Groveling at Her Feet
Once I was certain the necklace in the photo had been made from the gold I gave him, I sent a message to our workplace group chat.
"Best wishes to Mr. Hoover and Ms. Lott. May you have pretty babies."
A few minutes later, Gigi explained they were merely fulfilling a bet they had made while playing a game. It had all been done at the behest of the winner.
Donald, who had seemingly vanished for a day, finally appeared as well.
"What is wrong with you? Why did you send something like that to the group chat? She's a fellow woman, isn't she? Why are you so jealous of her? Can you not live without a man or something?"