are telling me a story. It could have nothing to do with me. I’m a blip, a nobody. But I still think I’m
the cause.
“You agreed to the terms of the probation. Three months, I can leave whenever I want. That’s a
good thing,” I remind him. “If I don’t meet your standards, all you have to do is ask me to leave, and
I’m gone. It’s simple for both of us.”
“Simple. I suppose. But it sounds more like you’ve already got a foot out the door. I thought by
accepting this job, you were agreeing to make an effort here. But you’re right. I did agree to it.”
I open my mouth to defend myself, to explain how big it is for me to be here, but the doors
opening distract me. Zach steps off, followed by Jonas, who holds his arm against the door for me. I
step off with a nod and follow Zach to the door on the right. I was so distracted on the elevator, I
didn’t register where we were, but the little placard next to the door gives me a clue3401. The thirty-
fourth floor.
Jonas swings the door open, waving me in. I shuffle in and to the side, letting Zach in. He lowers
my suitcases and shoots me a look. “There are two other available rentals on this floor, but we
thought you might prefer this one. My brother’s wife and her daughter used to live here. He furnished
it for them, and it’s…softer than the other two.” I study the space, the comfortable couch, the rug
under the coffee table. Everything in here is lush and luxurious. The kitchen is five times the size of
the one I had in my place, and much, much nicer.
“This is lovely,” I murmur. And it is. Unable to resist, I circle the couch and sit. It’s nearly
perfect, with just the right amount of bounce to the cushions, the fabric soft yet crisp. I run my fingers
back and forth, enjoying the texture. I’ll be petting this couch a lot.
Conscious of their eyes on me, I stand and clasp my hands awkwardly in front of me. “This will
be fine. Thank you so much.”
Jonas is studying me, head cocked to the side. He nods, more to himself, then moves across the
way bigger than I expected-apartment. “The bedroom is this door, then you have the bathroom. This
room,” he says, placing his hand against the door on the right of the small hallway, “was Mia’s
room.”
“Mia?”
“Evie’s little girl. Evie and Colton got married six weeks ago, so they’ve moved upstairs. This
was her pink princess room. Colton moved everything to his home, but the walls are still pink. If you
