Broke Girl? My Dad's Convoy Just Pulled Up

Georgia's POV

The day before spring break, Cole Bennett asks me, red in the face, if he can borrow my empty place up in the hills for one night.

I figure he's planning a birthday party for me, so I don't think twice about handing over the code to the estate.

I've already decided that night is when I'll tell him who I really am.

Eight o'clock on my birthday, I push open the brass doors of the estate, worth millions by themselves.

Music blasts through the great room. The place is packed with people from school, all of them craning their necks, gushing about how gorgeous the house is.

I hold back a grin, ready to go find him and see what he's got planned.

Then I see her in the middle of the crowd, everyone crowding around her, glasses raised.

Sloane Bishop.

"Everyone, raise your glasses to Sloane! She's finally letting us see what a real mansion looks like!"

Sloane stands in the middle of it all in a designer dress, holding her glass, soaking up the attention.

"Oh, everyone just relax and have fun! Cloudcrest's basically just some weekend toy my dad got me. Break whatever you want, I can afford to replace it." Sloane laughs behind her hand, and there's no hiding how pleased with herself she looks.

So this isn't my birthday party at all?

I remember how he'd stumbled over his words a few days ago, asking me for this favor. My family's paid for his tuition for ten years. I've loved him quietly for three, and in that moment, I couldn't say no to him.

I thought this shy, awkward guy was finally coming into his own, so I handed him the code to Cloudcrest right then and there, no hesitation.

Tonight I'd tell him who I really am.

I'm Nathaniel Mercer's only daughter. My father's a real estate and tech mogul, one of the richest men in the country, always near the top of the Forbes list.

To keep Cole from feeling insecure about the gap between us, I've spent three years hiding how much money my family has. I drive a beater car, work two jobs, eat in the dining hall with him, grab sandwiches between classes, and every once in a while treat him to something nice.

He knows my family has money. He just doesn't know how much.

I already told my dad tonight was the night, that I'd finally introduce Cole to the whole family as my boyfriend.

But what greets me isn't Cole's arms around me, or a candle-lit cake. It's a crowd celebrating around some woman who's moved into my house like it's hers.

Champagne stains cover the floor, crushed macarons everywhere, and somebody's stubbed a cigarette out right on the keys of my limited-edition Steinway.

My chest tightens. Blood rushes straight to my head.

The crowd erupts again, another round of fawning gasps.

"Oh my god, Sloane, you've been holding out on us! This is Cloudcrest! I heard just one of the chandeliers in here is worth like half a million!"

"Right? She's always so down to earth at school, who knew she was loaded like this!"

"I can't believe we actually go to school with her. We're so lucky."

I stand at the door, shaking all over.

This house is mine.

My dad gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday.

And Sloane has the nerve to stand here and tell everyone it's some toy her father bought her?

"Who let you people in here?" I stride forward, shouting.

The noisy room goes dead silent for a second.

Every eye in the place lands on me. I'd rushed back to catch Cole's surprise, so I never changed, and I'm still wearing that old, faded T-shirt.

Sloane spots me. She freezes for a second, then contempt flashes across her face.

"Georgia? I don't remember inviting you. How'd you even get in here? What, you heard we were having a party and figured you'd come mooch some leftovers off us?"

The crowd bursts out laughing.

"God, Georgia, watch it, don't track your broke ass all over Sloane's floor."

"Where's security? Are they just letting anybody wander in off the street now?"

I stare her down, teeth clenched. "Sloane. This house is mine. Get out. Now. Take your trash friends with you."

That sets off an even louder wave of laughter.

"Is she for real? Has Georgia completely lost her mind? Is she seriously living in some fantasy world right now?"

"Your house? You couldn't afford a single brick of this driveway."

Sloane struts up to me and jabs a finger into my shoulder. "Georgia, are you delusional? Do you have any idea what this place is worth? Twenty million dollars. Have you ever even seen ten grand in your life? And you think you can pull this stunt on me?"

I knock her hand off my shoulder, ice in my voice. "You're saying this is your house? Fine. Then you know what's carved into the underside of the Steinway's lid in the living room, right? G.E.M. Those are my initials. Georgia Ellis Mercer."