The Elegant party

Looking around the big ballroom makes me cringe at Pierre. He looked super classy in his blue body fitted suit and dark blue tie, dark blue shinny Italian shoe, hair a bit messy, and his eyes deadly as usual, his face, Motionless as essential. I was putting on a blue needle heel; a blue gown body hugged gown that made my curve evidence for the public to graze on. My hair is styled up like the one of a ballerina; my makeup is light and straightforward.

I hold onto Pierre's arm, looking uncomfortable at the surrounding. "There are too many people,"

"Don't be afraid, let me take you to some of my colleagues and senior advisor and also to salute them and most especially, I need you to compliment the host, Mr. Emilio," He smiles slightly, trying to make me fit in.

"I'll better not, Pierre; I won't understand your conversation with them; I will humiliate you, and I don't want people to look so lowly of me," I sadly look down on the floor.

"It's OK, at least, you do know how to introduce yourself," I try to make him see reasons why not to take me alone, but it's up to no use.

"No, No, you can go alone, then," I slowly retreat from his side. "I'll wait for you here; you should go now, Pierre, don't worry about me," I smile sheepishly, waiting for him to speak. He looked confused at me before giving up on my foolishness.

"You should go, Pierre; I'll take good care of chocolate flavors on your absent," Brother Hugo, who is looking so handsome in his brown and white suit combination, voiced out from behind Pierre.

"Brother Hugo!" I find myself grinning at his shimmering presence.

"Your Majesty, your Knight in shimmering shining Armor, is waiting to be of grace to fit in your acquaintance," He now a bow at me, then, a wink followed. "Call me Hugo," He insisted.

I giggled. "Broth... I mean, Hugo. You're looking so gorgeous and handsome today," I smiled, forgetting that Pierre stood beside us, staring with a murderous gaze.

"Then I'll leave her to you; I need to greet the host," He rows his eyes sarcastically like a green-eyed man.

"Feel free to go; I can handle Chocolate flavor," Hugo grins at him, making Pierre walk away from us. Hugo turns to me with a toothy grin. "Chocolate flavor, let's go get something delicious to eat,"

I beam back at him, feeling exacted because his energy matches mine so much. "Okay, Hugo,"

A few hours later, Hugo and I are from every bit of food and pastries flavor in the party; then, I remember Pierre. It has already been an hour, and I've not seen his shadow because of Hugo's captivating presence; I forgot about Pierre. I immediately look around, eye-scanning every nook and cranny of the place.

"Looking for Pierre?" Hugo's thick yet sweet voice echoes in my ears. I turn to look at his tall figure beside me. "He's over there," He points out to the party counterparts of the liquor stand. "He's talking to Mademoiselle Toussaint,"

I turned to look at where he was pointing to. A fair-haired lady looking like a model stood very close, too close to Pierre; I don't know what Pierre is telling her that makes her laugh so hard—Slutty fair-haired bitch. I frown as I watch her talk and laugh; I feel the sip of jealous shroud my soul.

I turn to stare at Hugo. "Does she work with you guys in your establishment?" I jealously ask.

Hugo cringed at my question. "Colette Toussaint, she's not a Mexican; she's from Paris, France, she's one of the most highly loved models. She's famous here and also back home,"

He turned to also look at them as he continued. "The Toussaint is vibrant and famous back home; Mademoiselle Colette Toussaint is a princess at home; she's the only child, and her family and Pierre's family are in a very bonded relationship, didn't you know?" He asked, looking surprised.

Pierre is always so cold, so emotionless...but why...why is...he smiling at her? He...

"Don't they look good together? I heard that Mademoiselle Toussaint is making a move on Pierre," Hugo cuts in my thinking conversations.

Instantly, I felt broken. I felt all my hard work wooing him was a total waste of humanity. The waiter who carried wine was passing by with a dog by his side; I picked a glass and gulped down the whole liquid, and immediately, I frowned, looking at how cute the dog was—It's an American Eskimo dog. I pat on its head, playing with her for a few seconds before the waiter walks off, making the cute dog follow.

