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“I can’t afford a rent increase like that,” I told her honestly. “I mean, if it were maybe a hundred bucks—”
“Fine. We’ll arrange a time to do a walkthrough. You’ll be out August first, then?”
I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. I’d been the best tenant I could for the past two years, and she was acting like she couldn’t wait to get me out.
“I don’t have anywhere to go—”
“I get it, Mylee, I really do,” she answered, but there wasn’t a smidgen of compassion in her tone. “You have to understand that this isn’t personal. It’s business. The market is changing, and I have to roll with it, too.”
I swallowed the bitterness in my throat. “Yeah.”
“Sorry.”
“Can’t you give me a bit more time?”
“My mortgage isn’t going to wait, Mylee.”
There wasn’t any swaying her, and there wasn’t any point in trying.
“You understand, right?” she added, as if trying to absolve herself of any wrongdoing.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“I’ll check my calendar and get back to you with a day to do a walkthrough,” she concluded.
“Sounds great.”
“Talk to you later, Mylee.” She hung up as I blinked rapidly, tears of frustration burning in my eyes. She didn’t even bother saying goodbye. She was probably off to ruin some other low-income worker’s life.
Inhaling, I squared my shoulders and walked toward the clothing wrack next to the single mattress on the ground, staring at the pathetic display of clothes I’d acquired since aging out of foster care.
Most of them were thrift store buys, name brands, but worn down. There wasn’t a single outfit that was impressive enough to wow the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar empire.
But I must have already impressed them,I reminded myself.They want to meet with me. Will it really matter what I’m wearing?
I settled on a crimson blouse and black skirt, setting them aside for after my shower in the morning, but all night, I second-guessed my choice, pacing around the tiny studio, wondering what would happen if this opportunity didn’t pan out.
Then I guess I’ll be in exactly the same position I was twenty-four hours ago,I thought grimly.Just a hell of a lot more disappointed.
* * *
At nine fifty, I stood in the huge, sparkling lobby of Silverpiece Corporation, staring at an impossibly long desk. It took up half the far wall, and three receptionists sat behind it, two of them answering an apparent influx of calls coming through, although I didn’t hear the phone ring once.
“May I help you?” a young man asked pleasantly, but his eyes raked over me reprovingly.
Biting on the insides of my cheeks, I shuffled forward, swallowing. Suddenly, my throat was incredibly dry. The urge to turn and flee from this place where I clearly didn’t belong was overwhelming.
You’re here now, and you’re already at rock bottom. May as well see how much lower it goes,I mused.
“Ma’am?” he pressed. “Are you lost?”
“Uh… I have an appointment—” I sputtered.
“I’ve got this, Amon.” The familiar voice spun me around and through the open elevator doors. A modicum of relief passed through me as Lincoln strolled toward me, a welcoming smile on his lips. “You made it, Mylee!”
My shoulders sagged, making me realize that they had been up to my ears, and I nodded slowly.
“Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
