Max strolled through the bright hall leading to Osana’s formal dining room. He’d planned to walk on past until he smelled Leslie’s cinnamon scent gliding from the doorway.
Why did the women in this house have to smell so good?
His sight roamed the lavish décor of white furniture and sparkling crystal.
“This is ridiculous.” Max leaned against the doorframe. “All this s**t in this house. How can someone have so much stuff?”
Leslie slid a white rag over the gold rim of the china plate.
“One person shouldn’t have so much money.” Max walked into the room, the uptight décor reminding him he didn’t belong there. “She’ll never be able to spend it if she lived to be nine hundred. It’s a waste.”
“Yet, you want it.” Leslie snickered, wiping a porcelain mug. “Isn’t that a contradiction?”
“What’
