The doorbell rang at her door, which made her jump, and her heart ran fast, like a horse under starters orders. She took her purse, and opened the door.

It was Ron. He showed a polite wide smile, but when he saw Mary, his jaw dropped and his black thick moustache went up. His dark brown eyes glinted yellow like bear’s before an attack. The girl involuntarily stepped back under his gaze.

“That’s not the dress that Mister Noirson sent you?” he asked, frowning.

It was a brusque greeting, and Mary responded, shooting from the hip.

“It’s none of your business,” she answered with the same haughty voice that she liked hearing Robert use. Like an arrogant sensual queen she stalked passed by Ron. The guard had to follow her, stroking his moustache in confusion.

***

Mary left the building feeling very upbeat. She was a beautiful young woman in love, dressed to kill. She enjoyed the almost fairytale opportunity to show herself off. It made her feel rather sexy to know so many people were gazing at her, as she was regally walking toward the limousine. Jerry was there to welcome her, and he could do nothing but smile with adoration.

In fact, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her décolletage. He forgot about everything except the scented vision before him. He even forgot to open the car door for her. It was a nudge in the ribs from Ron that alerted him to his negligent behavior and the young guard quickly came back to his senses.

Mary got into the car, and was struck with disappointment.

She expected to see Robert sitting patiently, smiling serenely at her, but all she had for company was the oafish Jerry. She felt him leering at her with a cheesy grin from the other side of the plush stretch limo.

“Where is Robert?” Mary asked, upset.

“He’s late,” answered Jerry in a great burst of energy. “Would you like to call him?”

Mary shook her head “no”; she felt offended at being stood up.

“Cool dress, señorita!” The young bodyguard winked.

“Er…” Suddenly feeling there was nothing to be gained by being miserable, she smiled and said, “Thanks!”

“Really, it’s very fetching. Mister Noirson is a lucky guy.”

Mary beamed with pride. Like a purring feline in heat, she stretched her leg out, showing him her pump. “How do you like it?”

He could only stare at her well-defined leg, moving from her ankle to her knee and on up. Careful, buddy, keep it polite! Jerry brought himself down a notch. What a foot! he thought. Cinderella! What I’d give to suck these little toes! But unable to resist looking past her knee, and physically salivating at the shape of things to come as her dress rode upwards, a little voice piped up, Hey buddy, come on, don’t even go there!

“It’s great…” Jerry mumbled. “Just fantastic.”

He did not realize that her showing off was not aimed at him, he just happened to be there. He didn’t even understand her next question.

“You like it?” Mary turned her foot presenting it from different sides. She was so elated to finally be able to show her luxuriant shoes off to someone. She bent forward, not thinking that Jerry could see down her décolleté and could clearly make out the full shape of her breast, almost as if they were fully exposed.

“I’m so worried that they might break,” Mary said, concerned.

“What?” Jerry almost screamed. For one horrible moment he imagined her breasts were about to fall off.

“But I took another pair with me.” Mary smiled. “Better safe than sorry.”

What the hell is she talking about? Jerry thought perplexed.

Mary ran her hands over hips, rearranging her dress, which had shifted rather too far north for modesty. “What do you think, are they sturdy enough?” she continued.

Jerry only stared at her.

Mary carefully raised her leg and placed her foot on her knee. She tugged at the heel of her pump, and Jerry finally guessed that she was talking about her shoes.

Jerry’s phone rang, and he answered. “Yes sir,” he said into the receiver.

“Is it Robert?” Mary whispered to him. Jerry nodded and passed the phone over to her.

“Where are you?” the girl drawled with pitiful voice.

“I’m terribly sorry, my little bunny!” Robert answered. “Don’t worry, I’ve checked, everything is ready. Just do your routine, as usual.”

“I never have done it all by myself. I’m scared.”

“Don’t be! I believe in you, honey. You are a powerful girl, you can do it.”

“But you will show up for sure?”

“Yes, I promise! I have to run, my sweetheart! See you soon!” He hung up.

Mary sighed. The limousine stopped, and Jerry helped Mary out.

She saw some reporters and they came swarming around her, taking pictures, asking for details. The bright young girl in full bloom felt like a superstar.

Her nervousness disappeared and as far s she was concerned her guards no longer existed. It was her stage only. As per instructions, she said a few sentences about the orphanage and her gymnastics team, and finished; “For more information, please visit our website.” The preliminaries dealt with, she glided up to the entrance.

Inside the building, a hostess courteously greeted Mary, and a servant showed her to a desk, where she placed her brochures along with the others. He accompanied her to the reserved place, then left.

Thoroughly, she arranged the promotional material on the table, and pinned her posters on the display stand.

A few curious guests moved in for a closer look.

