You Would Never Know

II | Friends, and Friends

I showered, did my hair and makeup, ate breakfast, almost got disowned by Mamma, and received a bouquet of peonies, which had a note that said, "Blue sapphires or rubies? White gold or yellow gold? Tell me tomorrow."

Straight to the point, as expected from him, and it doesn't even have his name written on it; should I play dumb and pretend I don't know who this is from?

I shouldn't even think about it; Diana would have my head in no time.

Not even a moment passed before that enraged redhead started calling me. I had no intention of answering because she's scarily hyper in the morning, and I won't deal with that.

I got dressed in a loose black suit and dark green backless velvet loafers, grabbed a handbag that matched it, and then stacked some more gold jewelry on top of the rest. And then I was almost ready to dump all my trauma in one sitting with Diana; I just had to catch up on the series currently playing on my phone.

There it goes, ringing again. I'm sure I had a hundred missed calls. I picked up after debating if I should block her or not and said, "Stop calling like an obsessive ex; I'll reach you in half an hour."

Ignoring the sassy remarks, I ended the call. Knowing I wouldn't reach her in half an hour, I started spraying my perfume.

I won't even worry about being late because one thing's for sure: when she schedules the time we're supposed to arrive, it's actually the time she wakes up.

An hour later, I was rushing out of the house to reach an impatient human being.

I went to the garage to take my car out and hit the road with music blasting to set the mood.

I arrived at my destination and spent a significant amount of time attempting to parallel park but failing miserably. I had to call Diana to help me.

Diana, my supposed knight in shining armor, worsened the situation by almost crashing the beauty, but a beautiful gray-haired lady named Esmeralda came in to help, and immediately we seemed to click; one thing led to another, and we were locking arms as we dragged her with us to the bar to grab a few drinks.

Well, not a few, but enough that we can still hiccup words out with her.

After the oversharing activity, I called Pablo to pick me up, and I got scolded for it, but a glare shut him up. I was deserving of a bit of fun.

That haze after a good time made me grateful to be back where I belonged.

It's been awhile since I've last gone out without the purpose of work or other stressful life factors.

Work consumed me all day, every day, just like now. Not once did I raise my head from the files in front of me, and I did feel overworked after days of constant working, but for some reason, I feel sedated.

It's not the first time I've done this because there's a type of comfort only work can give you, even if it's staring at graphic photographs from time to time or endless contracts that I don't see the point of. But it comes with the job.

My job wasn't ideal for the majority, and I didn't bother to make it because it was impossible.

Giovanni doesn't seem to give up, as he is still pestering me about how I'm supposed to be planning and preparing for the wedding instead of "locking myself in my office."

All of that is over with, well, mostly, but enough of it is done for me to not worry, and the rest could be dealt with during this short duration.

"Recheck all the files from 'A' to 'K'. I think there's an error in the organization." No, there aren't.