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“Oh my go?—”
“It’s not like you’re dating anyone.”
“I’m not having this conversation.”
Josiah shrugs and goes back to his phone while I struggle to regain my equilibrium. I’ve never heard my brother string together this many words before. And it’s because of Ronan Cullen of all people.
Lost in my thoughts, the drive goes quickly and I near our apartment. To my surprise, there are work trucks filling the curb. Construction workers lug furniture out of the ground floor apartments while the sound of hammers knocking into walls fills the air.
Josiah’s eyes travel over the busy scene. “What’s that?”
“I have no idea,” I muse. Parking a distance away, I climb out of the car and approach the apartment doors hesitantly.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” A man wearing a construction hat and holding a clipboard stops me.
“Um, I’m a resident. I live on the fourth floor.”
“Name?” he asks brusquely.
“Nardi Davis.”
The man brings his pen down the clipboard, stops at my name and taps it twice. “Here’s an ID card, Ms. Davis. You’ll want to use the side entrance that way.” He makes a sharp gesture to the corner and then turns away from me.You’re dismissed.
I clear my throat. “What exactly is going on? Is our apartment being demolished?”
“I don’t know about that, ma’am. I only know that this floor has been cleared of residents and is being converted into office space.”
“Office space?”
A walkie at the man’s side squawks and he picks it up with an annoyed expression. Someone says something to him, but it’s incomprehensible to me because of all the static. To my surprise, the man seems to understand. He mumbles instructions into the device while stalking off.
I return to the car where Josiah is waiting, his eyes taking in all the activity.
“Let’s go.” I shut the engine and pocket my keys.
As we walk, Josiah says nothing and I’m glad that he’s returned to the reticent brother that I know. If he’d asked me any questions, I wouldn’t be able to answer them. In fact, I have a ton of questions of my own.
What on earth is going on?
I text the building manager message after message.
Then I check the apartment group chat, which is buzzing with news about the renovations. I’d missed most of them because I keep my phone on silent at work.
I think we’re all being kicked out, guys. Pack your bags.
No way. I heard the first floor tenants were offered craaazy money to move out.
I type:Can anyone confirm that?
No one responds.
At this point, all we have is speculation.
I call the manager since he hasn’t responded to any of my texts.
It goes straight to voicemail.
The management has never been particularly informative or transparent in the past. They haven’t responded quickly to requests either. It doesn’t surprise me that we had no heads up about this renovation process, but I wishsomeonewould tell me what their intentions are for the rest of the building.