I exhaled deeply before stomping to where Pierre and Slutty Toussaint were busy standing and being too chatty.

"Pierre!" I called slightly. They both turned to look at me. I immediately enveloped Pierre's arm to mine, always looking from Thief-saint or whatsoever her name is.

"Pierre, is this the girl you adopted? She's so big now," She smiles.

My frown tightened. "Pierre, and who is this, Madam?" I huff at her smiling gesture.

"Ama, don't be rude," He warns with furrowed eyes and a frowning face. I cringed at his facial expressions.

"Pierre, it's alright; she's still young," she unawarely picks on my cheek like four years old. "She is so cute and very soft," I pushed her arm away angrily—she humpback. "Not wrong, your proportion is perfect, and your leg here quite long, but...." She feeds on my appearance and body figure. "I think your breast is too small; if not, you're very fit for all those women big curves you have," she grins.

I frown and stick out my chest to make it firm. She giggles and walks past me to grab Pierre's shoulders. She perked his cheek. "I'll come for you later," She walks away slowly.

The way the glitters and sparkles in Pierre's eyes follow her path as she walks made my soul boil.

"Pierre!" I yelled at him to gain back his missing attention. He flinched, turning around with a tight frown as usual. "Who is she?"

"A friend," He didn't hesitate before replying.

" She's Just a friend, and you're unwilling to see her leave?" I asked, with my jealousy evidence.

"I'm not unwilling; I was just distracted by something," He defends.

"Oh, is that so?" I frowned.

"Of course it is; it's the truth," He said.

"Then, why do I feel like you're more than just a friend?" I yelled slightly at him.

Immediately, he's back to emotionless. His eyebrow tightened with a frown. "....if you mean that Colette and I ain't indeed just ordinary friends," He voiced out.

My heart exploded. My eyes were in mocked horror—Is it possible that Pierre and this woman...have a past together?

"How are you doing, Mister Fitzgerald," A voice called. We both turn to see two couples in their mid-40s smiling at Pierre as they stretch out their hand to honor a handshake.

"Excuse us," Pierre mouthed as the three of them went to the side, leaving me behind as they chitchat.

I turn to leave.

"Ama," Pierre called. Hearing his voice, I turned. "Don't go too far; I'll be with you shortly,"

"Okay!" I walked away.

-

A few minutes later, Pierre looked around, searching for Ama but couldn't get a glimpse of her.

"Where the fuck is she?" He turns, walking end to end, to find her. Not quite long, he spotted her. She was playing with a dog, an American Eskimo.

Pierre's eyes wideout in horror as he hurried to her and dragged her away from the dog. "Stupid girl,"

"Pierre," She called, looking tipsy.

"Are you nuts? What do you think that you're doing? You look drunk. And why the hell are you playing with a dog? Have you forgotten that you have a dog allergy?"

"I'm not drunk, and as you can see...see, I do not have any allergy, just playing with a pretty American Eskimo," Ama hiccups as she was about going to grab the dog again.

"Enough!" Pierre raised his voice at her, grabbing her arm. "I'll play with you when we get home; please, for now, leave the dog alone," Pierre looked so frustrated at her.

"Are we going home now? To Paris, France, or back to the hotel?" Ama's tipsy voice asked.

"The hotel," He voiced out as he carried her outside. The driver is already waiting for them in the parking lot.

"Pierre," She called.

"Yes?" He answers immediately they enter the cab.

"Do you hate me that much?" She asked, resting her head on Pierre's shoulders.

"I don't," He looked shocked at her question.

"I'm feeling itchy!" She cried out as she scratched her body so aggressively. "It's making me uncomfortable,"

"What's wrong?" Pierre looks down at her as she scratches her arm. "Are you okay?"