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"Keep your heels, head and standards high."
Coco Channel
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Jules

After changing into camera-suitable clothes, I leave Margot and Metisha in my room to go attend to the reporters. But before I could make it to the narrow hallway that led outside, something catches my eye at the fireplace. I retract my steps only to see that I was wrong.

It isn't something but in fact, someone. A Greek-god-built, raven-haired someone to be precise.

Right there, in front of the dark and empty fireplace is Terrence, reclined in the wooden rocking chair. From the side profile of his face, I can see that he has his eyes closed, his dark, long lashes almost reaching his cheekbone. Once, he brings his tongue out to wet his lips and the picture of that same tongue doing things to my body flashes through my mind.

"You like what you see," he suddenly says in a very confident tone, his eyes still closed. As I am wearing flat shoes that make no sound whatsoever, I can't help but wonder how he became aware of my presence. Then, with a slight shake of the head, he continues, "but you don't want it."

I let out a sigh I hope sounds exasperated. "I thought I asked you to leave."

His eyes fly open all of a sudden and he pushes up from the chair. My eyes drift towards his incredibly long legs as he walks towards me.

Ugh! Why does he have to have legs that look like they belong on the runway by the way?

Isn't the drop-dead gorgeous body enough?

He stops right in front of me and gives me a smile that seems to say "I know exactly what is going on in that pretty head of yours"

All of a sudden, his smile is gone and replaced by a somewhat sad expression.

"I couldn't," he says softly. Like as if scared I would rebuff him, he gently reaches for my fingers. I detect a look of relief when I do nothing but stare at him as he tenderly strokes them with his thumb. "What you said earlier wasn't nice and I wish I could say I don't ever want to see you again. Call me stupid or naive, but I am not leaving until you tell me that what happened between us last night wasn't just a one-night stand."

I stay silent for a moment, thinking of what to say. However, my late grandfather's words echo in my head.

There are times when something is right for you but not the right time for you to have it.

My mind made up, I allow myself to, for a few seconds, look at his face: that face which the most creative angels in heaven had spent hours and hours creating. Because my next words will, without an ounce of doubt, mark the end of us having any kind of contact whatsoever.

I sigh again, this time around, it came out as resigned. With my subconscious yelling 'Liar, liar, pants on fire', I speak, "I will only say one thing as I have other things to do. But I do hope it conveys my message clearly;" I gulp inwardly and then, looking into his eyes, I lie, "You are not special. Not to me."

Without as much as a glance, I detach my fingers from his hold and briskly walk out of the sitting room and through the hallway to attend to humans who have made nosey parking their daily business and source of income.

With three barrel-chested bodyguards flanking me, I open the large golden gate that leads out of my abode and stepped out.

Immediately, individuals of both sex in varying hues of business suits rush towards me. I experience a moment of panic at the castigating look some of them spot.

Before they could get too close for comfort, the guards step forward, thereby, serving as a barricade between them and me.

"Miss. Lee, is it true that you're having an affair with the very married Jace ?"

I slightly turn to look at the person who just asked that rude question even though I already recognized the voice to be that  of Paul Wayne aka Shrewd Shorty.

As usual, his stuck-at-thirteen body is stuffed in an ugly-looking suit the colour of a baby's poo and his feet that might as well belong to an eight year old is crammed into shoes the colour of mud.

His stylist must hate him as much as I do.

Realizing he's gotten my attention, his devilish face which is filled with acnes of all sizes, by the way, morphs into a pompous grin.

I swear there are times I think that guy has got something against my existence.

But it's cool. Cause the feeling is very mutual.

I am about to give Shrewd Shorty a scalding response that would have surely brought me bad publicity, when an orange Chevrolet Camaro skids to a stop a few paces behind the reporters.

Everyone's attention gets drawn to the sexy car as a young lady with skin as pale as a vampire's steps out and makes her way towards us, grace and class in each of her step.

I immediately recognize her, even before she duffs her white rimmed sunglasses.

How could I not recognise the woman whose husband cheated on with me seven years ago.

Even with the gorgeously snug red dress and equally gorgeous cascading chestnut hair, I could detect a hint of nervousness as she switched her black leather bag to the other hand.

Why is she nervous? If anything, I should be the one peeing in my pants right now because of what I did to her, even though not intentionally, seven years ago.

As obscurely as possible, I whisper to one of the guards to go take care of her before this cooperate-looking hyenas who are already starting to give her the 'prey' stare tear her into pieces.

With the guard's help, she successfully makes her way to my side of the barricade and stands beside me.

To my surprise, she gives me a dashing smile before addressing the reporters who are already bombarding her, their new prey, with questions.

"I don't have much to say," her voice, so sonorous it might as well have belonged to an opera singer rings out, calm and confidence lacing each and every word, making me wonder if I had imagined the nervousness in her eyes earlier. "And if you can't find answers to your myriad questions in these speech I am about to give, then it's none of Jules' and I's business.

Getting more and more surprised by the minute, I raise my mental eyebrow at her informal use of my name. The woman and I are simply not friends. Hell, we hardly even speak to each other despite our mothers being friends.

"Jules and my husband dated briefly seven years ago. He told me about it. Then, we were newly married. And as you all know, it was an arranged marriage. I am not trying to justify my husband cheating on me. But what you all should know is that my husband has grown to love me and I've grown to love him more and more. The mistakes are in the past. So, just like the bible said, whosoever has no sin among y'all is free to cast the very first stone."

Silence, complete silence follows Loretta's speech. Even Shrewd Shorty has a look resembling sobriety on his face. Not waiting to see if the reporters would think of something else to say, (as they always do) she grabs my hand and leads me to her car. Still dazed with surprise and confusion, I hop in as she opens the door of the shotgun.

It is not until she starts to drive in the opposite direction that I finally manage to open my mouth and say something.

"Where are we going?"

The only response I get from her is.. a smile.

Could this woman get any weirder.

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