““Still smiling, he leaned toward me. "You're jealous, aren't you?" "Why would I be jealous of her?" "Because she has what you don't." "Which would be what? A bad hairdresser, poor rhythm, or a striking lack of financial sense when it comes to buying clothes?" His smile grew. "Admit it, you're jealous." "I'm not jealous." I straightened the napkins into a tall stack. "Rich people are so arrogant. You all think everyone just sits around coveting your wealth. Well, my happiness isn't dependent on my account numbers." He gave a mock grunt. "I wasn't talking about Olivia's money. I was talking about me." "Oh." It was suddenly hard to breathe.””