Page 56 of Something Like That

She stared at her phone, waiting for him to send a funny gif or another emoji showing he was kidding or embarrassed or didn’t mean it. But nothing more came. She checked the network strength, because surely, she’d slipped into a blind spot. When the signal strength increased, his retraction would come flying in. She had slightly more than half on the signal strength.

Five minutes passed. Nothing.

She stood and wandered back into the waiting area. Maybe the signal would be better out there. She waited a few minutes. Still nothing.

Someone rapped on the door. She started and glanced at her watch. It was still twenty minutes before opening. She slid her phone onto the counter and walked over to the door. Peeked through the blinds.

A courier stood on the doorstep. She unlocked the door and pulled it open. The little bell tinkled. The sound always made her smile.

“Hi there,” she said, holding the door open with her hip.

“Morning.” The courier thrust a letter size envelope toward her.

She took it. The sender showed it was from a bank, but not the one they dealt with. Weird. She signed the electronic signature thing he shoved at her. He turned and hurried back to his truck without another word.

Locking the door again, she turned the envelope over and over in her hands. It was addressed to the clinic. Double weird. She opened it and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

Dear tenant,

We regret to inform you…

With every word she read, her heart sank further and further south, until it was lodged somewhere near the earth’s core. She read the letter three times and still, the words didn’t register. How could they be getting evicted? They had a lease. And they’d done all the renovations to make the space perfect for their business. And they had a lease. A five-year lease. How was this possible?

She sank into the chair at the front desk, the letter still clutched in her hand. There had to be some sort of mistake. When Janelle got here, they’d get to the bottom of it and everything would be fine. It would be fine.

Chapter Twelve

“I’m sorry, but there isn’t much you can do.” Sharon Camden, their incredibly expensive lawyer, leaned forward, resting her forearms on her massive desk. “The fact that the building was sold in a foreclosure makes your lease agreement null and void.”

Alex looked at Janelle, whose face had turned an ashy color, and then back at their attorney. “How is that possible?”

Sharon tented her fingers and tilted her head in what she probably thought was a comforting gesture. Newsflash, it wasn’t. “There was no non-disturbance clause in your lease agreement. That means the lessee isn’t protected in all cases, including foreclosure.”

Janelle reached over and grabbed Alex’s hand, giving her fingers a squeeze. While the gesture was sweet, she still felt like she was going to throw up.

“How did this get missed?” Janelle’s voice had a hard edge to it. Apparently, she was over the shock and was on to pissed off. “In the original lease agreement, I mean?”

Sharon shook her head. “I don’t know. Since I wasn’t the one who looked over the initial contract, I can’t say. I’m sorry.”

“So, there’s really nothing we can do?” The defeat in Janelle’s voice made Alex want to cry. The back of her eyes felt hot, but she blinked hard. She would not cry. Not in front of the lawyer.

Sharon looked back and forth between them. “Unfortunately, no.”

“Well, okay then.” Janelle patted the edge of Sharon’s desk and stood. Alex scrambled to her feet, her brain fuzzy and hollow. She felt like a zombie, shuffling through the motions.

“Thank you.” Janelle nodded to Sharon and turned and walked out of the office. Alex followed on autopilot. Denial continued to chase itself around in her mind. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.

Janelle pressed the button on the elevator with more force than was probably necessary, jabbing it a couple of times for good measure. Shocked silence stretched between them. The elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open. The thing was packed, but Janelle squeezed in. Alex followed.

Although the law office was only on the tenth floor, the trip down to the lobby seemed to take forever. The elevator stopped on every floor, people shuffling in and out. It was stifling, the air close and hot and altogether unpleasant.

With every second, her queasiness worsened. Her stomach felt like it was in a row boat, sloshing around in the middle of a hurricane. Bile crept up her throat and saliva flooded her mouth.

The doors opened and the people spilled out. She took a giant gulp of the slightly fresher air and hurried into the lobby. But it was too late.

“I’m gonna be sick.” She raced for the bathroom, thankful there was one on this side of the lobby.

She barreled into one of the stalls. Managed to close the door behind her before everything came rushing back up. She emptied her stomach contents into the toilet. Not that there was a lot. She’d been so stressed, all she’d managed to consume since the letter arrived was a cup of tea and some water. The remains of her oatmeal breakfast came up, too, though.