The spectacular set visit went for a hundred grand to a nineteen-year-old social media influencer who would probably gain another million followers when she livestreamed her day. I was proud of her for not taking the easy way like one of her online rivals who’d recently leaked a sex tape.

By the time I retired my hammer at the end of the auction, Ludington’s had raised close to a million dollars for Senator Rutger. Our commission would be fifteen percent of that. Someday soon, I was going to hold an event like this for stroke research, and I was going to wave the fee.

Diya beamed as I came off the stage. “The night’s a win.”

Trey stood next to her, his hands in his pockets. “Not enough. To make it, we’d need to bring in this much every single week.”

“I’ll keep that in mind going forward. I was serious about the buyout. Let’s talk some realistic numbers.” I would come up with the money somehow. “Then we can sign papers.” I wanted everything in writing before he changed his mind.

He opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut and took off for some last-chance schmoozing with the senator, who was leaving.

Diya flashed me an apologetic smile, then scurried after him.

I’d been the first to arrive, and I was the last one to leave, two hours after the auction ended. Diya and Trey were long gone. They left with the senator, who offered them a ride in his limousine. I made sure nothing was left behind at the hotel before I called an Uber.

The plain yellow house Trey, Diya and I rented on a narrow, one-way street was a century younger than its neighbors, squeezed between two regular-size homes by a sharp-eyed developer. When we’d first moved in, I’d thought the barebones style was cute, my first adult digs. Now the narrow house looked stuck and out of place, wedged in there, trapped.

Trey was wrapped around Diya on the living room couch when I walked in.

They’d rushed home to be together. Because they were a couple. I hated that it hurt. “Hey.”

Diya untangled herself and offered me the bowl of popcorn. “ABC is running a horror marathon. Want to hang out?”

We had to talk, but I had nothing left, no energy to pretend that we were all great friends. No energy to renegotiate business. “I’m beat. Could we have a meeting first thing in the morning?”

Tomorrow was another day.

I climbed the steps upstairs. Stopped at the top of the landing. “I’m giving you guys notice. I’m moving out as soon as I find my own place.”

It was long past time. Violet was right.

Diya half came off the couch. “Em…”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. I need sleep.”

I headed to the back room and closed the door behind me.