The ordinary adventure of a particular socialite

The horror is palpable, but how could it not be? Minerva's dramatic little blonde friend beamed waves of terror from her fragile rosy little hands to the last of her curly blond hair. Bored, Minerva stared at the skinny little body of her much-loved and irritating, and sometimes weary friend. What would have happened? The clock that remained on the forged steel table on the terrace barely announced the arrival of a quarter past nine in the morning, it is hardly a short period of time for something to achieve that level of consternation. She pondered, Minerva. With a sigh, he rearranged his butt on the cushion of the wicker chair and crossed his long, bare olive legs, pondering every imaginary scenario to achieve such a state of consternation in Daisy Whittaker. Something that was not difficult because to her misfortune and horror, Daysi Whittaker was the scariest and easiest person to disturb that she had met in her thirty years of conscious life ... Usually her little children under five years old managed to get her out of their thoughts in half an hour , but since the aforementioned attended kindergarten such situations had diminished to the point of disappearing. The idea was discarded. Her boring and simple husband? He worked too many hours a day and he was not the type of person to offer such a feat, the most intrepid and worthy thing to tell that he had done since he knew him had been when his small and simple sperm managed to fertilize the ovum of his little blonde friend, outside of that even his unflappable butler of Korean descent was more worthy and exciting to be mentioned in the day. Discarded. Very ruled out. In fact… why did you consider it in the first place? The lack of caffeine in her blood was definitely getting to her. He blinked and brought his fingers to the beginning of the bridge of his straight nose to squeeze it as he continued to think. What options and scenarios did you have? Labor problems? Not since Daisy had given up her job and life in Manhattan's business district. The reason? His little simpleton from California, at that thought Minerva couldn't help rolling her eyes. His beloved Daysi abandoned her expectant and wonderful life as an independent woman to become the slave of three selfish and bossy mouths. And the worst thing is that there was no remuneration for such mistreatment, an outrage, but everyone lives their life as they like. Unhappy with the conclusion of that thought Minerva's lips pursed, she would never be that kind of woman… She adored her peace and solitude too much to chain herself to a hateful, bossy and selfish man. A loud, feminine sob loudly ripped through the atmosphere of peace and quiet that morning on the terrace — and in life — of New York's most sought-after and sought-after socialite, Minerva Mirk. Things wouldn't be boring for a while.