Mr. H.O.A., Carina Taylor [uplifting book club books .txt] 📗

was even making me want to apologize for everything I'd ever done.

"How soon, Chippy?" I asked again. "And we'd better be getting our deposits back."

"No can do on the deposit, Fox. But Mr. Mercier has assured me he will put it down for your future luxury apartment. I’m locking up the building tomorrow. The health inspector was adamant that we leave right away. I highly suggest you pack as much as you can and find a new home. Now get out." Chippy picked up a box and turned around to glare at the two of us.

That was that, apparently. I told him, "Be sure to tell Mercier that I'll be fighting him on the deposit."

The woman next to me smiled. "That goes for me too. Tell him I'm upset. Tell him Nola is mad."

I closed the apartment door with a firm slam. My shoulder bumped against the woman's, but she didn't step back.

"Can they do that?" She asked as she gazed at me with bright green eyes.

"Do what?"

"Evict everyone with one day's notice? That has to be illegal."

"Unfortunately, Oregon law says that if a building is condemned, you should vacate the premises immediately."

"You sure?"

I nodded, taking in her searching look. I didn’t want to be the one to corroborate what Chippy said, but unfortunately, he was right.

I half-expected the woman to shed a tear—her expression was so broken. I flexed my hand, ready to give her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Instead, she turned to me, and her eyes flashed as she ranted, "Of all the—I can't believe he's building luxury apartments. And keeping our deposits! This is his crummy building. He should pay us to live in this death trap."

I placed my hand on her elbow and gently guided her away from Chippy's door and toward the staircase.

I'd lived in the same apartment building for three months and never caught her name. She didn't seem like she was in the introducing mood right then. Neither was I. But at least I knew her first name now since she’d said it to Chippy. Nola. Not that it mattered to me. Not at all. I wasn't curious if she was single or not.

"I wonder if he realizes no one here can afford luxury apartments. How out of touch..." She continued speaking as she stomped up the stairs rapidly, forcing me to jog to keep up. "And where is everyone going to find housing on such short notice? Doesn't he understand how competitive the housing market is here?"

I nodded. She wasn't wrong. Finding another apartment or house to rent in Riverly would be nearly impossible. If you had a budget that could only afford The Market Street Apartment Complex then you were doomed.

"And to think that the man owns empty houses right here in town and does absolutely nothing with them!"

I cleared my throat. "What was that you said?"

She glanced over her shoulder at me. "Oh, it's just that the man who owns this building is bursting at the seams with money. He owns lots of houses. It's disgusting. Some of them are even empty."

"How do you know?"

She rested a hand on her hip and looked past my shoulder. "I know the lady that cleans one of them every week—even though it's empty."

I nodded as I stopped at my apartment door. "Well, I hope you're able to find somewhere soon. Good luck."

She smiled and nodded. "The same to you. I hope we get our deposits back."

She turned and hurried up the third flight of stairs, leaping over the rotten steps with the speed and agility of a long jumper.

Yes, nice legs and eyes, but I knew nothing else about her other than she lived in The Market Street Apartments. That wasn’t exactly the greatest character recommendation.

Knock knock knock.

I pried my eyes open and looked out the office window. Darla, my office manager, stood outside the door knocking on the glass pane.

I'd fallen asleep at the office last night—again. It was the second night I’d done so. After packing up a few meager belongings, I sold my recliner on Craigslist then drove to the office where I caught up on some paperwork. Having nowhere else to go, I worked late and ended up falling asleep in my office chair.

After the first night sleeping in the office, I tried to check in to a local hotel. Unfortunately, they were booked out for a conference at the local medical school. Even the resort at the edge of town was completely booked.

I had several showings and two houses in escrow. I figured I could sleep at the office and use my gym's showers until I had time to focus on finding myself somewhere to live.

My head pounded, and my neck burned as I walked over to open the office door. I opened the door slowly, afraid if I moved too fast that my back would never straighten out again. Being twenty-seven wasn't for wimps.

"Are you all right?" Darla asked as I stepped into the hall.

"Oh, you know, late night. Fell asleep in the chair this morning." None of which was a lie. I didn't like lying. I didn't condone it. But I also didn't want my employees freaking out because their boss was homeless. Being homeless didn't look good when you were the one signing paychecks.

"Well, dear, you should go to bed earlier, then you wouldn't be so tired in the mornings." Darla shook her head. "You probably haven't had your coffee or breakfast yet either."

I followed her down the hall to her office, where she set down her suitcase that she called a purse. She pulled out a small paper sack. "I brought you a breakfast sandwich today. You've been looking stressed lately, and when you're stressed, you don't eat the right things. You need a heart-healthy breakfast, not a donut."

I happily sat down in the cushioned chair next to her desk. She kept chatting as she laid the food in front of me, then made a pot of coffee at her little station in the