"And that's when I realized," she gives a dramatic pause, "that Patriesse had both her hands dipped in the sticky goo and she is enjoying every bit of kneading the slime, didn't you?" "Ah yes, Mum," I shoot an awkward glance at all the people around who were listening to my mum's stories agape. I mean, come on people, and go get some refreshments, enjoy the party. Why to waste such a lovely evening listening to the dragging gossips of a chatterbox in her mid-fifties?

But the people around seem to be fixated on her, their eyes popping out as if they had suddenly heard of Brad Pitt performing a strip tease in the neighborhood club. Hastily I look around for Brendan. He's hovering around the half cut wedding cake, poking his fingers into the white icing and sucking them.

Yuck!

At least he isn't listening to my mother making a fool of me in front of my business clients, some of whom I need to work with for the rest of my life. They are all high profile people.

Does she even realize that one slip can ruin my career? What will I answer them if they suddenly start discussing my favorite underwear as a child. I can almost see Greg, my boss, sip on his coffee with a satisfied grunt and say, "So Pat, you liked sunflower printed panties as a child? You mum is an awesome lady by the way..."

"Aaah Mamma, Could we speak about something—"

"There you are Pat," Brendan swoops down on me, engulfing me in a hug. People would think he hasn't seen me in days, not a few minutes. This is one particular habit which is really annoying. Brendan is a really good boy and he is madly in love with me since the time we met in high school, so I ignore his antics as much as possible, putting it off as childlike innocence. He kisses me full mouthed leaving me gasping for air.

"What the —" I break off from his grip and run after mom before she can grab someone else to rant about my childhood days.

"Mum, I think we should go meet Susan," I try to drag her even as she tries to tell Mrs. Dieger about how I fell into the pool as a kid once.

"But I just started —"

"No mum, she must be waiting," I cut her off with my most convincing voice.

"Oh Patty-cake, my darling —"

I try to shush her but realized it was too late.

"What did you call her?" Andy takes the words from her mouth.

Aargh!

Now this will be the boardroom table discussion at office tomorrow. I have to remember to make an excuse about not turning up at work because the flush of my loo got blocked. Weird right? But that got me out of many situations where I turned up late.

"Patty-cake," repeats mum innocently and I realize my fingers are dangerously close to Andy's neck. I can throttle him right here. If this name got out of here, my reputation would go down the drains with it. "Patty-cake?" Brendan is peering at me with his curious brown eyes, his long, almost feminine eyelashes batting away at full speed. He does that when he is surprised.

Shit!

Now my boyfriend knows the weird name too. Mum could as well have taken the microphone and announced it at Maddock Square. "Yeah, that's a name mum uses. Can't we just all go meet the newlyweds?" I wave me hands frantically to divert their attention to a safer topic than my name.

"Cute name," I hear Greg's voice. So, the boss knows now too.

Great! Soon the whole party will be buzzing with my nickname.

My face is flaming with embarrassment and I feel lightheaded. Turning around abruptly, I hurry away in my heels to get away from the mess. Once I'm at the door, I slip outside unnoticed and find myself walking along a corridor. The verandah has intricately carved windows with wooden frames and colored glass collage and the light filtering through it is almost ethereal.

There is no sound except the occasional chink of my twenty pounds necklace, bought at a thrift store. It came with a casing of "Tifeny". Well, that saves a whole lot of complications, but people in such posh parties are wearing real stuff from the original Tiffany's. Even if they don't have the means, they probably preserve that one piece to flaunt off in all occasions. I, on the other hand, am really interested in custom jewelry to go with my dresses and I mostly stick to minimal accessories. A watch and just some crystal drop earrings or a thin, shimmering metal chain.

One of the windows is open and the wind blowing ruffles my skirt which gives a signature rustle of starched fabric. The other ladies are probably wrapped in silk.

"Why the name?" a voice startles me as I look around for a familiar face. A man is walking towards me, piercing the dark. He's in a midnight blue tuxedo and has ordinary features. But what stands out the most are his eyes. They are gorgeous cobalt, so deep that you could drown in them. But just at that moment, breaking my romantic instincts, my self-defense kicks in. What the hell am I doing with a stranger in the dark, away from the safety of the company at the hall?

"Excuse me," I step back, folding my arms for emphasis. "Do I know you?"

"Everyone you know now were once a stranger, weren't they?" he smirks.

"And it's rude to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation." I narrow my eyes at him. Who is this man that has the audacity to take on me single handedly? It's not for nothing they called my Lady Mafia at school.

Hey, that's another secret. Pretend you never heard that! 

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A/N Hi everyone... It's my first story in the humor end of the spectrum and I'd really like some feedback... Tagging some people along, just in case... Please please please tag all those that you think like humor and chicklit blend...