"Hate it, hate it, hate it, despise it—what even is that swirl at that bottom of that pillar? It looks obscene."
"I think it's a fleur-de-lis." Dominico held up another invitation card for my approval and I stopped scrutinising the ugly mess of the previous card to frown at it. Who even put polka dots on an invitation card? This was not a clown party, it was a mobster event.
"Dom, please show me something good. We've been planning for two weeks and I'm not any closer to feeling ready for this party than I did when I thought of it." I chased the straw of my Cuba libre with my tongue while bringing my sunglasses back down from my forehead.
"In all fairness, it's impossible to feel ready for a spontaneously planned party. It's a miracle the printers I hired had all these invitation samples ready in time." With a deep sigh, Dom shuffled the invitations he had and held a random one up for me to examine.
