A Gift

The music thumped through the floorboards, vibrating faintly beneath Donna’s bare feet. From the master bedroom, the party was a distant pulse—muffled laughter, the bass line of some throwback anthem, the occasional burst of a cheer. It sounded fun.

Too fun to be up here.

Donna lay sprawled on the massive bed, one leg kicked lazily over the edge, her glossy lips twisted into a pout. She was bored.

Eliza sat across the room by the vanity, brushing out her coppery hair like a doll preparing herself for a little girl's tea party. Everything about her was careful. Calm. Chosen.

"I'm just so grateful," Eliza said, her voice dreamy, distant. "I didn't realize how exhausting my old life was. All the pretending. The control. The performance of independence. Now, I just… exist for him. For Joey. It’s the most peace I’ve ever known."

Donna glanced over, watching the other woman's reflection in the mirror. Eliza's eyes were glazed with contentment, almost eerie in their stillness. She smiled faintly, reverently, like she was thinking of a god.

"Good for you," Donna said, not unkindly. She meant it. Sort of.

Eliza was allowed to be whatever version of herself she wanted to be. If submitting gave her bliss, then hallelujah. Donna could cheer her on from the sidelines.

She just didn't want to be her.

Donna liked to do. To stir things up. She had no interest in living like a pampered nun in a convent of one. She liked action. Desire. Heat. And tonight she missed her boy.

Joey.

She let her thoughts drift, smiling as she recalled their morning together. That ridiculous outfit the girls had put together for her had worked like a charm. The moment she saw Joey take in how she look, she knew she'd won —bubblegum pink crop top, those sinful shorts, glitter and gloss like a walking wet dream. She'd felt him watch her, jaw tight, gaze heavy. She'd made every step a little show.

And then the hotel.

Her smile deepened.

Calling him "husband." God, the look on his face.

She had Serena to thank for that.

Serena, the hostess at the hotel—young, statuesque, oozing polish. She'd checked them in with a wink and a sly smile, then offhandedly referred to Joey as Donna's husband. It hadn’t even been a flirty comment—just polite, perfunctory.

But something had lit up in Donna’s chest. Husband. Yes. She liked the sound of that.

And then—bless her—Serena had slipped Donna her number. Obviously it had been for Joey, but Donna had no intention in sharing him, not right then. She had waited long enough. If Serena wanted a go with him, well then she'd have to be patient. The hotel clerk was hot, and hot girls did, after all, always want Joey, so it's not like Donna could blame her.

A delicious idea curled through Donna's mind like smoke.

It was her responsibility—her pleasure—to keep Joey satisfied. She wanted him to ache with abundance. To know he was adored. Desired. Worshipped.

And what better way to honor her husband than to present him with a woman like Serena?

Someone gorgeous. Worldly. He'd love that.

She picked up her phone, thumbing in a message with a grin tugging at her lips.

Serena, this is Donna Granger, from the hotel earlier. My husband and I appreciated your service today. He is throwing a party—214 Ridgeway Lane. It would be our pleasure if you would join us. Joey is very much looking forward to seeing you.

Send.

There. One offering prepared.

She set the phone down and stood, running her fingers through her tousled auburn hair. The night was still young, and the party wouldn’t last forever. Joey might need her soon. Eliza's ex—Derek, or whatever his name was—was still a looming question mark. If he showed up, Donna wanted to be ready. Maybe she'd need to be Joey's guard dog. Or maybe his arm candy.

Either way, she had to look the part.

She slipped into the ensuite bathroom and flicked on the soft gold light. Her reflection smiled back at her—flushed cheeks, glitter-dusted lids, lips still kissable. But she could do better.

She touched up her gloss, added a little shimmer to her collarbones. Ran a hand along the curve of her waist and gave herself a wink.

Whatever the night had in store— new girls, ex-boyfriends or desire-drenched revelations—she was ready.

She only wished she could be downstairs to see the look on Joey's face when Serena walked through the door.