Sealed With a Kiss

Four

IV: Social Outing

WORD OF MY CHARITY GALA HAD GOTTEN OUT and now everyone who was anyone, at least according to my event planner, was itching for an invite.

It bothered me at first that people were more preoccupied with attending just so they could catch a wiff of gossip about me rather than for the cause I was sponsoring, but Abigail, my event planner, convinced me that it didn't matter why they came if they donated to help others.

Out of courtesy, I had mailed an invitation to the Richmonds. I didn't expect them to come, but it would have seemed childish not to extend an olive branch at least for the good of the charity in mind. It was in honour of their late family member after all.

The gala was scheduled to be for tonight, and as far as I knew the venue was looking spectacular. I trusted Abbigail with all the details of the event, while I focused on the business side of things. I even let her chose my dress for the night.

It was bright red (which at first I though would contrast unflatteringly with my hair but ended up complimenting it) strapless with peplum accents on the sides. The dress looked quite simple, until I put it on and realized I could hardly move. It had a hazardously straight hem that constricted my legs and only allowed me to take small, baby steps.

"I look ridiculous!" I whined. Remy laughed and shook her head. "You look beautiful...just make sure you take your time going up and down stairs."

"You're not helping!" I took an experimental step forward but the feeling was foreign and immensely uncomfortable.  

"Pops, you look stunning. No pain no gain right? And it's Dior Couture; it's supposed to be uncomfortable!"

"If you say so," I responded uncertainly. After clipping Mina's diamond pendant around my neck, I took the clutch purse Abbigail bought to match the dress and (slowly) made my way out the door to the car. Mathew was driving me to where the gala was taking place, and after carefully helping me into the backseat, proceeded to drive to The Ritz-Carlton hotel. 

"Thank you," I said in a nervous voice as Mathew took my hand and eased me out of the car. In an instant, the flash of what seemed like hundreds of cameras assaulted me. I blinked past the blinding light and gave a small, hesitant smile. Walking forward as fast as the dress would allow, I stopped in the middle and smiled at the paparazzi when I heard my name. "Poppy! Poppy over here!" 

"Poppy, who are you wearing tonight?" I looked confused for a second before I realized she was asking about my dress. Remembering that Remy had mentioned it earlier, I said, "Dior."

After answering a few harmless questions, mainly regarding my outfit and the charity, I waved goodbye to them all and walked inside the hotel. The ballroom looked like something out of a fairy-tale. Abbigail had insisted on a Vagas theme and set up poker tables and slot machines. 

Many people came up to me througout the night, and I tried my very best to keep a smile plastered to my face as I spoke of the Foundation and our cause. Everyone looked as though they were enjoying themselves, and I was grateful to Abbigail for knowing just what to do. 

"So you're the infamous Poppy White," a sultry voice said behind me. I spun around and came face to face with a young girl, maybe of fifteen years of age. My eyebrows raised at the sight of her with champaigne glass in her hands. "The Richmond Fortune Thief."

She looked about to take a sip of her glass when it was suddenly yanked out of her hand. "Seriously Hannah? What did I say about the bubbly?"

I watched in amusement as the girl was repremanded by a tall, beautiful woman. We looked about the same age, but she carried herself with infinately more confidence than I. She wore a stunning, racy navy-blue number that fit her like a glove. "Sorry, was she bothering you?"