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There was a wedding party in the hotel lobby when we stepped from our private elevator. It was clearly the union of two incredibly well-to-do families – I believe I recognized the Bride’s mother from the society pages of Tatler – and the bride looked absolutely ravishing in a voluminous ivory gown that accentuated her tiny waist and overflowing boobs a treat. The groom wore a slate gray suit and shoes that shone so bright that it fair hurt the eyes, and gazing upon his beautiful bride, he looked like the cat that got the cream.
All eyes fell upon Antoine and I, and excited conversations about how well the ceremony had gone, how gorgeous the bride looked in her mother’s old dress and didn’t they make just an adorable couple fell silent as we walked by.
“Good evening,” Antoine, resplend
