Page 23 of Landlord Wars
Not many people knew about my parents’ money troubles, but I’d shared them with Gwen, and her response had been enlightening. She’d told me we should put our relationship on hold until we knew how society would react. I’d never shared the reason we broke up with my parents; they were paranoid about their financial losses as it was.
“My mother has a membership to Villa Taverna,” I said to Lizzie, “but the roster is tight-knit. It’s been decades since Gwen’s family set down roots in San Francisco, but apparently that’s not long enough, even with my mother’s support.” I tipped up my chin at an acquaintance across the foyer. “I suspect Gwen hasn’t told her friends about the breakup because for now being tied to my parents is a boon. Her family are still considered newcomers, whereas my parents are at the top of the pecking order.”
Lizzie shook her head. “This city is full of assholes. And of course Gwen didn’t tell anyone you broke up. Why would she let go of Maxwell Burrows?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “You say that as though dating me is a good thing.”
Lizzie made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “If you’re into pain-in-the ass rich guys, then yes, it could be a good thing. However, not all of us are masochists.” She shot me a comical look to show she was only half serious.
If I ever needed an ego lashing, I could pick up one of Lizzie’s calls.
Her expression grew serious. “You weren’t a good fit with Gwen, and I never understood why you were dating her to begin with.”
“Not a good fit…” I considered that a moment. “You’re the first person to think so.”
My mother, and everyone else hobnobbing in the mansion tonight, had thought Gwen and I would get married, and they supported it.
As though her ears were burning, Kitty took that moment to look up. I loved my mom, but she was partially responsible for the reason this town believed Gwen and I were still together. Even my own mother wouldn’t acknowledge it was over.
Never underestimate the influence of a mother hellbent on making a good match for her son.
With the moves of a linebacker, in her Jimmy Choo pumps and silver embroidered cocktail dress, my petite mother shouldered past Mr. and Mrs. Drake on her way to intercept me and Lizzie. “What are you two whispering about?”
“Just telling Lizzie here how much happier I am now that I’m single.”
My mother frowned. “Said like a man who has everything. One day you’ll wish you had the support of a good woman.”
Gwen wasn’t a bad person. But she was too caught up in appearances to genuinely love anyone. It was a casualty of wealth and power. “I don’t plan to be single forever.”
I’d thought I could spot a schemer from a mile away after my breakup with Gwen and Jack’s horrendous relationship with his last roommate.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
I’d been wrong about Sophia. And a part of me was uncharacteristically pleased about that.
ChapterTen
Sophia
Elise openedthe semi-walk-in closet inside my bedroom and studied the space. It was bigger than a reach in, but small in the sense than only one person could step inside at a time. Then again, any walk-in closet in San Francisco, where space was a rare commodity, was unheard of. “Did the white dresser come with the closet?”
“No,” I said, puffing up my chest. “I bought it and put it together.”
She looked over her shoulder. “You built this?”
“Don’t act so shocked.”
“Well, I am. You suck at building things.” She eyed the dresser. “How long did it take you?”
I crossed my fingers behind my back. “An hour.”
I may have taken care of things back home, but not without help. I had a phone and knew how to call in the professionals.
Elise sent me a disbelieving look.
“Fine,” I said. “It might have taken closer to two hours to build.”
She looked at me pityingly. “You realize that when you move, you won’t be able to bring this with you, right?”
