Paris, France.
Above is a picture of Annika Twala🤎
Being married to a billionaire oil magnate with two kids was one thing she could never trade anything for.
Yet, one thing Toke promised herself, is to always put herself first, and she did. With George off to Singapore for work and her twins at her parents house, Toke decided to go on a vacation all by herself like she always did, since she born into the Ajirotutu and Salami's lineage.
Every April 1, the L'Herme-Célines, one of France's great banking families would host Le Bal du Rosé, a sumptuous ball that was the highlight of the spring social season.
This year, as Toke entered the arched passageway leading into the L'Herme-Célines' splendid hôtel particulier on Île Saint Louis, she was handed a delicate sprig of flowers by a footman in smart black-and-gold livery.
"It's after Charles X, you know. He would present lilies of the valley to all the ladies at Fontainebleau every April Day," a woman wearing a tiara explained to her as they emerged into the courtyard where hundreds of miniature eighteenth-century hot-air balloons floated among the topiaries.
Toke barely had time to take in the delightful sight when the Vicomtesse Olivia de L'Herme-Célines pounced on her.
"Oh chérie, I'm so glad you could make it," Olivia effused, greeting Astrid with quadruple cheek kisses.
"My goodness, is that linen? Only you could get away with wearing a simple linen dress to a ball, dear Toke!" The hostess laughed, admiring the delicate Grecian folds of Toke's buttercup gown.
"Wait a minute ...Oh là là is this an original Madame Grès?" Olivia asked, realizing that she had seen a similar dress at the Musée Galliera.
"From her early period," Toke replied, almost embarrassed to have been found out.
"But of course. My goodness, Toke, you've outdone yourself once again. How on earth did you get your hands on an early Grès?" Olivia asked in awe.
Recovering herself, she whispered, "I hope you don't mind, but I have put you next to Timothée. He is being a beast tonight, as he thinks I am still fucking the Croatian. You are the only person I can trust next to him at dinner. But at least you'll have Céline on your left."
"Don't worry about me. I always enjoy catching up with your husband, and it will be a treat to sit next to Céline I just saw his new film the other day."
"Wasn't it a pretentious bore? Hated the black-and-white, but at least Céline looked edible with his clothes off. Anyway, thank you for being my savior. Are you sure you have to leave tomorrow?" the hostess asked with a pout.
"I've been gone almost two weeks! I'm afraid my son and daughter will forget who I am if I stay one more day," Toke answered as she was ushered along into the grand foyer, where Olivia's mother-in-law, the Comtesse Annabelle de L'Herme-Céline, presided over the receiving line.
Annabelle let out a small gasp when she caught sight of Toke. "Toke, quelle surprise ma chèrie, ça fait longtemps! How are you my darling?" She said in her French accent.
"Well, I wasn't sure that I would be able to attend until the last minute," Toke said apologetically, smiling at the stiff-looking grande dame standing beside Comtesse Annabelle. The woman did not smile back.
Rather, she tilted her head ever so slightly as if appraising every inch of Toke, the gigantic emerald earrings fastened to her long earlobes swaying precariously.
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