Mary routinely answered all the usual questions about the team, and the orphanage and its gymnastic activities and how it benefited the kids and the community. All the while, she was distributing the promotional cards with a lovely warm smile radiating from her inspired face.

“Oh, look how adorable this rosary is!” Praised a middle-aged lady, wearing a billowing golden yellow dress. She took one of the hand-made artifacts for a closer look.

On seeing an oncoming reporter, so as not to miss a trick, she struck an elegant pose and wrote a cheque. Now the camera was forthcoming, so she showed the evidence of a generous contribution to the reporter, who then decided it was worth taking her picture before she put the cheque in the donation box.

“God Bless you!” said Mary. “Our girls are making these as part of our campaign,” she explained. “Each rosary is unique.”

“Nice, very nice.” The lady nodded. She bent toward the girl and added almost inaudibly; “Let me tell you, dear, your dress is also unique.”

“I know!” Mary smiled with pleasure, taking it as a compliment, not seeing the woman’s eyes rolling when she turned and looked disapproving at her husband. Mary’s heart was singing. Choking on the euphoria of such a positive comment, the girl slowly sucked in a deep lungful of air to regain her composure.

Soon the attention of everybody was drawn away from her to other newcomers.

“Now I can relax,” Mary mumbled, sitting down, elegantly posed on the chair.

She looked around with a burning, youthful curiosity. She had attended such parties before, but only as a performer.

How the other half lives, she mused, taking in the luxuriant scene.

It all seemed busier than it really was. Decorated with various plants and assorted flowers, all a differing shade of yellow, the reception area in which she was seated was surprisingly small.

Numerous sponsors’ logos were on display everywhere. Spokesmen and women gushed eloquently about what their companies were and weren’t doing to change the lot of the world’s less fortunate. It was a good advert for the organizers; everybody was winning that night.

Aside from the displays, Mary adored a small orchestra, playing soft romantic background music. The tender sounds flowed over the highbrow proceedings, adding to the impression of a fairytale.

Men in tuxedos, and women in evening dresses in assorted restrained colors were walking around, stopping at tables, sounding interested before moving on to mingle and pose. The groups of guests were flitting around like figures in a golden light brown kaleidoscope.

Suddenly, Mary noticed a thirty-something brunette in a figure-hugging neutral colored gown, staring at her, and Mary wondered; Why such an unfriendly look?

A man, in his sixties, stubby yet imposing and dignified came to her table. Mary stood up, and smiled friendly.

A reporter had followed him and was hovering, expectant.

The elderly man glanced at him with visible displeasure, sighed and shoved some bills into the donation box. Feeling that something was awry, Mary kept silent, holding her welcoming expression.

The reporter moved on to another group of circulating guests, and the man turned to Mary.

“Miss Jablonskaia, if I’m not mistaken?” he asked the perplexed girl, who nodded, unsure how else to reply.

“Do you know that your dating Mister Noirson could cause some trouble?” he said unexpectedly. Mary’s heart stopped for a second.

“I… I don’t understand…” she managed to squeeze out finally.

“Too bad.” Not bothering to explain a thing, he left, and Mary’s shoulders visibly drooped under the weight of such a shock.

What did he mean? she was thinking, panicking. Who is he? How does he know about us? What kind of trouble? For Robert? Oh dear God, no! Or for me? I don’t care about that. I’m not afraid. She hesitated. Or am I? Oh Robert, where are you? I so need your support right now…

“Nice dress.” Mary heard an irritated female voice, and lifted her head. It was the same “gazing” lady that Mary had spotted before. Now she was standing next to the table, still drilling into the girl’s heart with obvious anger in her eyes.

“I thought it was the only one,” the lady said. “But as I remember it was taupe.”

How does she know about the dress? Mary wondered.

“You are right,” she answered calmly. “But you know, I can’t actually afford to buy a collection dress.”

“But your lover surely can,” the lady said, smiling. She saw Mary’s eyes widen. “So, he ordered a copy, didn’t he? Who chose that ugly color? It matches your mane about as well as an omelet goes with green onion!”

“I would never have imagined that a respectable woman like you could have such bad manners.” Mary replied, puzzled.

“Oh, cute, and while we are talking manners, look who’s talking!” The lady quietly laughed. “You’re the sophisticated one who dressed up in screaming-green on the pastel themed party! In all the invitations it said clearly about the dress code!”

Now Mary was stricken. She looked around, and to her horror she realized that the lady was absolutely right. It was like beige heaven for as far as the eye could see, and only she, Maria Jablonskaia, debutante elect, was wearing a brightly colored outfit.

“Why?” the lady continued scornfully. “Is it a rebellious streak in you, or are you just plain illiterate? If you didn’t know the meaning the word ‘pastel’, why didn’t you ask your lover? By the way, where is Robert?” Her smile remained but the tone of her voice was changing. “I guess, he’s probably ashamed to show up with such brilliant under age baby gem like you. How much are you charging him per hour for your services, by the way?”

