James asked,"Are you ready?" I shook my head, my face and palms sweating.
"Are you nervous? You'll ruin your makeup," James teased, producing a handkerchief from his pocket to gently dab my face. I took the handkerchief from him, saying,
"I can do it myself."
He reassured me, "They're just ordinary people like you. If you feel uncomfortable, let me know, and we'll leave." I was touched by his consideration.
As we entered the grand hall, I was awestruck by the opulent decorations. James chuckled at my reaction, and I felt a bit self-conscious. We walked towards the flower arrangements, and I couldn't help but admire their beauty and fragrance.
James smiled, saying, "Yeah, they're all real."
I replied "I wished I could take some home.
James chuckled "I'd go find my own date then" James jokingly said, excusing himself to make a call leaving me to enjoy the flowers.
" Stay where you are and be careful." James said before leaving.
After he left, a waiter offered me a drink, and I opted for a mocktail.
I finished my phone call, ensuring that the arrangements would be perfect for the evening. As I turned around, I was greeted by Gloria's familiar voice saying,
"Hi, Handsome." I wasn't surprised to see her, given her own success.
Gloria approached James, placing her hand on his chest and rubbing it seductively.
"You should be happy to have me, James. I'm independent, wealthy, and gorgeous. Why settle for that...nobody?" she said, her voice dripping with disdain.
I intervened, grabbing her hands and squeezing them firmly.
"You've been warned, Gloria. Don't speak about Sandra like that again. One more insult, and you'll regret it." I released her, but she persisted, wrapping her arms around me.
"You're even more attractive when you're angry, James. We could be a power couple, taking the market by storm."
Just then, a voice pierced through the noise, shouting
"James! James!"
We scanned the crowd, and I wondered if it was Sandra.
The voice grew louder, "James! Hey! James!" I moved closer to the source, and there she was, standing on a table, waving at me with a glass in hand.
"James! Hi, I've been looking for you!" Sandra exclaimed, jumping and waving her hands as she stood on the table. The crowd murmured, and some laughed as they glanced at James.
James approached Sandra. "Come down," he said.
"Why did you leave?" Sandra asked, still shouting.
"Sandra, please come down from the table before you hurt yourself," James urged.
"Maybe I want to hurt myself," Sandra replied.
"Are you drunk?" James asked.
"Well, I would have said yes, but the waiter gave me a mocktail, not a cocktail, so no," Sandra said with a giggle.
"Sandra, please come down," James repeated.
"No! I want to meet everybody, and this is the fastest way to do it. Hi, everybody!" Sandra shouted, waving at the crowd as she twirled.
"Hi, aggressive lady!" she said, waving at Gloria.
"Oh, hi Cassie, I thought you wouldn't be here," Sandra said.
"Where?" James asked, looking around.
I felt a pang of concern when she mentioned Cassie cause she's not supposed to be around . But then I wondered, why would Sandra even mention Cassie's name?
Sandra was about to point in Cassie's direction, but she suddenly passed out and fell. James caught her just in time.
"I told you to get down, and now you almost hurt yourself," James said, relieved.
"But you, my Superman, are always there to save me," Sandra said in a sleepy and drunken state, pinching James' cheeks.
James took Sandra away from the crowd and into one of the hotel's rooms, a luxurious Presidential suite.
"How did you get drunk?" James asked, still trying to understand. "I told you to stay where you are, and you don't know anything about parties. Why did you take something without knowing what it was?"
But James was talking to someone who was no longer responsive, having drifted off into a dreamland.
"She doesn't smell like alcohol, which means she didn't drink it. Then how did she get drunk?" James wondered, puzzled.
Downstairs, Gloria reveled in Sandra's embarrassing behavior, hoping it would diminish James' interest in her. Her best friend, Erica, approached her, asking,
"Who was that crazy lady James brought to the party?"
Gloria sneered, "A gold-digging whore he picked up from the streets." She sipped her wine, her expression twisted in a malicious smile.
Erica raised an eyebrow, "From the streets? That girl doesn't look poor. Are you sure she's who you think she is?"
Gloria's smile faltered, and she slammed her glass on the floor, drawing everyone's attention. She forced a smile, stepped away from the broken glass, and summoned a waiter to clean up the mess. Then, she dragged Erica to a corner, hissing,
"James belongs to me. Don't praise his little toys, just mind your business and support me when he misbehaves."
As I laid Sandra on the bed, I couldn't help but admire her beauty. I had never been one to prioritize physical appearance, but Sandra had captivated me. I gently brushed strands of hair from her face, careful not to wake her. But she stirred, holding my arm, and whispered,
"Damola." My anger flared, and I tried to shake her off, but she held tight, pulling me on top of her.
"I have a feeling you hate me right now," she said, stroking my face. I remained silent, aware that she was under the influence.
"I love you," she whispered, and my eyes widened in shock. It pained me to hear those words meant for someone else. Sandra sat up, and I realized her feelings for Damola ran deeper than I had thought.
"I never want to picture myself with anyone else but you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I tried to intervene, stuttering, "S-Sandra," but she silenced me with a finger on my lips.
"I'll do the talking today," she said, leaning in to kiss me.