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Before I knew it, the easy ride brought me to the drop-off leading up to the main door of the Montgomery mansion.
The pathway was lined with lights and an abundance of heady flowers. I followed a trail of guests to the door.
A tall, silver-haired figure stood at the threshold.
He looked like a direct import from England. Like he'd been flown in after a long-standing decade of serving the Queen herself.
"Name, please?"
"Ha!"
Why did I say that? Why was I so awkward? I wished the marble floors would just swallow me whole.
"I mean ..." I fumbled, trying not to let his hawk-like eyes pierce through me. "I'm Juniper. Juniper Davis."
He took a minute to go over the names on the list he held in his hands. A very agonizing minute.
Maybe this was some joke Harold had played on me?
I nearly turned and pulled a Cinderella before he spoke again, his tone cold as day-old turkey right outta the freezer.
"Welcome to the Riviera party, Ms. Davis. You may go through to the salon."
"Thanks, you too."
Before I could give him the chance to throw me out for the stupidest comeback ever, I ran into the salon.
I was immediately bombarded by an onslaught of people in clothes worth more than my year's salary.
On any other day, I'd curse myself for being a social anomaly, but right now, I was absolutely blown away by the opulence of the interior.
The entire salon could have swallowed my apartment, with ceilings so high they could go on forever. Tall windows, rich, warm walls, and ornate moldings were everywhere.
I meandered through the room, but not before I overheard a conversation between two guests.
"My dear, it comes as no surprise that Mr. Montgomery has spared no expense for this evening's affair."
"I hear he's preparing to make a rather momentous announcement. No doubt, an attempt to conceal the origins of his vast wealth."
"Truly, the Montgomery family has a dubious reputation in certain circles. There are whispers of thievery and deceit."
"I have heard tales of a scandalous affair involving Mr. Montgomery and a woman of questionable reputation in his younger days."
"It is quite clear that he is a man with many secrets."
They turned around and saw me, and one of them—a big ol' fella in a fancy vest, his eye accentuated by a ridiculous monocle, scowled.
I took off running quicker than a spooked hen.
Trying to shake off the heaviness of the air, I approached a group of people near the bar.
"Hey there," I said, raising my voice and giving in to the sudden burst of social energy. "What's everyone drinking?"
One of the men in the group turned to me and grinned. "Whiskey, of course. We're in the south, honey. What else would we be drinking?"
I chuckled and shook my head. "I shoulda known better. Make mine a double."
A few drinks later, my bladder had a mind of its own. I rushed out of the salon and found myself in a maze of a corridor. Where the hell was the washroom?