Mary was unable to say a thing with spasm seizing her throat.

“I’m here on my own,” she barely managed to utter. “I’m not an escort, either, if that’s what you are insinuating. I am twenty-one already, and I’m here to present my team.”

“And you have done a pretty bad job of that, you poor incompetent thing,” the lady said, moving away.

Mary almost fell onto her chair. A passing waiter offered her a cocktail, and she mechanically took it.

“Are you all right?” The hostess of the event approached Mary. “Did Laura offend you? She’s a little cranky today. She badly wanted to buy a dress, the very same designer dress that you’re wearing, in fact. But someone had already bought it. She was even ready to order a copy, just so she could be the first one to show up in it. But you trumped her plans.”

“I’m sorry, it seems to have upset her so much,” Mary mumbled, thinking; I can only imagine their shock if they knew that it IS the original dress!

Mary got up and smiled. “I’m okay, thank you.”

The hostess nodded and headed off to mingle and mix with some of the other guests.

“Why is such a sweet girl looking so upset?” Mary looked up and studied the speaker, a male, middle aged, not very tall, (which is what she liked in a man) thin and slender, clean-shaven, with brown hair and light blue eyes.

He browsed the orphanage’s promotional material, then looked at her with a friendly smile.

“Never mind, sorry,” Mary said politely, at the same time thinking in a less respectful way, He’s not a wealthy person for sure. Look at his tux! I bet he rented it.

“If I visit you on campus,” the man continued shyly. “Can I cheer you up, or is it prohibited?”

Oh no, poor man! Mary thought with tender pity. He likes me!

“It’s not prohibited,” she answered softly. “But it’s pointless.”

“I’m taking that as a ‘no’. Your heart is otherwise occupied, am I right?”

“You are.”

“So, these rumors are true, I suppose,” he said, ready to leave, but Mary clutched his hand.

“Look, please! I beg you, tell me, what do you mean? I have already had a few hints blasted at me, but I want to know what’s going on!”

“Don’t you read the press?” he wondered. He took out his wallet, and blushing like a girl, showed Mary a picture. It had obviously been cut from some magazine or newspaper. Mary saw a snapshot of herself, smiling broadly. Her pose looked a little bit strange. Suddenly she guessed it was because her head was resting on Robert’s shoulder, but the man had cut him off at the neck so as to focus on her.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, returning the picture. Deep in thought she did not notice that, when the man left, another woman had descended and was standing at her table.

Redheaded, wearing a soft-orange dress, the woman resembled a vixen.

“The color suits you…” she dropped casually.

“Really?” Mary mechanically replied.

“Yeah, you look like a crocodile,” the woman hissed, keeping her polite smile fixed in position. “And as for your skin… Never heard of lotion? It works wonders. I use it on my leather handbag.”

“Say what you want,” Mary snapped back. “At least men like my skin natural.”

“Says who? Robert, or all your other clients? It’s actually funny how you think you can mean anything to him. You should see the line of poor beauties he left behind before he bagged you.”

“Perhaps, you are one of them, eh?” Mary said with nice demonstratively naïve smile.

“Do you have a problem with that?” the woman asked haughtily.

“Nope, it’s your problem, I suppose,” Mary threw the reply back in the same manner as it had been delivered.

“Stupid frog!” mumbled the redheaded as she strode away.

What a day! Mary thought, puffing out her cheeks. Now I’m actually rather glad that Robert is not here at the moment. At least I get to figure out the situation for myself.

“Oh, I expected a cat fight!” A young man, tall and athletic drew closer, and leered at Mary. “I would never have expected a monastery to be hiding such a gem. You are a real emerald. I’m simply charmed.”

“It’s not what you said the last time,” Mary retorted, catching him on the back foot. “I know you,” the girl explained, moving in for the kill. “Last month you attended an event where our team performed a show. I am the leading girl.”

“Oh, so that insignificant gymnast was you?”

His disparaging comment pulled Mary up short, temporarily. But when he made his next remark, she blushed, shocked at his words.

“Right, that explains why I didn’t recognize you now all tarted up to the nines! How lucky Mister Noirson is having such a beautiful courtesan. I can only imagine all these different ways that you’ve done the splits with Mister Noirson to get such a pretty party dress out of him.”

Despite her red cheeks, he did not intimidate Mary; she knew what he was like.

“I suggest you keep your smutty thoughts to yourself and go take a hike to the bathroom to relieve your tensions.”

“It’s not wise to talk with a potential sponsor like that,” the young man replied, frowning.

“Sponsor! Give me a break!” Mary chuckled. “Your cheque has been returned due to insufficient funds. If you don’t have money, why pretend that you do? To impress people?”

The man scurried off in silence. Mary called a waiter over and took another cocktail.