Around six that night Donovan's orders began to arrive at the house. Cases of whiskey, vodka, schnapps, kegs of beer. A large ice statue for shots carved into a pair of headphones. Then came the decorators, a whirred wind of lights and colors, tables garnished with glowing exotic roses soaking in a mixture of water and a neon solution. Then came the sound and lighting equipment, sending yard spazzuming in laser lights and throbbing bass. No parties here on the west side of the country could compare to some of the ones he had seen in New York. The Dj booth sat 10 feet back from the pool, the whole scene looking over the hillside from the Infinity pool. The party would begin at sundown, nearly two hours left.

Inside the house the was just as lavish, the sound system he had ran all through the house and could be hooked up to the dj booth. The catering company had come and went, and he could already smell the large spread of mouthwatering food. Heading up stairs, Donovan showered and changed into sleek designer swim trunks, revealing his tones muscles. A light beach vest and he was out back again. The sun was nearly coming down, it wouldn't be much longer.