A side door caught her attention, however, and she let herself in, figuring she’d give the greeter a break. She wandered through a stale room with no obvious personal effects, equipped with its own bathroom and sitting room. A guest suite larger than her house growing up. She shook her head as she surveyed the enormous TV mounted on the wall near the open door.
Lo and behold, Sam’s voice floated in on the scented air from the hallway!
“—I don’t know,” she was saying.
Charity ambled closer—the high heels were completely useless for walking. She heard another woman say, “I definitely think you have a shot with Donnie.”
Charity slowed.
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” the stranger said. “I know him really well.”
“Are you sure about Devon, though?” Sam asked. “I’d much rather go for him.”
“He’s not even coming,” the other girl said. “He wasn’t invited.”
“Are you sure? I saw him down the road.”
“You did?” Silence filled a pause before someone tsked. “I don’t know. But regardless, I wouldn’t bother with Devon. I’ve never seen someone successfully land him. As soon as he bangs a girl, he completely loses interest. He’s notorious for it. I definitely think Donnie’s your best bet.”
A sigh wafted in to Charity, who was currently holding her breath, waiting for the verdict.
“Okay, then. Talk to Donnie for me. But, like, don’t make me sound eager or anything. Just, like, see if he’s interested or whatever. Totally back off if he’s not, you know?”
“Obviously, yeah. Maybe see if he’s into something casual at first…”
“And, you know, if he wants to…hook up tonight or whatever, I’d be down for that.” Sam paused for a minute, giving Charity time to wonder if her heart was trying to break her ribs. “Or do you think that’s too slutty?”
“No, definitely not. That’s the way you kinda have to play it with people like Donnie. You’ve got a lot of competition, you know? Make sure he knows you’re for real and not some tease.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. But…don’t mention it to anyone, all right? Let’s keep it quiet. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or anything…”
The other girl snorted. “Yeah, right! Hurt feelings? Everyone will be jealous!”
“I know, but…still,” Samantha said, tempering her snobby voice. She used that voice when she was uncomfortable but didn’t want to show it.
“I mean, sure. Whatever,” the other girl acquiesced.
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
“I gotta pee,” Samantha announced.
“Yeah, me too. I’ll go with.”
As the footsteps receded, Charity exhaled and fell back against the wall. Disappointment tugged at her. In reality, she knew she didn’t have a shot in hell with Donnie. She’d always known that. Sure, maybe she could bang him, like Sam was thinking, but that wasn’t her style. She wasn’t into casual flings. But man, it sucked that Sam was blasé about going for him, knowing Charity was seriously crushing on him. Sam wouldn’t even stick with him, either. She’d get tired of him in a couple of weeks, and that would be the end of it. Meanwhile, Charity would have to hear them having sex through the thin walls.
She blew out a breath, sinking into her sadness. She wanted to stamp her foot and yell about life being unfair. To throw a tantrum and maybe go give Sam a piece of her mind. But what would that solve? The world worked how the world worked—there was no point in getting all twisted up about the inevitable. A lot of things in her life had been unfair. A girl had to celebrate her wins instead of dwell on her losses. Maybe she wouldn’t get the guy she liked; so what? She was working her way through school in a great city, and she was at a party so elite they had a guard dressed in leather watching for crashers. She had it pretty good.
As far as Donnie went? Let Sam try to make conversation with him. She’d pull her hair out.
Smirking, Charity headed out and down the hall with a painful shamble. Her mind drifted to other matters, like why would someone pay four hundred dollars to be this uncomfortable? Was a severed toe fashionable? Because Charity saw no other use for the heels.
Wincing, she turned left at the end of the hall and found herself in the foyer. Relieved to recognize her surroundings, and even more so to discover the greeter was gone, she hobbled out into the evening air. Sam had been right about the punch. It didn’t seem dangerous. Everyone but her was