I hadn’t finished drifting off when suddenly, I felt a shove and splash — someone spilled the contents of their glass on me. The wine spilled over, matching the color of my dress, but I was still soaked, so that didn’t comfort me. I must have daydreamed too much because suddenly, I heard a very familiar voice:
— Is that you? — he asked in English, extending a nice piece of fabric towards me.
“Probably worth more than my shoes,” I thought.
I finally looked up and… Oh Holy Merilyn! Not this! Enough of meetings for today. A tall, stately blonde was staring at me. His hair was awkwardly tousled, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at several upper buttons. His pale skin shimmered slightly, highlighting his gray eyes that sparkled with sincere interest. Everything had turned too quickly to bad. Why did the heavens send him my way?!
I took a deep breath. I had seen this guy at almost every party Ella dragged me to. I didn’t know who he was or what his name was, and he didn’t know anything about me. We had exchanged glances more than once, but I wasn't one of those girls who sought a simple prey, called a man. I didn’t need that, and I wasn't rolling out the red carpet for every representative of the opposite sex, and honestly, I barely interacted with his kind.
— Well, I suppose that must be me! — I snatched the handkerchief from his hand, trying in any way to rectify the situation with my dress. The enthusiasm in my voice was clearly less than the desire to engage with the man.
— Good to see you again, — his lips gradually spread into a smile.
— I can’t say the same about you, — Merlin, that jerk is still here, and while I'm diligently wiping the wine stain, I’ve run out of vocabulary.
— What are you here for? — the question was unexpected. Indeed, what can one do at a party?
— Just relaxing, — I demonstratively waved my hands, which had become a habit.
— You don’t seem like you're really relaxing. More like you want to crawl over the rail, jump from the third floor and run until you reach a deserted island, — the guy’s smile widened, and I noticed dimples. Something flipped inside me. But… the arrogant blonde was telling the truth; I didn’t want to be here, especially now and especially in his company. No matter what, I wouldn’t let anyone treat me that way, — Oh! And sorry about the dress, give me your card number, and I’ll send you money for dry cleaning or you can even buy a new one.
— In what sense? — I fumed. — That dress doesn't exist anymore; it's my own design! — so he struck a nerve…
— O-o-o, so you’re a clothing designer, unexpectedly. Then you can make adjustments to your design since that dress looks much more impressive on you when it’s wet, — he narrowed his eyes and began nodding.
— I’ll definitely note that for the future; any other suggestions? — my anger knew no bounds. What hypocrisy! How could he say that after ruining my mood and dress?
— What’s your name? — he changed the subject. — I never managed to find that out before. — I apologize, I really have to go, — that was all I could think of to shake off this peacock. Remember this, and never, ever learn from me this life hack because it obviously doesn’t work.
I didn’t even check the time. The party was in full swing, but I no longer wanted to be there.
— Have a good evening, — I turned on my heels and headed towards the door that led to the hall, looking for Elizabeth.
— Wait! — he called after me. I stopped and turned my head, — You still haven’t told me your name.
— Cinderella, — it slipped out, and I unexpectedly allowed myself to smile, — like a princess, — I emphasized the last word.
— How about your phone number, Cinderella? — it seemed the blonde also enjoyed this little mini-episode. So I decided to play along:
— The prince found his Cinderella, so you give it a try. One week is enough? Then I might think about giving you my number, — I smiled wider, turned around, and walked away. I didn’t even dwell on thoughts that he might find me. No matter what, there was no way he’d track me down in a week in Milan. But still, I regretted telling him that I was a designer.
Gods, how hard it was to find Ella, especially when she was so needed. After passing through seven circles of hell, I made it to my blonde. She was in conversation with the hostess.
— Hi, Sarah, how’s it going? — I asked, rather rudely interrupting their conversation.
— Hi, very well, but you look a bit flustered, — the girl replied, pointing a finger at me.
— Never mind, — I waved my hand, — can I ask you something? — and without waiting for an answer, I continued. — If anyone asks about me or Ella, don’t say anything, okay?
Sarah nodded, looking puzzled.
— I’ll tell you everything later, — I turned back to Elizabeth. — But right now, we’re leaving.
— Why? Isn’t it too early yet? — she began to argue. She clearly didn’t like my sudden appearance.
— Just come on, please, — this was more like a plea than a request. — I’m not ready for another senseless night; I need to sleep.
— Well, okay, okay. Goodbye, Sarah.
— Goodbye, and sorry for leaving your party like this again, — I repeated.
— It’s fine, I’m actually grateful you joined, so don’t worry about it. Goodnight, don’t forget to text me later, — we headed toward the exit.
This time, I managed to catch a taxi quite quickly. On the way home, we didn’t talk.
— Are you staying with me? — I wanted to somehow make up for my guilt. A good series and sweets in the top drawer of the kitchen could help with that.
— Mhm, — Ella smiled a little. The evening was wonderful.
