In My Double Digits Era Invitation Novels & Stories

The invitation appears on my desk Thursday morning. Thick cream cardstock. Embossed gold lettering. The kind of expensive that screams old money. *You are cordially invited to the Annual Blackwood Foundation Charity Gala* *Saturday, July 20th, 7:00 PM* *The Metropolitan Club* *Black Tie* I stare at it. Touch the raised lettering like it might bite. This isn’t right. I’ve been here three weeks. Junior employees don’t get invited to the foundation gala. I know because Lena complained about it last week. Five years at the company and she’s never received an invitation.

“When is it?” “Next month, 15th.” “Let me help you with invitations. You could get a lot of high dignitaries grace the occasion. Please don’t refuse.” “Fine, you can help.” I agreed, smiling as I continued to massage his shaft.I loved the way it felt as it slid up and down against my clit. Though my company wasn’t just for the high society, it was for everyone and the prices would be quite fair and reasonable. “Uhh…” He grunted, closing his eyes.

Sienna's POV The invitation arrived on a Thursday afternoon. Heavy cream cardstock. Gold embossed lettering. The kind of invitation that screamed wealth and exclusivity. I opened it carefully, already knowing what it would be before I even read the words. "The Paris Children's Foundation cordially invites you to our annual charity gala. Black tie. Five hundred euros per plate. All proceeds benefit underprivileged children in developing nations."

The gilded invitation arrived on a Tuesday, slipped between the morning’s security briefing and a stack of unopened Foundation donation requests. Heavy cardstock with embossed lettering, smelling faintly of bergamot and old money—the kind of scent that clung to my father’s study, to the leather-bound ledgers where he tallied his sins like quarterly profits. Mr. Jeff Ortega & Ms. Demetria Perez You are cordially invited to celebrate The 50th Anniversary of Rykov International

Then he said he wanted to get married? Seriously, I couldn't help but laugh. "Hello, Levi!" Milly really ruined the atmosphere by waving her hand in front of my face. "You used a gigolo to reject me?" I exhaled harshly and looked out the window beside me. Come to think of it..., "It's fine to join next time." Aryo must like women's inverted triangles. We can try something like... a sandwich? "You're crazy!" Milly swore. "You're welcome." Yes, I was crazy for accepting the idea of marriage at forty. With Milly not being young either, I could justify the issue of offspring.

I would rather choose as I am the only one attending their houses. “8:00 PM is the start and it is definitely okay to be late. The guard of our village will still let you all in because Dad has already told them about the event. Just give this invitation to the guard as proof that you’re invited. This is what they will look for you so you can come in so make sure you bring it, okay?” I grabbed my bag and pulled out the invitation cards there. Dad's secretary also just gave them to me recently. That’s all 30 pieces and exactly the number of my classmates. They are all invited. I didn't fight with them so I didn't invite anyone. I'm so friendly, right?

The invitation lands at noon, hand-delivered by a courier in a black suit who moves like security. Heavy cream stock. Gold lettering embossed so deep my fingers caught on the grooves. The kind of invitation that costs more to produce than most people allocate for a month of groceries. Elara is organizing a gala. Tonight. At the Detroit Institute of Arts. "She's deranged," I say, brandishing the invitation at Julian. "The mystery messenger demanded a meeting at the bench. You can't parade into a party."

In four years, I had never seen him this broken. With trembling fingers, he unlocked his phone and shoved it toward me. The digital invitation filled the screen in elegant rose gold and deep emerald green. Delicate floral accents framed the names in sophisticated serif font: Iris Elizabeth Montgomery & Cole Alexander Harrington request the pleasure of your company as they celebrate their union Ten weeks from today. A sleek, minimalist design. Classy. Expensive-looking. The kind of invitation that screamed money and finality. My heart skipped. Hard. I bit down on the inside of my cheek so hard I nearly drew blood, fighting the smile threatening to break across my face. Finally. That pathetic,

Topher dropped the heavy envelope on my desk and practically skipped back to his desk to continue his letter. I waited until I could hear his fleet fingers on his keyboard, and then I reached for the invitation. The paper was fine linen and embossed with a compass design. Inside the invitation only gave a restaurant and a time. I wondered if the compass signified the new direction everyone was looking for. Was it for an office farewell party? There was no signature or indication of who sent it. I dismissed the idea of an office party as my phone and email exploded with invites to such get-togethers. This was different.

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 The invitation arrived two days ago. Thick paper, elegant lettering, and an embossed seal. A traditional mafia charity event—one of those where no one goes to help but to see and be seen. No one asked if I wanted to go. No one asked if I was okay. They simply informed me that my presence was mandatory. “Many important names will be there,” my mother said as she adjusted a necklace around my neck.