Carlos would be a Laughing stock. She didn’t want that to happen
Hayden closed Debbie’s purse quickly, grabbed the swing, and stopped it.
“My fault. I’m sorry, Deb,” he said softly.
Debbie was more than a little startled. Her heart hammered in her chest.
‘Why’s he acting so weird? First the ear studs, and then the swing. But now he gives in that easily? What’s he playing at?’
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtShe shook off her thoughts, took her purse back, and walked towards the entrance.
On the way, she called Gregory.
“Hey, Gregory. I’m taking off. You stay and have fun. Thanks for the ride,” she said.
She had lost her patience; she needed to leave before she lost her mind. Since Carlos was still busy playing the social butterfly, she decided to take a taxi home.
Gregory was no fool. He looked across the room and saw Carlos, still mingling.
“You’re not leaving with Carlos, are you?”
“Nope. No biggie. I’LL hail a taxi. Bye!”
Actually Gregory wanted to let Debbie know she might have trouble finding a taxi. After all, thousands of people were expected to attend, and not all at once. They would be taking taxis to and from their hotels and houses. And Carlos’ sudden confession to his wife had already gone viral. Debbie was now as famous as any A-list celebrity.
But Debbie had already hung up on him. Gregory went to the cashier’s desk first, and quickly plunked down the money for a watch that caught his eye. Then he sprinted for the entrance, hoping to catch up to her.
When he saw her, she was already surrounded by a gaggle of fans. Even the security guards were at a loss. They controlled the chaos as best they could.
Debbie didn’t know she had becthe talk of the town. She was going to boot up Weibo or something in the garden, but Hayden had stopped her.
When she left the gates, many people immediately recognized her.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmPiercing screams split the air.
“Look! Hey! It’s Mrs. Hilton!” “That’s
Debbie! The girl who married Carlos!
Stook out their phones to compare this woman to the pictures posted by reporters at the expo.
“Blue dress with petals, check! Updo, check!
Round eyes… Yeah! She IS Mrs. Hilton!”
“She’s so pretty!”
“Mrs. Hilton, such an honor. Can I get your autograph?” They all went on like that. The noise had reached a fever pitch, and Debbie had no problem hearing them, but she had trouble making out anything coherent.