“Invite the girl who cleans the bathrooms, but tell her to come dressed up, just to see what ridiculous outfit she shows up in,” Chloe Mitchell said, her laughter echoing through the marble room.
Ava Covington did not laugh immediately, looking out the grand window of her sprawling mansion in Nashville, Tennessee. Outside, a young woman in a faded denim uniform named Lisa Davis was mopping the long patio.
“That is actually a brilliant idea,” Ava replied with a sharp smile as she raised her crystal glass. “It will be the absolute highlight of my fifty-first birthday celebration.”
Harper Knowles and Savannah Abbott let out nervous chuckles, the kind shared only among wealthy elites over expensive drinks. These four women met every Tuesday to gossip about marriages, brag about luxury vacations, and pretend that cruelty was a form of sophisticated humor.
Lisa had been working at the Covington estate for three full years, arriving at dawn to scrub grand hallways where nobody ever bothered to greet her. She was twenty-eight years old, with striking hazel eyes and a quiet, unbothered demeanor that secretly infuriated Ava for reasons she could not quite explain.
“Lisa, come over here for a moment,” Ava called out loudly from the breezy gallery.
The young woman set her mop aside and walked into the grand room with calm steps.
“Do you need me to fetch something for you, Mrs. Covington?” Lisa asked politely.
Ava pulled a cream-colored card with elegant gold lettering from her designer purse.
“My birthday gala is this coming Saturday evening, and I have decided to extend an invitation to you,” Ava announced with a fake smile.
Lisa looked at the card, showing neither excitement nor confusion.
“Thank you very much, Mrs. Covington,” Lisa said smoothly.
