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If two people
were destined to one another; but they could be。
But; as in any relationship where Serena
has been involved; with its farrinha Nate was just a quick fied。
Blair and Nate were serious
thing。
And they were always a presence; as reliable as the doorman in the lobby of the
building at Fifth Avenue Serena … which was impossible to imagine how the future would be
without them as spouses。
Because of them; Serena would be felt as part of a relationship
seriously; and it was daunting to see how things had been bad。
Blair sofregamente drank of his cup of Cristal champagne。
The two girls were sitting alone
at a round table and large; covered with a towel taffeta black and white muslin; the opulent
ballroom of the Hotel St。
Claire;
ballroom where the annual Black…and…White was good bunch。
Girls take the fall…to…long and
black of Versace and Dolce & Gabbana; with white plumes in the hair; danced with boys in
scintillant smokings black and white Tom Ford for Gucci; and a giant ball made of black and
white roses hung from ceiling。
Blair had a strong déjà vu。
Her mother had married a month before with a Mané; suarento named Cyrus Rose; fat and
receipt of the marriage happened in that room。
The marriage also occurred on the anniversary
of 17 years of Blair; the day she planned to go to the end with Nate。
She spent hours if
store and tested repeatedly in the head every moment of it。
But then she was hampered by
Nate is holding with that little girl in the lobby of the hotel and realized that in the
end; no matter how nice you were on your bridesmaid dress from Chloé brown; or how her hair
was theater; or the height of jumps of her Manolo Blahnik stiletto; Nate
was busy apalpando the breasts of that balloon head felpuda of 14 years to realize
something。
It was the worst birthday that Blair has。
But she would not be hammering it。
It was not that
type。
Oh; yeah; okay then。