Page 41 of The Arrangement

I dump my bag into a chair and close my eyes, trying to center myself. My stomach is knotted, and my nerves frayed—not just from Mimi’s fall or from finding Jason at my apartment. But also from the notice given to me in the hallway.

Please be advised that the property at 8901 Lang Avenue has been deemed condemned by authorities. Residents have forty-eight hours from the date of this notice to vacate the premises.

My heart sinks. “What am I going to do?”

Tears fill my eyes, welling so fast that I tip my head back to keep them from trickling down my cheeks.

The notice implied I have rights, but none of those rights seemed to cover new housing. I’m not delusional. Our landlord won’t give a shit about what happens to us. And I’ve dealt enough with the court system when my mother died to know I’d rather do just about anything else than deal with red tape.

Besides, none of that will help me find a place to live in two days.

“How is this my life?” I say, keeping my eyes wide so the fluid absorbs back into my body.

I sniffle and look around my office. I’m so discombobulated. I’m unsure whether to jump into work and forget about this for a while—let it calm down before I scramble and make a bad decision. Or, do I begin looking for a cheap place to live and work extra hard next week to make up the time?

My attention settles on the flowers Thomas sent. For some reason, I laugh. “That date won’t be happening. Leave it to the government to cockblock me.”

Tate’s laughter trickles from Jason’s office.

I tap beneath my eyes to ensure they’re dry, then knock on the door.

“Come in,” Jason says almost immediately.

My heart lodges in my throat as I poke my head around the corner. Jason’s eyes snap to mine so hard that it makes me breathless.

“I was just letting you know I’m here,” I say.

Jason searches me—for what? I don’t know. But the assessment leaves me feeling more comforted than anything.

“I was worried. You didn’t return my calls or show up, and that’s not like you.”

I was so bewildered,and embarrassed, that I can’t remember if I thanked him for caring. That makes me feel worse.

“Hey, Chloe,” Tate says, flashing me his million-dollar smile.

“Hi, Tate.” I switch my attention back to my boss. “Do you need anything? If not, I have a million emails to return.”

Jason’s brows knit together, and he rocks back in his chair. “Actually, I do need you for a couple of things. Would you mind hanging out here for a minute?”

“Sure.”

My breaths grow shaky as I make my way to stand beside Tate.

“Can I get your opinion on something?” Tate asks me.

“What’s up?”

“So there’s a woman who I see off and on. It’s nothing serious,” he says. “She wants me to attend her sister’s wedding next month. I want no part of that, and she’s pissed.”

“Why don’t you want any part of that?”

“It’s like holding a baby. A woman sees you holding a baby, and—boom! All they can think about is having your kid.”

“You say that like you’ve experienced that a time or two,” I say, laughing.

He shivers. “Or three. I don’t like babies. None of them. I’m concerned about Renn’s kid because I feel obligated to be the cool uncle because God knows I’m the only one available for that role.”

Jason snorts, but I don’t look at him.