A mistress confronting her successor—I felt like I was in a daytime drama,

and all I could do was laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Just as my laughter faded, a muffled snicker echoed from behind me. I spun

around, my heart skipping a beat, only to meet the gaze of a man with a

naughty smile and a leather jacket, leaning casually against the wall. “Mrs.

Ferguson’s taste in drama is… unique,” he remarked, with a hint of mischief in

his eyes.

Caught eavesdropping, I felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly dissipated. “Aren’t

you doing the same?” I retorted.

The man smiled. “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Well, you have now.” Our banter was cut short as I scrutinized him. “And you

do

straightened up, shedding his carefree demeanor

then, with a nod, said, “Mrs. Ferguson, until we

again.”

away, only to grab Dorothy, the heiress

ponytail. “Dorothy, with your kind

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player from the sideline, maybe try

with

anger. “What do you mean,

term from you again,

warned before letting her go, casting

me as if he was about to reveal the truth to his

smirked, “That’s why you’re called

quick mental rundown of RiverCity’s

and there he was, dressed down

Gladys’ 80th birthday bash.

my phone

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