In My Desperate Time

I put the meat into my mouth slowly and look at the woman who is speaking.
I know her. She is one of the women who surround Frances Louis.
She is followed by two other women. One is Fontaine, who still has tears on her face. When she looks at me, the venom in her
eyes almost kills me.
Although they have three people, I am not afraid of them.
What can they do to me in public? Besides, with Frances Louis supporting me, I'm a coward.
Slowly I wipe my mouth, then my hands. I get up, smiling at them, “what can you do if I am from the countryside? Frances
Louis's dating with me, not you. I have flown up on the branch, I am the phoenix!”
Usually I really hate the entanglement with Frances Louis. But now, it has become the backing for my arrogance.
They're just a bunch of bullies, and if I'm tough enough, they'll know I'm not a push-over.
Then their faces turn pale. They look towards Frances Louis and seem to be frightened.
“You are just a sex toy. Wait and see.”
That woman leaves a malicious sentence and go away with other two women.
I purse my lips and sit down to eat. This foie gras is so delicious, I don't know who the chef is, how could he make such a
delicious thing.
Sure enough, the rich eat better than the average person.
Hungry and greedy, in a short time, there is only one foie gras left on the plate.
I look at the last piece of meat in front of me awkwardly, hesitating to eat it.
“Is it good?” The playful voice of Frances Louis rings behind me, and I blush immediately.
All women here are famous ladies, polite and reserved. They eat like a bird. I don't fit in here.
“No!”

I answer dishonestly, and get up to leave.
The light in the hall suddenly dims.
Frances Louis takes my hand and holds me into his arms.
“Let’s dance.” His star-like gaze almost melts me.
My heart beats quickly.
Again, I am distracted by Frances Louis. Facing such a handsome and rich man, I feel difficult to resist him. But the relationship
between him and me is just a deal, and I can't let myself sink down in the illusion.
I shake my head and get out of his hand, “I don’t want to dance with you.”
Then, my hands are hold by someone else.
“Maybe this little beauty wants to dance with me.” The ruffian man takes my hands to the center of the crowd.
Frances Louis's face looks heavy and his calm eyes are fixed on me, which makes me flustered.
I'm really bad at dancing. I used to eat when there was a company party. If someone asks to dance, I would decline them. I just
hope I won’t make a fool of myself in front of so many people today.
“I am not good at dancing.” I say honestly, but my eyes try to find Frances Louis unconsciously.
Then I realize that he has gone to somewhere else. Looking around the crowd, I find him talking to someone nearby. Several
women come up and invite him, but he seems to have turned them down.
Had it not been for Frances Louis, who was so cruel to me in bed, I should have suspected that he didn’t like women.
“Don’t look at Frances, just follow my step.” This man says to me gently.
Although his hand is around my waist, it only presses against my clothes and doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. This man
looks promiscuous, but he is supposed to be a gentleman.
Then I am relieved and dance to his pace.
“My name is Lawrence Jordan. I've been a friend of Mr. Louis for many years.”

He says something to me from time to time that distracts me and makes me feel less nervous.
“This is the first time he has brought a woman to a party.” Lawrence Jordan says to me.
I don’t believe him.
This doesn’t seem like Frances Louis. And I'm not naive enough to think how special I am for him.
“Who knows. I can’t guess his thoughts.”
Led by Lawrence Jordan, I finish the dance smoothly. I find dancing is not as difficult as I thought. I must have been nervous
before.
I am about to go to the side for a break when someone else's high heel steps on my heel and I lean forward, out of control,
toward Lawrence Jordan.
And awkwardly, I kiss Lawrence Jordan on his lips.
There seems to be a sharp look behind me. Lawrence Jordan turns pale, pushing me away like a plague, and says in a panic,
“it's nearly twelve o'clock? The last sweet time is for you and Mr. Louis.”
I fall back into a warm, familiar embrace. Without looking back, I know it is Frances Louis. Because he still has that strong
perfume on his body.
Lawrence Jordan greases his feet and runs off. He seems to be afraid of Frances Louis.
I turn my head weakly to Frances Louis's smiling eyes.
This smile looks creepy.
“It...it was just an accident.”
“You are hungry for man.” Frances Louis says and drags me to go out.