“Actually,” I said, raising my voice slightly, “I’d love to hear more about the house, Sophie. The renovations must be almost done.”
Sophie brightened. “Oh my God, yes. The contractors have been amazing. They’re painting the nursery this gorgeous shade of lavender.”
“Contractors?” Jaime interrupted, returning from his call. His face had gone pale. “What contractors?”
Sophie frowned. “The ones doing the renovations before we move in. You said the sellers arranged everything.”
Jaime tugged at his collar. “Right. Right. Of course.”
I sipped my wine, watching him squirm. He had not arranged anything. He could not have, since he did not own the house. I wondered how long he could keep up the lie.
“Show everyone the nursery photos,” Sophie urged.
Jaime’s phone rang again. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
I followed him around the corner of the house, staying just close enough to hear.
“I know I’m late on the payment,” he hissed into the phone. “The house fell through, okay? But I’ve got another plan. No, please. Just give me two more weeks.”
I stepped into view. He jumped and ended the call.
“Were you listening?” he snapped.
“Calm is a funny thing, isn’t it?” I leaned against the wall. “One minute you’re on top of the world. The next…”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” I smiled. “Just thinking about how quickly things can change. Houses slip away. Debts pile up.”
“What do you know?”
“I know Sophie would be devastated to learn about your gambling. Almost as devastated as I was when…”
“There you are.” Sophie waddled around the corner. “What are you two talking about?”
“The house,” I said smoothly. “Jaime was just telling me about all the special features. The bay window. The vintage fireplace. The original hardwood floors.”
Sophie beamed. “We’re so lucky.”
“The master bedroom has this amazing crown molding that’s being replaced,” I cut in.
Jaime’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? The contractors are replacing the crown molding and the hardwood floors. Even the vintage fireplace is going. Gone by Thursday.”
Sophie’s face fell. “But we chose that house because of those features. Jaime, you said nothing was being changed.”
He shot me a panicked look. “There must be some mistake.”
“No mistake.” I pulled out my phone, showing them the contractor’s latest photos. “See? They’re making good progress.”
“But why would the sellers…” Sophie’s voice trailed off as she studied the images. “Wait. Jaime. That’s not our house.”
“Of course it is,” he said quickly. “It’s just the angle.”
“No, look at the address in the background.” She zoomed in on one photo. “That’s the Victorian we lost. Why do you have renovation photos of a house we don’t own?”
I watched the color drain from Jaime’s face as his whole flimsy story started to collapse.
“Someone else bought it,” he stammered. “The loan… we couldn’t…”
“Then why are you acting like we’re moving in?” Sophie’s voice rose. “Why are there contractors? Why did you let me plan a housewarming party?”
Other guests were starting to stare. My mother hurried over. “What’s going on?”
“I’d like to know that too,” Sophie said, tears streaming down her face.
Jaime opened his mouth, closed it, then turned and walked quickly toward his car.
“Jaime!”
Sophie tried to follow, but stumbled. My mother caught her arm.
“What did you say to him?” my mother demanded.
I shrugged. “Just the truth. For once.”
Sophie sank into a nearby chair, one hand on her stomach. “I don’t understand. We picked out paint colors. We measured for curtains. How could he lie about this?”
I caught Eric’s eye across the yard. He nodded slightly. My cue to leave before the real storm hit.
“Happy birthday, Elelliana,” I called out, heading for the gate. “Thanks for having me.”