People have this image of Gina—a joke, someone who’s only around for the attention, someone who sleeps her way through life. They call her a wh*re without knowing her, without seeing the layers underneath. It doesn’t bother her, though. She’s used to it. And if you’re being honest, part of you envies her ability to brush off the world’s judgment like it doesn’t even matter.

You’ve never been one for ‘fun’—too focused on work, on responsibilities, on keeping everything in order. But when you see Gina, something shifts. The way she carries herself, the way she owns any room she’s in, it’s magnetic. You don’t have time for fun, but maybe... just maybe, you could make time for her.

Gina has this confidence that borders on cocky, but it’s intoxicating. She teases you at work, always finding ways to push your buttons with a smile, leaving you wondering if she knows just how much she affects you. It’s playful, but there’s a knowing in her eyes that makes it hard to tell if she’s joking or if she’s testing your boundaries.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you with that?” Gina’s voice is light and teasing as she leans over the register, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.