The Twelve Days of Christmas thing. That's my biggest series—where I recommend twelve different romance books with holiday themes and give away copies to followers. I've been planning it for months. Good to know they're not asking me to change my whole content strategy.
"Got it," I nod. "I'm already doing that anyway."
"'The contracted pack will make themselves available for content creation as needed,'" Nash reads, his voice getting slightly higher like he's realizing what he signed up for. "'Including but not limited to photos, videos, live streams, and potential television appearances if opportunities arise.'"
Theo shifts beside me. "Television appearances?"
"Potential television appearances," I correct. "Probably won't happen. But Charlotte likes to keep options open in case some local news station wants to do a feel-good holiday story or whatever."
"Christ," Theo mutters into his black coffee.
"Keep going," I tell Nash. "What else?"
“Advance payment will be processed, but it will take some time to be cleared with the banking process of Oakridge, especially with the holidays. Could take a few days or weeks.”
I frown, feeling insecurity creep up my spine. That familiar anxiety about money and timing and everything going wrong.
"I'll have to think about the repairs then," I say quietly, staring at my half-eaten pancakes. "For the apartment. Since the payment won't come right away."
Theo shifts beside me.
"Actually, about the repairs."
Oh god. What now? Is it worse than I thought? Is my landlord going to sue me? Am I going to be homeless?
"We came by to inspect the damage this morning," he continues, his voice carefully neutral. "While you were getting ready for the doctor's appointment. Called in a contractor friend to take a look."
They did what? When I was getting ready? How did I not notice them bringing a contractor into my apartment? Oh right, I was in my bedroom trying to make myself look presentable and panicking about the doctor visit. They must have been quiet.
"And?" I ask, bracing myself for bad news.
"The water damage is significant," Theo says. "The hardwood is warped beyond repair in most of the main room. There's potential water damage to the ceiling of the apartment below yours. The subflooring might need to be replaced. It'll take about four to five weeks to fix properly."
I gawk at him. Actually gawk. My mouth falls open and I just stare.
"Four to five weeks?" My voice comes out higher than intended. "Like, it won't be done before Christmas at this rate?"
Nash nods, looking apologetic. "Maybe after Christmas. The contractors are overly booked during the holidays. Everyone wants repairs done before family visits and parties. We'd have to wait in line."
Four to five weeks. December would be already half over by the time repairs even start. Add four weeks minimum andthat's into January. After Christmas. After New Year's. After all the festivities I'm supposed to be documenting.
"Wait." I hold up a hand, my brain catching up to the implications. "If they're fixing the apartment for that long—ripping up floors, replacing subflooring, all that construction—doesn't that mean I can't live there?"
The three of them exchange looks. One of those silent Alpha communication moments where they're clearly having a whole conversation without words.
Then they all nod in unison.
"Fuck." I drop my head into my hands. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Okay. Okay. Don't panic. Don't spiral. There are options. There have to be options. I always figure things out. That's what I do—I survive and I figure shit out even when everything seems impossible.
I don't have any savings for a hotel though. That's not an option. My bank account is sitting at exactly $47.32 right now—I checked it this morning out of masochistic curiosity. Hotels in Oakridge Hollow during Christmas season are expensive because of all the tourists who come for the festive atmosphere. Easily $100+ per night for even the crappiest motel on the edge of town. For four weeks minimum that's... I can't even do the math right now. Over $2,800. Might as well be a million dollars for all the good it does me.
Maybe I can ask my friends? I have friends. Good friends who care about me. I'm not completely alone in the world even if it feels like it sometimes.
Hazel would probably help if I asked. She's got that big soft heart and she'd never say no to someone in need. But she just got officially together with her pack—like, just made it Facebook official last week. They're all in that lovey-dovey honeymoon phase where they can't keep their hands off each other. I've seen the Instagram posts. The heart-eyes emojis. Thecouple photos that are cute but also make me feel like a third wheel just looking at them.
And she's getting married. Soon. Like, they're already talking about venue options and dress shopping and cake tastings. She sent me fifteen dress options in our group chat last week asking for opinions. This is her moment. Her happy ending. I'm not going to intrude on that by showing up like 'hey I know you're planning your dream wedding but can I crash on your couch for a month because I flooded my apartment?'
