’re the ‘rainbow ocean,’ not me. Though admittedly a lot less of a rainbow...”