I drove six hours to check into my new luxury resort, only for the front desk clerk to toss a keycard at my feet.

waves breaking against the cliffs outside. I reminded myself of the leather binder sitting in the passenger seat of my rental car, filled with signed contracts, transfer deeds, and wire confirmations.

I didn’t just have a right to be in this room. I owned the room. I owned the desk Justin was leaning on. I owned the floor the keycard was sitting on.continue reading …