“I want to buy a house.” I pulled back to meet his confused gaze. “Their dream house, specifically. And I know exactly how to do it.”
Six months can change everything.
I sat in Craig’s office, watching him review the quarterly reports I had prepared. My mentor’s eyebrows rose higher with each page.
“Ivy, these numbers are exceptional.” He set the papers down. “You’ve doubled your client portfolio since spring.”
I smiled, thinking of the sleepless nights and endless coffee runs that had gotten me here. “Thank you. I’ve been focused.”
“Focused is an understatement. The board noticed. There’s talk of a promotion.”
My phone buzzed. Another ignored text from Sophie. I switched it to silent without looking.
“Speaking of focus,” Craig leaned forward, “how’s the house hunting going?”
“Actually, I’m closing on a property next week.” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “The Victorian on Maple Grove.”
Craig whistled. “That’s quite a purchase for a first-time buyer. You sure about this?”
“More than anything.”
After work, I met Eric at our usual coffee shop. He was already there, laptop open, real estate documents spread across the table.
“The sellers accepted your offer,” he said without preamble. “But there’s something else. Look at this.”
He turned his laptop toward me. On the screen was Sophie’s social media post: Can’t wait to start our new chapter. Dream home. Baby on the way. Below it was a photo of her and Jaime standing in front of the same Victorian house I was about to own.
“They don’t know,” I said, sipping my coffee. “They think they’re getting it.”
“Ivy.” Eric ran a hand through his hair. “Are you absolutely sure about this? Once you sign those papers, they’re meeting the Realtor tomorrow.”
“I cut in to make their offer. An offer they can’t afford, by the way. I’ve seen Jaime’s financials.”
“How did you—”
“Denise in accounting. She owed me a favor.”
Eric closed his laptop. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“Almost.” I pulled out my phone, showing him the invitation I had just received. “Sophie’s having a housewarming party next month.”
“For a house she doesn’t own yet.”
My phone rang. My mother, this time. I declined the call.
“They’re going to hate you for this,” Eric said quietly.
“They already do. They just pretend they don’t.”
The next week passed in a blur of signatures and legal documents. I sat in my lawyer’s office, pen hovering over the final paper.
“Once you sign,” she said, “the house is yours. All renovations and modifications will be at your discretion.”
I signed.
Walking out, I bumped into Denise from work.
“Hey, I was just heading to your office. Did you hear about Sophie and Jaime?”
My stomach tightened. “What about them?”
“Their loan application was denied. They’re devastated. Sophie’s been crying all over Facebook about losing their dream home.”
I forced a sympathetic frown. “That’s terrible.”
“I know. And with the baby coming…” Denise lowered her voice. “Your mom called the office looking for you. Said Sophie really needs her sister right now.”
“I’m sure she does.”
Back at my desk, I opened my email to find the contractor’s quote for renovations. The amount would barely dent my savings. Unlike Sophie and Jaime, I had been smart with my money.
My phone lit up with a text from Elelliana.
Family dinner tonight. Please come. They’re announcing the baby’s gender.
I typed back: Can’t. Working late.
You can’t avoid them forever, she replied.
Watch me.
That evening, I stood in front of my new house. My house. The porch needed work. The paint was peeling. But it was mine. All mine.