Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I rub my forehead as my head begins to pound. Fuck. “I, um, I guess two thirty will have to work. You’re sure there’s no availability before then? Because the letter said I have to respond within two weeks from the postmark or they’ll just file against me in civil court.” I think. Maybe it was in criminal court. Shit. Am I going to be a felon over this?
“I’m sure. But I have you in for June first with Mr. Dixon at two thirty. You’ll get an automated reminder via text the morning before your appointment. Can I do anything else for you?”
Yeah, just have him look at the damn letter and tell me what to do. “No, that’s it.”
“Great. We’ll see you then. Have a great rest of your day.”
“You, too.” I sigh, squeezing my temples with my free hand.
Gray’s eyes bore holes into the side of my face, but I don’t acknowledge it. I know he overheard half of the conversation, but I don’t know if I should explain what it was about. It’s really none of his business, and maybe he won’t bother to ask. It would be like him not to care.
I peek at him out of the corner of my eye.
“Are you all right over there?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
He grins. “Just an everyday call about getting taken to court, right?”
I sigh, dropping my hands to my sides in frustration. “Do you know what? I still hate you.”
He only laughs in response.
I pace a small circle and try not to rip my hair out. I can’t take this. I can’t have this lording over my head like the ghost from hellationship’s past. How hard is it to look at a letter and figure out how to legally shut it down?
“Can I point something out to you?” he asks.
“No.”
He chuckles again. “I forgot how feisty you can be.”
“That was your first mistake.”
“I’m going to point it out anyway,” he says. “I told you that I have a therapist. That’s very personal to me, but I told you.”
My feet stop moving and I look at him. He’s right. He did tell me that. But I didn’t ask him to, and I didn’t expect him to. And I didn’t ask him about the picture aside from where he wanted it placed. So no bones.
“I didn’t ask,” I say.
“No, you didn’t, and I doubt that you would’ve.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you …” He shakes his head and shoves off my car. “You know what? Never mind.”
He adjusts his bag on his shoulder and starts to walk away, but the idea of leaving it like this between us again—irritated and awkward—only makes me feel worse. It’s another problem that I’d almost resolved unwinding.
“Wait,” I say, glancing around to ensure no one is within earshot of us. “I’m sorry.”
He turns slowly. I don’t have to see his smirk to know he’s smirking. I can tell by the cockiness with which he moves.
“It’s only fair that I apologize.” I throw my pride and cares to the wind. “You were the bigger man last time. I can suck it up this round.”
His eyes darken, and he stops himself from speaking by biting his bottom lip.
I move right along. “I received a letter telling me that I’ll be sued for twenty thousand dollars over rent and damage to an apartment that I haven’t lived in for years. Why haven’t I lived there, you ask? Because my boyfriend, whose name was on the lease, kicked me out so he could move another woman in.” A quick breath fills my lungs. “Audrey knew an attorney who was going to give me a free consult, but he just canceled. So it looks like I’m selling feet pictures or a kidney because I’m not farting in jars.”
He chokes back a laugh.
“I’m at my wits’ end,” I say, frazzled.
Gray clears his throat and runs a hand across his mouth, dragging a finger along his bottom lip. “First of all, that doesn’t make sense. How can you be on the hook?”
“They say because I paid the landlord a couple of times and the trash service was in my name while I lived there. Apparently, that makes me somehow responsible for back rent and damages that Trace and his very young, very beautiful personal trainer girlfriend left when they moved out.”
Gray sets his bag on my trunk.
I groan, pushing on my eyeballs to keep them from tearing up. The pressure of this scenario is hitting a boiling point, and I don’t know how much more I can take. I can’t think too much about it or I’ll break down. I don’t have the infrastructure for support like Gianna or Audrey have with their families. It’s just me over here. At times like this, that reality hits me hard … like an ice pick to the heart.