Page 19 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

Seth leaned over my shoulder, reading the article with a smirk. “She really thought she was gonna make it, huh?” he said, shaking his head. “Big-time luxury real estate in New York? Did she think she was going to get her own reality show?”

I shot him a look. “She comes from real estate. It makes sense.”

Seth snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s not how it played out, was it? She shot too high and missed. Classic small-town girl overreaching. Should’ve stayed in her lane. She always acted like she was better than us back then. I remember when she left. She acted like she was moving on up and we were all shit.”

She might not have been too far off when it came to my brother. His shitty attitude made my skin prickle with irritation. I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake it off, but the feeling stuck. I didn’t know Portia well back in the day, but I never got the feeling she thought she was better than anyone. It was just that Seth had been a shitty boyfriend.

“Her lane?” I echoed, a bit sharper than I intended.

“You know what I mean. She thought she was hot shit.”

“Because she moved to New York?”

Seth just shrugged. “I mean, come on, Dean. You know how it goes. Some people just aren’t built for that world. You don’t just waltz into Manhattan and expect to start selling million-dollar penthouses.”

I stayed quiet for a beat. “Her dad was the best realtor this town’s ever seen,” I finally said. “If anyone had the background to make it, it was her.”

“Yeah, in this town,” Seth countered. “Different beast out there.”

I exhaled slowly and bit back the response I wanted to give him, that at least she had tried something. She had gone after a goal. Seth just sat on his ass and annoyed people.

“You don’t think she had a shot?” I asked.

Seth laughed, shaking his head. “If she did, she wouldn’t be back here, would she?”

I didn’t answer. I forced myself to actually read the article.

Portia Langley Returns Home After Leaving High-Profile Real Estate Dream Behind.

The article painted a picture of her as a woman who had gone off to chase a dream that never quite materialized. It detailed how she’d left to pursue luxury real estate, following in her father’s footsteps, only to return after failing to make a name for herself.

I dragged a hand over my face. What was going on with the news these days? Then again, the whole damn town would eat this up. That was the problem with little places like this. There wasn’t enough excitement, so when something minor happened, it turned into an actual article.

People would be talking about it for the next week or two unless something else happened. People would remember every detail about her childhood and twist it into something big and juicy.

“Think she saw it?” I asked.

The woman who’d shown me the article shrugged and took her phone back. “If she did, she hasn’t commented.”

I sighed. “Yeah. She wouldn’t. She’s smarter than that. She knows how you people are. Scavengers.”

Portia seemed like a tough cookie, but I doubted she wanted to air her failures for everyone to see. This article would cut her deeply. She might bury it beneath that polished exterior of hers and act like it didn’t matter, even though it did.

“You sound like you actually feel bad for her,” Seth said.

“Maybe I do. So what?”

He scoffed. “Dean, she left. You remember that, right? She didn’t just pack up and go—she ran. Thought she was too good for this place.”

“Maybe she just wanted more,” I said. “Sounds to me like people are jealous.”

I shot the woman a look. She just rolled her eyes.

“And maybe she should’ve known better,” Seth shot back. “This town is where she belongs. Always has been.”

Maybe Portia thought she had to leave to make something of herself. Success looked different for everyone.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t talk too much shit,” I said.