Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
People come and go, but my girl never comes out from the back. I know her schedule. She should be here today. I also know that she left for work this morning.
I pull out my phone and check my alerts. I see a few from Cole. I click them immediately. My hand on my phone tightens when I see a picture he snapped of Gabriella leaving the coffee shop about thirty minutes ago. Her normally rosy cheeks are redder than usual and streaked with tears.
Cole: I think she might have been fired.
Me: Think?
Cole: It was grill the owner or follow her. Figured you would want the latter.
Me: Fine
I fire back.
Cole: That's what I thought.
Bastard made the right choice, but for as much as he cost, he should.
Me: I'll deal with the owner.
I stuff my phone back into my pocket, making my way up to the counter.
"Good morning," the girl behind the counter chirps. "What can I get you?"
"I need to speak to Jim."
"He's on a call."
"I don't care."
"Right," the girl says nervously. "I'll go get him." I pull out my wallet and shove a hundred into the tip jar. She scurries off. I fold my arms over my chest and wait. Something I'm not good at. After a minute, I'm done. I go around the counter. One of the baristas is about to say something, but my hard stare has them turning around and taking the next order. I push through the swinging door.
"He's still on the phone." She points towards the open door of the office. I nod for her to go. She doesn't have to be asked twice. I wait for her to leave before entering the small office.
"Who are you?" Jim, the owner asks. Yes, I know all about Jim. I pluck the phone out of his hand, ending the call before tossing it onto his desk.
“I’m here for us to have a little chat.” I close the office door, and the man’s eyes widen in fear… as they should.
2
GABRIELLA
“Idon’t understand.” How could my situation go from awful to worse? I’m fighting back tears, not wanting them to freeze on my cheeks again. I have cried enough for one day.
The snow is coming down harder. I normally love it when it snows. It’s even more perfect because it's so close to Christmas, so that means we’ll have a white Christmas. I don’t think we’ve had one for years. This is normally my favorite time of year.
“What’s not to understand? You gotta get out.” Mitch is fiddling with his phone, not any real help.
“But I have a lease!” I don't believe I received a copy, however. I'm guessing he's not going to give me one now. Doesn’t a lease protect you from these kinds of things? I mean, can I just be thrown out of my place without some sort of notice?
“Then sue me because I don’t own the building anymore.” Mitch shrugs.
“I can’t get all my things out today.” I try to make him see reason, but I already know it’s falling on deaf ears. Mitch only cares about himself and money.
"Every tenant is getting a buyout. The company is going to give each renter a couple grand to compensate them for the trouble.”
Okay, that's better than nothing. I don’t have a couple grand worth of furniture. My bed is a couch, which works fine for the most part. I only have a tiny studio. It’s all one room. The kitchen stove only has two burners. The place is tiny, but it worked for me. It was the most affordable option I could find, and it felt somewhat secure. It was close each month, but I’d been making rent.
I can’t believe I got fired. It wasn’t even my fault. I can still feel the spot where the woman spilled her coffee all over me. I’ll be shocked if there aren't any surface burn marks. I should have seen it coming. That woman had a weird dislike for me. I don’t understand why.
“When do we get the money?” I could use it to get a hotel. I don’t have much of a choice because Mitch has me. What am I going to do? Sue him? Right. Like I have the means to do that. Who would even buy this place?
“A check in a few weeks.”
“A few weeks!” Mitch’s brows rise. I really don’t want to go back to the shelter, but I can’t afford a hotel for that long. There is no freaking way.
“You don’t have to yell at me, Gabby.”
"I'm sorry," I hurriedly say, feeling like kicking myself right after I say it. I should yell at him, but I detest being mean, and I believe Mitch is aware of this. He is now using that knowledge against me. Why do people have to be so cruel and take advantage?