“What?” I shout as I take the paper. Logan hovers over my shoulder, reading the notice at the same time. At least he knows I wasn’t lying now.
It takes me a few tries to process the words on the bright red paper. “We’re being evicted,” I whisper in shock. “How can that be? We’ve been paying our rent on time. We haven’t done anything to the property that would get us evicted. We forgot trash day that one time, but I don’t think that would be cause for eviction.”
From over my shoulder, Logan points at a sentence and says, “Your landlord hasn’t been paying the mortgage. You have one week to find a new place.”
“A week?” How did I miss that? I scan the paper again, but nothing is making sense. “So because our landlord is an irresponsible idiot, we get punished? How is that fair?”
Logan pulls me into a hug, taking the paper from me to read some more. “Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. Banks don’t care about the people living in the house, they just care about the bottom line.”
I snuggle into his warmth. “But a week? That seems short to me.”
“Yeah, how can we possibly find a place to stay in a week in the middle of the semester? All the student housing is full by now,” Adalyn adds.
“There is a buyer already interested in the space,” Logan says. “The bank is probably opting for a short sale in the hopes to get the money off their hands.”
“Can’t we talk to the bank? Maybe they want to rent it to us.”
Logan shakes his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, banks aren’t really into the landlord business.” He hands the paper back to Adalyn. “You two need to start searching for another place to stay because in a week, you won’t be living here anymore.”
Adalyn lies back on the porch, the warm winter’s day not affecting her need to retreat back inside. “This is crap.”
“Who can I send a nasty gram to?” I ask, my mind already starting to type out the letter. It would start with something like, “You piece of crap son of a bitch asshole . . .” Yeah, that sounds about right.
“You can send one to me,” Logan jokes as he releases me and sits down on the porch next to Adalyn.
“That’s not helpful.” I run my hands over my face and think. “I don’t have time to search for a new place right now. I have clinicals all week, and I have to study. Plus, I have volunteering hours at the animal shelter. I can’t cancel on them again.”
“You can stay with me until you find a place,” Logan suggests.
I put my hand on my hip, ready to disagree. “You live in a three-bedroom apartment with six men. You sleep in bunk beds. I’m not staying with you.”
He shrugs. “Don’t judge my living situation. Rent is cheap as fuck.” It’s true, he pays two hundred dollars a month for everything. EVERYTHING. It’s not fair. Although, I don’t think I would ever shack up with that many people in such a small space.
“Ugh.” I sit on the sidewalk, not minding the cold cement against my scrub-covered ass. “Looks like I’ll be staying up late, looking for a place.”
“You’re good at stuff like this, Em, you’ll find a place. I have no doubt about it.” Logan winks at me.
I can’t help but agree with him. I’m good at stuff like this, but for others, not for me. I’ve always been the nurturing one in my group of friends, making sure everyone is taken care of. But when it comes to me, when it comes to putting myself first, I’m freaking terrible at it. I’m more likely to by a cup of coffee for a friend so they can stay awake in class, than myself. Perhaps it’s a major flaw that I never do anything for myself.
But hey, I guess that will make me a good nurse, right? Always taking care of others?
Chapter Two
TUCKER
“Jameson!”
My last name rings through the bare bones of the house I’ve been constructing on for the past month. My first managing project and I can already feel my boss breathing down my neck about the timeline and when we’re supposed to finish.
Rolling up the plans to the house, I turn to see Julius, the beer-belly dickhead, my boss, waddling toward me. It should be comical watching the veins popping angrily in his neck. Should.
Fuck, this isn’t going to be good.
“Why the hell are we spending an extra two thousand dollars on an outside electrician when we have one in-house?”
Julius Parsnip. Yup, that’s his name. I’ve been working for him since I was a teenager. Think of your worst nightmare when it comes to a contractor and times it by ten. That’s Julius. He has zero credibility when it comes to his business and the only reason he keeps getting hired for job after job is because of the people—like myself—holding his company together.
Julius is one of those managers who sits back, drinks beers, and dabbles in plans every once in a while, making a big fucking deal about things when the mood strikes him.
Looks like it’s one of those moments.
“Manny is on paternity leave,” I answer, keeping my voice calm. Julius has no idea about his day-to-day operations, so his lack of knowledge regarding Manny doesn’t surprise me.
“Fucking fathers,” he mutters to himself and shakes his head. Boss of the year right here. “You could have waited for him to come back.”
I put my hands in my pockets, trying to calm the flex in my chest, the tension building in my shoulders. “Not possible. If I waited for Manny, the entire timeline would have been thrown off and we would be behind. I had counters coming in and the electricity had to be done before I could install them. I didn’t have a choice.”
Fuming now, his face looking like an ugly shade of purple, he spits at me, “These are things you need to bring to my attention. I could have thrown Danny in there to do the electricals.”
“Danny is still an apprentice, and that goes against code.”
“Fuck code. We’d have Manny sign off on it.”
I run my hand over my face, knowing I won’t get anywhere with this man, so I concede, my jaw tight as I say, “Yeah, next time I’ll check with you.”
“Fucking right you will. Just because you’re managing projects now doesn’t mean you manage the entire company. All decisions must be run through me.” He wobbles on his feet as he points at himself, the smell of booze now making its way to me. Yup, all decisions must go through the alcoholic. Smart, so fucking smart. “You’re lucky I don’t take this out of your paycheck.”
I try not to laugh at that comment because last time Julius tried to charge a project manager for something “gone wrong”, HR backed up the employee, ensuring Julius understood how that was not possible.
But hey, empty threats are one of the cornerstones of the perfect manager, right?
Not wanting to indulge in any more conversation with this man, especially since he’s drunk and stumbling over his own two feet, I ask, “Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?”
Standing tall, well as tall as he can—I still tower over him with my six-foot-three height—he says, “No, that’s it. Check with me before you do something like that again. Got it?”