Hope You Can Handle It

Summary

"This place was designed by a big name, you know. Fully integrated smart home. I spent fifty grand on the renovation alone."

Brenda, my landlady, stood beside the Italian leather sofa I’d paid four thousand dollars for, spitting as she spoke.

Across from her, a well-dressed young couple surveyed my living room, their eyes wide with admiration.

"Brenda, this style is just fantastic," the young woman gushed, running her hand lovingly over the quartz countertop of my kitchen island—a piece I’d had shipped from Italy. "The open-plan kitchen, this island... it’s exactly our aesthetic!"