“She is staying here,” Spencer said while misinterpreting my silence as a sign of my surrender. “You can either pay for her or you can start packing your own bags.”
My anger disappeared and was replaced by a cold sense of clarity. I realized the charming man I met at that gala on Broadway was nothing more than a well dressed freeloader.
“Okay,” I told him with a small and precise smile. Both of them relaxed instantly as if they had just won the lottery.
Paige reached for a bottle of vintage champagne I had been saving to celebrate a big promotion at work. “Should we open this now?” she asked with a playful grin.
Spencer laughed and told her that everything was perfectly clear now. I walked into my bedroom and packed a single suitcase with my passport, jewelry, and a very important folder from my desk.
When I walked back into the living room, they were already pouring glasses of my expensive champagne. “Are you leaving already?” Paige asked while raising her glass toward me.
“Enjoy what is left,” I replied as I headed for the door. “In a few minutes, you won’t even have a place to sit.”
I walked straight down to the building’s main office with the lease agreement clutched tightly against my chest. The building manager, a woman named Helene, looked up from her desk and saw the look on my face.
“I need to speak with you about my unit,” I told her firmly. She pulled up my file and confirmed that I was the sole tenant of the loft.
