“Kaitlyn, I am so glad you picked up,” Gillian said as if we were in the middle of a pleasant conversation. “Paige just showed me your little beach cottage and it looks quite exciting.”
The house was a massive estate on the California coast, yet Gillian always knew how to make achievements sound small and quaint. She told me they would arrive tomorrow and take the master suite while Paige took the room with the balcony.
“I do not remember inviting anyone to move into my home,” I responded firmly. Gillian sighed as if I were being a difficult child and told me that family did not need invitations.
She instructed me to make sure the linens were turned down and warned me not to use fabric softener because Paige had sensitive skin. I laughed because her sense of entitlement was so absolute that it was almost comical.
“I do not have a housekeeper,” I told her. Gillian paused for a moment before suggesting that perhaps I should hire one immediately.
She told me that if I had a problem with the arrangement, I was free to stay somewhere else since I liked being independent. I smiled because I knew she was lying about the entire situation.