Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Why did he have to be so hot? With his stupid jawline and his muscular chest, he could have figured into my fantasies, but no more. I resolved never to think of him again. Stewing in my rage, I almost missed the unpaved road that wound into the forest. I forced myself to get a grip, slowing down my breathing and paying attention to the road.
The darkness of the forest night closed in around me, broken only by my headlights. It was like I was falling off the edge of the world into a magical realm. The thought that this might be one of the last nights that I would ever drive up to this cabin filled me with sorrow. I was fighting back tears by the time I found the parking space.
I pulled out my cell phone and turned the flashlight on. The heels were useless in the dirt, so I slipped them off. Carrying my purse, my shoes, and my phone in one hand, I shook the house key to the top of my key ring with the other. There was a piece of paper stuck to the door. I pushed the key into the lock and turned it, holding my breath.
I dropped the shoes and the bag just inside and reached up to grab the notice. Turning the lights on, I read the words I had been dreading since Wednesday. “Eviction notice,” the paper said. “You are required to vacate the property within a week.”
I wanted to scream. I did scream. I was in the middle of the goddamned woods; no one would hear me. I grabbed my phone and dialed the landlord’s number. So, what that it was almost midnight. He had obviously just been up here, and if I woke him up, so much the better.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Evicted?” I nearly shouted.
“Now, Ms. Parker, calm down,” the landlord began, sweeping all my concerns under the rug.
“Calm down?” now I shouted. “You told me that I would have exclusive rights to purchase this cabin a year from now.”
“Yes, but—”
“You said you would consider my offer of making double payments,” I insisted.
“Yes, but—”
“I signed a contract!” I was nearly hyperventilating, and the rational part of my brain told me that I had to get a grip.
“The contract was never completed,” he said, clearly annoyed that I kept cutting him off.
“What do you mean, the contract was never completed?”
“I never signed the contract.”
“Yes, but—”
Now it was his turn to cut me off. “The contract wasn’t signed by both parties. Therefore it is meaningless.”
“But I…” I didn’t know what else to say. I was staring at the kitchen, the kitchen where I was going to bake brownies and lasagna. It had all been a lie. He had never meant to let me buy the cabin. He was just taking my money and allowing me to rent the space until a better offer came along. And that better offer was a city detective with blue eyes and a charming smile.
“I expect you to be out of the property by next week,” the landlord said and hung up.
I barely felt the phone dropping as it slipped from my hand. I was too stunned to even cry. I felt cheap and used. This beautiful dream had been nothing but a scam. I would have to go back to apartment life, with white drywall and low ceilings. Instead of the majesty of the forest, I would wake up to a parking lot and a dumpster tastefully hidden by a cement wall.
Depressed, I turned the lights off and went to bed. Just before my brain switched off and let me sleep, it conjured up an image of Jason as I had seen him at the bar before I learned of his traitorous ways. He smiled at me and offered to help get the bartender’s attention. I drifted off, feeling warm despite the impending storm.
The next morning, I washed my face clear of the makeup I had slept in. I dressed in work-appropriate blouse and slacks. I spent the whole day with an apron tied around my waist, so I didn’t need to look stellar, but I liked to be professional. After re-applying eyeliner and lipstick, I hopped in the car.
All I had to do today was make it through work, and then I would come up with a game plan. I parked on the street and breezed through the door, cool as an iceberg.
“Hey!” Ava waved from across the room. She was cutting someone’s hair, but I could tell she was itching to run over and ask about what happened after she’d left the bar last night.
I’d clocked in and taken three customers before the rush slowed down and the salon emptied out. Ava came over to grab my arm as I swept the floor. “I can tell it didn’t go well last night,” she said.