Fuck, her palms joined together of their volition even before she registered that she was clapping, a tear forming in her eyes as the lights went off again. She wasn't even aware of the masked female concierge who came into the room till she perceived an enchanting feminine cologne and darted her eyes towards the direction of the third party. She and the mood she had been cast into already occupied the seats of the first two parties. "Good evening, ma'am. I'll be serving you tonight." She bore a tray of glass and a bottle of wine in the other hand. "A glass please." Clara muttered, suddenly aware of how patched her throat had become with dryness. A cold flute was soon in her hand, and she perceived the unique aroma before bringing it to her lips. It tasted sweetly sinful and smelt like soft sensuality although the alcohol level was only a background complement. Clara's eyes immediately went to the wine bottle with amazement clouding them; it bore an Italian name she couldn't