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Trying to stand from the bed, my legs shook so violently they struggled to hold my weight. My heart pounding so hard in my chest that I couldn’t catch my breath and I wondered if this was how I’d go; a heart attack. And that’s when my legs collapsed, causing me to hit the floor like a dead weight.
The door flew open; Addison standing over me, phone pressed to her ear. I could tell she was screaming into it, even though I couldn’t hear a word. I blinked and the edges of my vision blurred until I could barely see anything at all.
I thought I heard someone speaking. “Tanner, what have you done?”
Emmy
Icouldn’twaittoget back to my cozy apartment.Coffee, shower, PJs, and a film… in that order.My place wasn’t much, but decent apartments in my price range, in this part of the city, were like gold dust. I was close enough to the center for all the perks that brought, but I also had a garden that was all mine, and it was a price I could afford without having to share.I mean, I’m 24, which is way too old to be sharing.This place gave me my own space and because I worked from home, that was even more important. As work popped into my head, I couldn’t help but think about the book I was currently ghostwriting and what changes I needed to make this week for her final edit, but I was so exhausted I pushed it to the back of my mind until tomorrow.
Unlocking the front door to the building, I pulled my suitcase behind me. I’d been in a hotel for three nights, meeting a new client whose book I was just starting to write. I loved ghostwriting because I got to look inside other people’s memories and mold them into their story, but I hated the practicalities of it. The interviews, the hours and hours of unpicking people’s minds, and all the pointless tales they wanted to share that would never make it into their book. That’s what the last three days had been. Ego, name dropping, the spilling of secrets that weren’t theirs to share, and not much realness or allowing me to dig deep. I was good at my job, and I would get what I needed from them, but it was emotionally exhausting, and I couldn’t wait to close the door to my apartment and let it all fall away.
After grabbing my mail from the communal mailboxes in the entryway, I stepped into the elevator to the first floor, too exhausted to carry my bags up the stairs. As I unlocked the door, I took a deep breath, pausing while the comfort of being home settled the whirling thoughts in my head. Closing the door, I threw my keys in the pot on the side table, then placed my case down, laying my coat over the top of it.
“Shelly, I’m home.”
Silence.
I wasn’t sure what I expected Shelly to say, given that he was a tiny tortoise that was housed in a wooden enclosure in the corner of my living room. I walked over to check on him and feed him his favorite—a dandelion—to apologize for leaving him in the hands of Mrs. Leason, who lived across the hall and kept an eye on the place when I had to go away. Shelly looked livid that I’d left him, but maybe I was reading too much into his facial expressions, although I was sure he smiled when I stroked my fingers over his shell.
“Did you miss me? What exciting things have you been up to while I’ve been away? No wild parties, I hope?” I laughed at my own joke while I flipped through my mail. Junk, bills, a non-disclosure agreement I needed to sign for a new book I’d been commissioned to write, so they could be sure I wouldn’t go telling people I was responsible for their best-seller. And, finally, I found a letter from the owners of the building. Leaving the other mail on the side, I took the letter over to the coffeemaker, filled it with beans, and flicked it on. While I listened to the beans grinding, I opened the manila envelope.
Dear resident,
We would like to inform you that we have sold the building. You have 28 days to vacate your apartment. We would be happy to discuss alternative arrangements in other parts of the city and we thank you for choosing to rent with us.
Sincerely,
Taylor-Morgan Rentals.
What the hell?I felt my stress levels soar, as panic flooded my body.What am I going to do?I worked freelance, didn’t have a steady income, my credit rating was horrendous, and my cards maxed out to their limits. I had no savings, no way to find a deposit or a month’s rent in advance, which was what a new rental would need, and didn’t have anyone to help me or anywhere else to stay. I poured my coffee and added a large shot of Bailey’s to take the edge off the shock. This was why I hated renting.Where the hell am I going to go?
I decided to call the one person who would talk me down from the ledge I’d climbed up onto in my mind.Quinn.
“Emmy, how the devil are you? Where are you? I miss you so much. Life isn’t as much fun now that you’re not here.”
Quinn and I had lived in the same apartment block years ago when I’d moved into a flat share. The people I lived with were the worst. Loud, rude, and pretty toxic. I’d met Quinn one night when I was hiding out in the corridor, while party guests snorted drugs in my home. She found me tear-stained and broken-hearted. We became firm friends, and she had this beautiful way of finding the positive in the shittiest situations.
“I’m going to be homeless, Quinn. What am I going to do?”
“What? What’s happened to your apartment?”
“They’re selling the building. They’ve given us no warning and 28 days’ notice. That can’t be legal, can it?”
As a lawyer, I hoped Quinn would tell me about some secret law that would save me.
“Unfortunately, unless it says something different in your tenancy agreement, 28 days is pretty standard. I’m so sorry, Em. I know how much you love that place. You know you can come and stay here. It’s not much, but I have a spare room and I’d love you to come here until you find somewhere that’s perfect for you. I don’t want you moving into a hovel because you feel like you don’t have any other choice.”
“Thanks, Quinn. I didn’t call so you’d take me in. I just needed to tell someone before I had a breakdown. I’m going to have a run and clear my head, then I’ll start looking, but thanks for the offer. Even if I stay with you for a while, I don’t know how I will ever get myself into a position to move somewhere new. My credit rating, my inconsistent income… it’s all against me. What I need is one huge job that will dig me out of the financial hole I seem to have crawled into, and while ghostwriting pays well, it’s such a slow process that I’m never going to make millions doing it,” I groaned into the phone, hearing how desperate my situation sounded. “I need a miracle, Quinn. You’re into all that manifesting crap. Can you put an order in to the universe for me?”
“One order going into the cosmos tonight for you, Em. And you can stay here for as long as you need. Please don’t panic. The universe needs you to trust it to work its magic if you’re going to get your miracle, so just trust it’s doing its stuff.” I hated how sure she sounded about all this stuff.
“Right, I’d better go break the news to Shelly. He’s going to be demanding another dandelion for all this stress.”
“Okay. Go for a run and let it all settle. It’s big news. Call me later if you need to vent. Love you, Emmy.”
I hung up the phone and tipped the rest of my now cold Bailey’s coffee down the drain, before heading to my room to change into my running gear so I could pound my frustration out on the pavement for a few miles.
It took more than a few miles to calm the uneasy itch under my stressed skin. In fact, it took ten. I ran hard, and I ran fast, breaking my personal best, arriving back at my apartment dripping in sweat, and exhausted. I closed the front door and leaned my hands on my knees while I caught my breath, looking sadly around the space that I would miss coming home to.
