Plop plop plop. The red wine sloshed into the wide mouth of her glass. Something in the back of her mind nagged that she should take better care not to bruise the wine, but several hours into the Christmas party: who would mind?
An overstuffed white ottoman sat centered between the fireplace and the Christmas tree. Placed just so to give onlookers the best view of the main attraction. Tonight the entertainment happened to be gift exchanging. Reese sat back down on the loveseat next to her Sugar Daddy, Aleck, to enjoy the show.
Jacqueline, a petite brunette, began to unwrap the box covered in little Rudolphs. The wrapping paper blocked Reese’s view, but you could see how Jackie’s eyebrows shot up. How that perfect pout turned in the shape of an oversized Cheerio. The box practically fell into the fire as she whipped out the leather clutch. Every Sugar Baby in the room knew that color well. Hermes. Clearly someone ignored the budget rule. Although in a room dominated by Sugar Babies and Sugar Daddies, generosity was to be expected.
Fifteen minutes later, it was Reese’s turn to take center stage. She handed her fur coat to her Sugar Daddy and scooted over to the ottoman. Reese purred, “So, who is my Secret Santa?”. She batted her lashes suggestively and froze when she realized it was the new girl, Anne, not Aleck who had pulled her name a month ago.
Anne bounced over with a large box and a Clorox-white grin. Shock turned to excitement, as Reese thanked her for the gift and began to unwrap. After all, Anne was introduced to everyone by James—a regular attendee to their Sugar parties—as his new Sugar Baby. And James was famed for being generous. The box was wrapped in Tiffany’s blue and a black satin ribbon. Anxiety bubbled in her tummy. Remember wrapping is deceiving. Reese slowly tugged on the bow and deliberately ripped open the wrapping. Oh god…Silence.
“What did you get, honey?,” cooed Aleck.
“Show us!,” encouraged Jackie.
“Do you like?,” called overly satisfied Anne.
A big smile stretched Reese’s pretty features into a caricature. “I love it,” she lied. In fake appreciation, she narrowed those robin’s egg eyes and stretched her face again. What a terrible gift. Who gives a perfect stranger perfume?
How many of us have been subject to such torture? Did you get everything you wanted this Christmas?
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