Clara and I had to cancel our outing since I was a billionaire's wife and needed a whole day to make arrangements for a dinner that was to be by 8 pm. There was no time to spend with Clara.
My personal make up artiste and stylist were over at the apartment around 6:30 pm, preparing my look for the dinner. It seem to be a huge event and no amount of preparation could make me ready.
At exactly 7:30 pm, Richard was back to pick me up. With no compliment and appraisal of my look by my husband, off we went to the dinner.
It looked like a BTS concert with the crowd flowing like an ocean. Most particularly the reporters.
I held Richard's arm with my left hand, and my right hand held my flowing gown up, just a little above my ankle, walking elegantly through the red carpet with multiple flashlights blinding my sight making me squint my eyes a little.
"Are you alright?" he whispered as if he cared. "Yes, I am," I replied sheepishly.
