章 3: Corey and Carry

"What is going on here?"

The soft, yet proud words pulled Corey out of his stupor, forcing him to open his eyes and shift his attention towards the source.

He blinked a couple of times as he stared at the lady who was walking towards them. She was dressed to the nines, looking like an angel who had descended to bless mankind, or maybe it was just him she was going to bless.

"What are you doing here with this waiter?"

But as soon as she opened her red lips, his thoughts of her started to change. She looked more like a devil who was there to make sure that he would be punished. Now that his thoughts were more aligned with his mind, he could point out some similarities between the two ladies.

They were both dressed in the same gowns with the only difference being the color. Priscilla was wearing a black dress while the other lady was clad in a white one.

"Nothing special. I am just punishing a buffoon." Priscilla spoke up as she looked over her shoulder briefly.

"A handsome one, I might say." The other lady shared her thoughts as she walked closer to them. Her eyes were set on Corey's face, never leaving it for even a second.

Meanwhile, Corey was just gawking at their exchange. Without a doubt, he could claim that they were either related by blood or minds.

"Let me think about that." Priscilla shifted her attention back to Corey, and eyed him up and down. "He is handsome, nevertheless a buffoon." She bobbed her head up and down as she agreed with the lady in white while sticking to her earlier words.

"So what happened here? Why is he sniffing your sandal?" The lady spoke up as her feet came to a halt. Her eyes lingered over Corey's baffled face for a while longer before they shifted to the sandal "OMG! Did he break it?" She gasped, her eyes popping out of their sockets.

"Why else do you think I am punishing him?" Priscilla scoffed.

"That is understandable, but can you do it later though?" The lady spoke up again as she heaved out a tired sigh.

"Why though? I want him to get humiliated before everyone, just like he humiliated me by making me stumble right in the middle of the main lobby." Priscilla explained her reason for doing this, which sounded fair to her own ears.

"Look, elder sister. What you are doing is completely fair? One should be punished for the evil things they do to others. But don't you think that you should focus more on other things. Like the party we are supposed to leave for." The lady in white shook her head as she tried to make Priscilla understand that this would only result in one thing.

They would end up being late to the party which was something neither of them wanted.

Corey, who was no longer the main focus of the conversation, released a sigh of relief internally. But there was one thing which raised red flags in his mind. How the lady in white had used the words 'elder sister'. If the two ladies were sisters by blood, then he had no hope of escaping his misfortune.

"Hmmm…" Priscilla pondered over her sister's words for a couple of seconds before agreeing with her. "You do have a point. Also, I don't think that Father would be happy if we were to be late at the party."

"Yes, he won't be happy. So, why don't you just go and change your sandals. You have much better ones. Moreover, I think the black Louis Vuittons which you bought last week would go more with your dress." The lady suggested to her with a bright smile.

"You are right, how did I not think of it before? Silly me!" Priscilla bobbed her head up and down. If there was one thing she envied about her sister, it was her sense of fashion. Even though she was younger than her by only a year, she was much better at pairing up things. Hence, she always ended up getting more attention than Priscilla herself.

'Looks like I had to thank this measly little waiter for bumping into me.' She thought to herself before shaking the thought off of her mind. 'There is no need for it. I will just act like the bigger person here.' She smirked, thinking to herself as she eyed her sister.

"You know what, Carry? There is no need for you to do it. I forgive you for bumping into me, as well as for ruining my favorite pair of sandals. It will take me some time to completely forgive you for hurting my little darlings beyond repair, but I will do it." She muttered softly as she withdrew her hand back which was holding the red sandal by the edge.

"Also," She took a small pause as she turned her attention back to her sister. "You should thank my baby sister Porsha. If it wasn't for her timely reminder, I might not have realized it sooner." Priscilla added, giving her younger sister some credit, but not too much.

The young man's ocean blue eyes jumped from one sister to the other as his mind tried to process what was actually going on. "T-thank you." Stuttering through his words, he managed to thank her for acting like the 'bigger person' here.

"You can go now, Carry." Priscilla said, wanting to dismiss him hurriedly. She wanted to get out there as soon as she could, change into the mentioned pair of sandals, and get to the party so that she could not only extend networks, but also get the chance to know many handsome young men.

"Elder sister, with all due respect, are you sure you want Carry here to leave?" Porsha spoke as her eyes danced between the two figures. "You are only wearing one shoe, we need someone to support you all the way to our presidential suite."

Once again, Priscilla was forced into thinking things through by Porsha.

"You are right. You are coming with us, Carry." Without wasting much time, Priscilla agreed with her younger sister.

"B-but-" He was about to mention how busy he was, and had other things to take care of, but he was interrupted.

"No excuses at all. That is the least you could do after doing this." Priscilla was in no mood to listen to him, to the extent that she refused to listen to him, showing him the broken red heel.

"As you say, Miss." He heaved out a long frustrated sigh internally while keeping a strong front on the outside as he bowed his head lightly.

"Good, Carry." Porsha spoke up, giving him a thumbs up sign.

'It's Corey.' The poor man thought to himself. A name badge was pinned to his chest, clearly stating that his name was Corey in bold capital letters, yet he was being called Carry. And all he could do about it was to keep his mouth, and do what he was asked of.