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What can I say?”
“Nothing.” Andi shook her head, but her lips twitched. “You
can say nothing. Just open it. Please. I’m going back to
dusting.”
She picked up the small white duster and moved off into the
shop, tackling ornaments and decks of cards and stuff that
probably wasn’t even dusty. Andi was very tidy, very clean,
and uncompromising in her orderliness. The fact that Dani was
less than orderly often drove Andi nuts.
Dani grabbed the stack of mail and thumbed through it until
she found the envelope Andi was talking about. It was thin,
and when she tore it open, there was only a single sheet of
paper in there, all typed, with a scrawling signature at the
bottom. Dani’s landlord was a dick at the best of times. A guy
in his early sixties who had been divorced four times—go
figure—and who’d actually gotten property and money from
some of his ex-wives. The building Dani had her store in was
one of the properties. Jacob Exceller—that couldn’t be his real
freaking name—had been her landlord for two years now and
it was a less than wonderful experience, but so far, he’d been
reasonable enough.
As Dani studied the letter, quickly scanning the typed lines,
she realized his reasonableness was at an end. She realized she
must have made some sort of noise when Andi appeared at her
side suddenly, the sound nothing short of alarmed.
“What is it?” Andi peered eagerly over Dani’s shoulder,
trying to read the letter. Dani dropped it on the counter and
waited. “What the hell?” Andi muttered after she’d spent a few
minutes reading. “Can he do that? Can he seriously double the
rent just because he’s giving six months’ notice?”
