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

How do you

up, shedding

with a nod, said, “Mrs.

again.”

he walked away, only to grab Dorothy, the heiress

ponytail. “Dorothy, with your kind of brains,

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from the sideline, maybe

with

in anger. “What do you mean,

from you again, I’m sending you

before letting her go, casting a

was about to reveal the truth to

why

quick mental rundown of RiverCity’s elite

there he was, dressed down

Gladys’ 80th birthday bash.

my

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