3
Midway through work, I was sneaking a break when I overheard Savannah Moore, the office gold digger, bragging to a coworker.
“My boyfriend just moved into Ridgewood Heights.”
I froze. What a coincidence. My dad had bought me a place there too, though I rarely stayed.
Since Chase worked nearby, I’d given him a key to use the place when he worked late. I told him it was rented.
He moved in without a second thought, never considering the rent probably cost more than his monthly salary.
I was just thinking about taking back the keys when Savannah said, “He calls me his lucky girl. Ever since we got together, he won $20
million!”
Everyone around her gasped with envy.
Wait. Ridgewood Heights? $20 million? Could it really be…?
I hesitantly asked, “Does your boyfriend happen to be named Chase?”
Savannah shot me a wary look.
“You know him? Don’t even think about trying to steal him just because he’s rich. He’s way out of your league!”
Of course, it was him!
Chase had been seeing Savannah while we were still together?
Did he really think Savannah was upper–class material?
If my dad knew about this, he’d die laughing.
Savannah always flaunted fake designer bags, rotating them every day of the week. In Chase’s eyes, someone who couldn’t even tell real from fake, Savannah must’ve looked like a wealthy princess.
Talk about a match made in heaven! Two gold diggers perfect for each other!
Talk about a match made in heaven! Two gold diggers, perfect for each other!
Best wishes. Please stay together forever.
That night, Savannah posted on Instagram, a photo of her and Chase with the caption: “No more waiting. The one I’ve been waiting for is here.”
Five minutes later, Chase posted their picture too, with the cringy caption: “Us.”
