The black straps of my heels dug into my flesh, causing me to constantly tug at it while walking. The strapless black dress clung to my body like a second skin, I looked like a prostitute who got a bonus and decided to go shopping. Males whistled and went wild in the streets, asking me if I want to see if the rugs match the drapes. My only option was to pretend that I was deaf, when a guy approached me I would just create random signs.
When I entered the building, Gregory- the humble servant that has been serving this company for the past fifteen years- gladly gave me some decent looks and walked me to the rest of the people. Men in suits and woman in cocktail dresses filled the room. A martini was placed in my hand and a hand on my back, and so the show began.
I smiled and greeted the wealthy specimens and soon found myself at the back of the room, hiding in the shadows as always. I didn't belong here, I needed to be here but if it was up to me then I'd be at home, sitting on the couch and watching Glee.
Gregory found me in the back, a sad smile appeared on his lips. The always-there-dimples didn't even slightly show. He took the empty glass from my hands and set it on the small glass table next to us, that table must have cost a fortune.
"You should start mixing with the people here, Angela" he slowly said while gesturing to them.
I shook my head, feeling my throat clog up with anxiety already. "They're snobby and talk about different cheese, I only know one type and that's the type you put on pizza and sandwiches."
"You get a large variety of cheeses" he commented. "But you're good with books, they read books" Gregory scratched his head. "I think."
"They do and it's called 'Being a snobby rich bastard 101', It's self help. I hate self help" I started to walk towards the bar, Gregory following suit behind me. "I just don't think I'd do well with one of them" I said to him.
"And why is that?" he asked.
I showed tow fingers to the bar tender and he got the usual, two double shot martinis. "Because they're different." I leaned over and got the glasses, when I turned around to give Gregory one of the glasses I saw him standing somewhere else, assisting an old lady with the stairs.
Instead of Gregory's bald head and light eyebrows, a man with dark brown hair and stubble greeted me. I knew him, he came to this event every year for the past five years, and I still didn't know his name. I just knew that he was one of our most valued clients and if he tells you to kill your grandmother, you kill your grandmother without batting an eyelash.
"I'm sorry, but your name is?" he asked with a cute grin at the end.
My stomach turned, I could taste last week's pepperoni pizza coming back for round two. "A-Angela" I burped and clamped my hand over my mouth, the pizza now getting ready to blast off. Mr. Money eyed me strangely.
10, 9, 8, "I'm sorry"7, 6, 5,"I'm not feeling so well." 4, "I have to-" I turned on my heel, ready to run but my feet gave in and I fell. 3.. I forced myself to stand up... 2, I turned around and saw him inching closer to me.. 1, I puked.
My vomit stretched across his grey suit, the liquids dripping onto his shoes. I clamped my hand against my mouth again, forcing it to stay there and this time I ran- and I ran fast. My heels clicked and clacked against the tiles. The men's bathroom was first, my instinct drove me to it. I kicked the door open and fell on my knees by the first toilet I saw. My stomach emptied itself, I heaved and heaved after a while. Two hands were on my shoulders, it held my hair out of my face too but it was just too late for that. Chunks of vomit clung to my hair.
"Oh God" I heaved. I looked behind me and Gregory stood there, worry stitching his brows together. "Take me home, please" I begged. Gregory just offered a sad smile and stood up. My hair fell back in place and hung under me..
The door opened again and footsteps were heard. I knew it wasn't Gregory, but someone else. gentle hands took mine and helped me up. Mr. Money stood there, looking like he cares.. "Let's go" he whispered. I held onto his jacket for support, once I was in his car my eyes fluttered.
"Where do you live?" he asked.
"In my house" I replied. My eyes closed.
Sleep took over and I was out like a light.
A/N: soooo I did that, what do you think? I'm new to writing and I don't know how the hell to write prologues. So there ya go, :D
GOODBAI <3
YOU ARE READING
Mr Money
Romance#Badassreads He's the guy Bruno Mars thought about when he wrote Billionaire. He is on the cover of magazines, he did smile next to Oprah and he shook hands with the queen. He goes to different cities every week, every day. His name is in shining l...
