made it pretty much across the country from the brownstone
Haley’s dad owned. This lady wasn’t messing around, and it
was clear that when her dad said she was rich, she was
seriously rich. The house was nothing short of a monolith.
Made of stone, with a fountain in the middle of the driveway
just like in movies, wrought iron gates that fronted the drive,
the house was three stories tall. Haley could also see, just from
the driveway, that there was a structure in the backyard,
probably a pool house, and she could make out a tennis court
off to the side. In addition to all of that, the property had a
crazy view of the water, and an endless expanse of green grass
that was probably acres of shorefront.
Haley thought their house was expensive. She’d never seen
anything like this. What would a place like this cost? Ten
million? Twenty?
If this lady could afford all of this, why was she still sore
about the restaurant her dad had taken full ownership of over a
decade ago? He’d pushed her out, he admitted that much, and
apparently old grudges died slow deaths.
Haley parked at the top of the driveway, where the curve
met the house and wrapped back around. Her car felt old and
cheap next to the house, even though it wasn’t either of those
things. She ground her teeth and clenched her hands into tight
fists before getting out.
No one came to greet her. No valet, no butler, no one.
And then, finally, there was someone. A petite woman with
closely cropped dark hair, piercing eyes the color of the finely
manicured lawn surrounding the house. She wasn’t wearing a
suit. She was wearing skinny jeans, combat boots that suited
her, and a tucked-in black t-shirt. The exposed skin of her