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I clicked the link to file an appeal. Two could play at this game. He wanted to cancel me? Fine! I’d cancel him. If I can’t be renter, he can’t rent out. An eye for an eye and all that!

I spent a good forty-five minutes cultivating an exceptionally fine email, explaining how Mr. C.C. was harassing me, borderline being sexually inappropriate with his misogynistic tone using screenshots of last night’s messages and pasting them in.

“There!” I clicked send, feeling satisfied. It felt good to try to get even, but it still didn’t solve my issue of finding a place to live. I did a quick Google search for a realtor and sent them an email explaining who I was and what my situation is using Kell, Dr. Winnfield, and Gran as references.

Within an hour a realtor had sent me three listings. None of which I could remotely afford—except one. A one-bedroom third floor apartment above an animal shelter. The housing came with strings. The tenant must be willing to check on the animals twice during the night for reduced rent and rights to the dock. Blowing out a huge breath, I sent in an application with a 50% deposit. I love animals. All kinds. Knowing me, I’d end up with more than one in the upstairs apartment. And with that dock…. I can put Pop’s boat in and collect my own water samples. Fish. Paddle board. Live the good life. It came together in my head. It was such a sweet deal I knew I had to get it. I found the number to the animal shelter online and called.

“Shorehaven Animal Rescue.”

“Hi. My name is Ryan Hill. I just filled out an application about the apartment upstairs…”

“This is Steve, I run the place. It’s a nonprofit. I own the building. My wife and I are expecting so we need more space. You good with animals?”

“I am.” I smiled wide. “I’ve just accepted a spot at Duke’s Marine Research program. They had an opening. It’s hard to find affordable housing at the shore though.”

“That it is. Let me look over your application. The realtor just forwarded it to me.”

“Great! Call me with any questions or if you’d like to meet me in person first.”

“Will do. Talk soon.”

I sighed. There was nothing left to do but wait. I had settled everything earlier this morning with the admissions office. My credits were transferring. Tuition and board would be direct deposited back into my checking account. I was packed with nowhere to go. I was squatting on a campus with nothing left for me. I wrote Gretchen a goodbye note, wheeled my suitcase out then came back for the rest of my stuff. I’d crash at Gran’s new house outside of Raleigh. She won’t mind one bit. I’ll surprise her. After all, I owe Gran so much. Her Christmas gifts meant so much, but her wisdom was priceless.

Fourteen

I sat rubbing my temples, eyes downcast. My hands itched to wipe everything off my desk, pick up my chair and smash it against the glass windows. Of course, I didn’t. Instead, I pressed the red button that instantly connected me with Bunny.

“I need two Advil, a 24oz iced-cold Red Bull and the name and number of the head attorney for the OBX rental app.”

“Fetch your own medicine. I’m busy.”

“Please. I’m dying Bun-Bun.”

“That’s what you say every day.”

“I’m serious this time.”

“I forgot to tell you. A reporter from KAB called. Another from the Raleigh Register. They all want the scoop on Mr. July. The city’s very own bachelor attorney philanthropist.”

“Fuck me,” I groaned, head pain throbbing increasing. “Please, have mercy on me, Bun. S.O.S.”

“Well, I did tell them you were a very busy man.”

“You answered questions?”

“Just a few…”

“Bun,” I growled, the litigator in me rising. I interned with a divorce attorney practice in college. They were ruthless fuckers. It wasn’t the best match for me, but I learned how to be cunning and slick in a court of law.

“I need names.”

She rattled off the information of the two reporters.

“I need answers to the questions they asked. Verbatim.”

I jotted down what she had told them, growling low as she spoke.

“… well, you are single. Married to your job and you do only eat salads… they wanted to know your workout routine.”