Carla Summers belonged to the elite, la crème de la crème, as some would put it. And if her mannerisms were any indication, the woman was rarely ever told no. She was an entitled trust fund baby, with more power among her circle than she should probably have — thanks to her late grandfather’s influence.
“Well, if it isn’t the gold digger herself,” the woman let out, her tone biting and full of unmistakable venom.
“Well, if it isn’t the haughty trust fund baby,” Simone rolled her eyes, not quite in the mood to deal with her.
“Why, you little…!” The woman all but exploded, having no doubt expected Simone to be meek and all smiles, even as she took insults. “Know your place.”
That one stung, if Simone was honest, but she didn’t let it show on her face, and had a ready response for that.
