"Or you could hit up your ex-girlfriend. Sharon Pruitt's a maestro of Kunqu opera now—rolling in money. Maybe she'd let you take a spin in a luxury car."
Fred Malone, Melvin's number-one lackey, swooped right in with the jab.
Sharon Pruitt...
She was the girl I'd had a crush on for three years in high school. We never actually dated—there might have been something between us, a kind of unspoken chemistry—but more than anything, we pushed each other to be better. I went from being a scrappy kid in middle school to the top scorer on the college entrance exam, and a lot of that was because of her.
Back then, Melvin had pursued Sharon relentlessly, and she'd turned him down every single time. That was the real reason he was always picking fights with me. But I was on track to be the top scorer in the province, so the school kept me well protected.
"Watch your mouth!"
Melvin was the one who snapped first, glaring at Fred. "Sharon and I have been in close contact lately. I asked her about Jeremy, and she made it very clear—she has nothing to do with him anymore. Doesn't even want to be associated with him."
Fred jumped right in. "I mean, look at the state of him. I wouldn't keep in touch either."
I let out a sigh. I wanted to leave.
People always say class reunions are the ultimate arena for showing off and getting humiliated. I hadn't taken it too seriously. My college classmates and the people from my advanced training courses were all pretty normal, after all.
When I didn't respond, Fred kept going. "Don't be too broken up about losing Sharon. You'll never get behind the wheel of Mr. Gilbert's Bugatti, but my Bentley's worth over three hundred grand—I could lend it to you for a drive. At least then you could say you've been in a luxury car."
I just smiled faintly. "With my job, I'll never get the chance to drive a luxury car."
As if.
If I drove a luxury car today, I'd be trending by tomorrow: Official overseeing Stratford's Metro Line 4 and Old City redevelopment spotted in luxury vehicle.
"Well, at least you know your place."
Fred sneered.
I gave them both a polite smile. "I just came by to see everyone. Now I have, so I won't keep you. I'll head out."
I turned to leave.
But Melvin shot Fred a look, and Fred stepped into my path.
He shoved my shoulder, not bothering with pleasantries. "Where the hell do you think you're going? Mr. Gilbert didn't say you could leave. You stay right here."
I'm six-one and I've never stopped working out. He couldn't budge me an inch. But the disrespect crawled under my skin.
Melvin chimed in. "Don't go, Jeremy. Sharon's coming later. Don't you want to see her?"
"She never said she was coming."
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
"Why would she tell you whether she's coming or not?"
Fred scoffed. "Sharon Pruitt is a Kunqu maestro now. I can't even get her on WhatsApp. Only Mr. Gilbert has the connections to stay in touch with someone like that. What makes a nobody like you think you're even on her radar?"
"Sharon's actually my wife. We have kids—twins, a boy and a girl."
"And I work in city planning. I'm the lead on Metro Line 4 and the Old City redevelopment project."
I laid my cards on the table. Not because I wanted to show off or shut anyone down—I was just tired of the endless humiliation.
The moment the words left my mouth, silence fell over the group. Then they erupted into laughter.
Every single one of them howled like they'd just heard the funniest stand-up bit of their lives, tears practically streaming down their faces.
"You've got the nerve to spin a lie that big? Now I definitely can't let you leave."
"You're staying right here. When Sharon shows up, I want to see you say that to her face."
Melvin was grinning ear to ear.
So much for leaving.
I resigned myself to it. If they were hell-bent on a bitter pill, I'd let them swallow it.
There was no point explaining—they'd never believe me anyway.
Still, I couldn't help myself. "Look at how I'm dressed. Don't I look like someone who works in city government?"
