Like a Moth to a Flame
PENELOPE
The invitation was simple.
Halloween. Party. Costume.
I could do that. I could do all three of those; I had done all three of those. Some people would say really well…
So why did I feel this overwhelming urge to vomit?
It was just another party. A small, intimate gathering… of two hundred and fifty CEOs, heads of state and more rich people than you could shake a dollar bill at.
No big f*****g deal, right?
You danced with dignitaries, ignored their advances as their wives got drunk off expensive champagne, and pretended not to notice when people disappeared, when spouses split up into separate rooms, when private affairs took a public stage.
It was politics. As usual. But I convinced myself I was going to have a good time. I was going to dance. I was
