Strawberry Kisses by Phavy Prieto (always you kirsty moseley .TXT) 📕

have a trip planned for the next year. I guess you will get married in Spain, right? " asked one of the people who had a partner.

"We haven't decided the date yet, but it will certainly be in Spain," Damian replied with such a confidence that even I believe it.

This man is a born salesman who’s able to sell smoke from an unlit fireplace.

We were told that dinner would be served shortly so we got ready to go to the hall where it was held. The setting and decorations of that venue were incredible: pink and orange flowers everywhere – I would have personally used only white roses – and everything arranged with extreme attention to the smallest detail. The porcelain dishes were white with gold trim and the wine glasses had the names of the newlyweds etched on them.

"Most holy mother! Undoubtedly everyone here is full of money except me," I thought, pitying myself.

Apparently not all the wedding guests were taking part in that dinner but only those who were staying at the hotel. After we sat down at the table, there were some jokes about the years at the university. It was interesting to learn something about Damian's life from his friends. His private life was a complete mystery to me, apart from the detail of his ex who had left him for his best friend. Beyond that, everything was to be discovered.

"Where did you meet?" the voice of one of the women caught my attention and I looked away from Damian.

"Oh, in the most absurd way possible," I replied, smiling. "He hit me as he got out of the elevator."

I told the truth, only omitting that he was my boss and that he had blackmailed me so that I accompanied him to the wedding.

"How romantic!" she exclaimed putting a hand on her chest. "Without a doubt it was fate," she added with an affectionate smile.

"Fate? Sure, thanks to fate I felt ashamed for days," I thought, remembering how Damian learned about my self-gratification. "Better if you focus on something else, Maria. Tonight you are going to sleep with Adonis. What if you lose yourself and jump on him?"

"Yeah, it was definitely fate," I said dreamily.

"You can't imagine how happy I am for him! Everyone said that after Rebecca he would never recover. Look at him now! He seems so in love! And look at that ring!" she exclaimed. For some reason I felt the need to slap her in the face, but I managed to restrain myself. She certainly didn’t say it with bad intentions.

"Honestly, the ring is the least important thing. You should have heard his declaration of love when he asked me to marry him," I said, placing a hand on my chest too. "Damian has shown me with every gesture how much he loves me and that I am the only one with whom he wishes to spend the rest of his life."

Yes! An extra point for Maria! Maybe I should become an actress.

"Oh, that’s amazing! What did he say?" she insisted. At that moment the bride and the groom made their entrance and I was saved like a schoolgirl by the sound of the bell.

When I examined Damian's ex, that long-legged sore, for once in my life I would have preferred not to be right. There she was, the perfect 90-60-90 Barbie, with thick blonde hair, eyes that, despite the distance, seemed blue to me, way over five feet tall and probably with a natural firm ass without killing herself by doing squats at the gym.

"Life is not unfair, it’s total shit," I told myself, feeling that somehow I was competing with that hateful woman. "God, have mercy on me! May she be at least born stupid," I pleaded.

Then I focused on the groom. I had to admit he was handsome, a burly sort, chestnut hair, light blue eyes, a little too pale and freckled for my taste, but totally acceptable on the whole. Could he be better than Damian? Not even after twenty shots of vodka.

"I can understand why you and your friend were dazzled by that stunning blonde," I whispered in Damian's ear. He was so tense that if I had pushed him he would have certainly fallen backwards as stiff as a statue.

"You'd better not to remind me," he said in a low voice. "Sometimes I wonder how I could be so blind."

"Perhaps the saying is true, there is no worse blind man than the one who doesn't want to see," I replied so close to his ear that I accidentally touched it with my nose. He turned towards me to look me straight in the eye.

"Now I see perfectly," he said. "And I really like what I see."

Is it me or is it very hot in here all of a sudden?

"I like what I see too," I replied, losing myself in his eyes.

"Damian! My friend!" The voice that interrupted the exchange of loving glances and soft murmurs belonged to the groom, the famous marquis named Michael accompanied by his giraffe. She had to have swallowed a broom stick, otherwise that haughty attitude would have been inexplicable.

"Michael! Good to see you!" Damian said hugging him tightly. "Rebecca," he greeted her with a hint of a bow.

"I'm glad you finally found the time to come, dear. Michael and I would have been very upset if you weren't present, considering that we met thanks to you," spat the giraffe.

"Well done! Twist the knife in his wound again," I thought as I told myself that her arrogant voice perfectly fitted with the profile of a social climber.

"I could have never missed my best friend's wedding," Damian replied while his hand run over my waist to draw me closer to him. "This is Maria, my future bride."

"Finally, we meet!" Michael exclaimed. I