The thought distracts me long enough that I don’t see the rock in my path. A half-second later, I’m airborne.
I brace myself for the fall, but I land in a huge puddle, and my glasses go flying. My forearms and knees take the brunt of my fall, and holy shit, it hurts.
Groaning, I roll over onto my side, which dumps my bag in the water.
“Oh, bruh. Look at you,” a voice booms. “Haha, shit, that was quite a dive. The Russian judge gives you a two.”
Large hands grab me under my armpits. Vance drags me the last few steps to my apartment building and deposits me by the mailboxes near the foyer, where I slump to the floor in pain.
He chuckles. “And I thought you were mousy-looking when you were bone dry. You look like a drowned rat now. Damn, you’re bleeding everywhere. Hope that doesn’t stain.”
You’re a stain on humanity, Vance.
Shivering, I glance up at him just in time for him to snap a photo of me with his phone. “Wha—what are you doing?”
“This is too funny to not get a pic.”
My eyes sting, and I bite my inner cheek so I don’t cry. That would probably make this asshole’s day. My general response to bullies is to hide, but there’s nowhere to go. He’s blocking the path to my apartment.
Vance scratches his chin. “Listen, I’m glad I caught you. I have a form I need you to sign.”
Anything to make you go away.
I sniffle and nod. When he hands me a pen and clipboard, I can’t quite make out the text at the top, but when I squint, I see the signatures of the other tenants. Dang. My glasses are probably at the bottom of the parking lot puddle right now.
I hold it away to read the print.Notice to Vacate.Oh my God, no.
He taps my soggy shoe with his black boot. “It confirms I told you, personally, that you have until the end of your lease to move.”
My lease ends in a few weeks. If I had to guess, it’s about thirty days away, and this asshole waited until the last minute to give me warning. Reluctantly, I sign it.
His smug grin grows. “I’m selling the building. Gonna send my mom to Boca for a little rest and relaxation. Get her out of my hair, you know?” He snatches the clipboard out of my hand. “Be sure to clean up your blood, m’kay? Don’t want the new owners to complain I left a mess.”
He tucks the clipboard under his arm and jogs to his car.
I sit there, shivering, staring after his taillights. I think about what Jace said at the wedding—tell her to sell it, the market’s hot—and a fresh wave of humiliation washes over me that has nothing to do with the puddle.
It took me months to find this apartment. How am I supposed to find a new place to live in weeks?
Back in my apartment, I stand in the shower under the hot water until my trembling stops. Afterward, I grab a bottle of antiseptic and dab the scrapes on my knees and forearms.
I can do this. I’ll make soup for my friends, and it’ll take my mind off this dumpster fire of a day. It’s fine.
An hour later, I cross my small kitchen to grab the chopped herbs before I dump them in with the hamburger meat on the stove. I’d been so excited to host tonight, and now every small movement hurts like the dickens.
By the time the soup is done, I’m ready to collapse on my futon, but someone knocks on the door. Gingerly, I limp across my apartment to answer. I take a deep breath to compose myself as I flip open the lock.
When my friends see me, their matching smiles morph into frowns.
“Are you okay?” Baylee is the first one through the door. She plunks her casserole dish on the counter and returns to me. “What happened?”
I must look worse than I thought. “I took a spill outside.”
Paige joins her best friend and juts out her bottom lip. “Did you break your glasses?”
I finger the tape in the corner. “Unfortunately.” I spot Honey waiting in the doorway. “Please come in. Make yourselves at home.”
Honey holds up a bottle. “I brought some wine. I can’t drink right now, but I thought you guys might enjoy it.”
