“Don’t worry, we won’t be having any hanky-panky. Fucking my employee is as appealing as shoving my dick in a vise.” Before giving me time to respond, he reaches over his clean desk and hands me a brown folder with a stack of papers. “Make a copy of this orientation package for the new HR manager.”

Without a word, I head to the copy room located on the nineteenth floor where most of the employees have already gone home. Gunner likes to keep me after hours.

Four copy machines are pushed against the gray wall with a white dry-erase board above the paper station. Thankfully, the room is empty, and I don’t have to deal with other people. I’m not in the mood to hear about the latest office gossip.

My phone rings, and I grab it from the pocket of my dress. My landlord’s name flickers across the cracked screen. It’s odd for Jacob to call me during this time of the day. I just paid rent so there is no real reason for him to be calling.

“Hey, Jacob.” I juggle the phone between my ear and shoulder while lifting the lid to the machine, resting a sheet of paper face down, and closing it. The machine hums as it spits out freshly inked paper.

“I have some terrible news.” His voice is gravelly from years of smoking. I can practically smell the nicotine through the phone.

Swallowing hard, I place the paper back into the folder.

“You have a week to find a place to live. The new owner is knocking down the building.”

Is he serious? Please tell me I’m on Punk’d, and Ashton Kutcher is about to jump out and shove cameras down my throat.

“Is this a joke?”

“I’m afraid not.” He exhales loudly.

“And you couldn’t have told me earlier?” I screech through gritted teeth. My anger bites at me like a hippo chomping on food.

“Listen, you’re not the only tenant living here, Gallagher. I have a very sick mom who’s dying from cancer. Not everything is about you!”

The phone line goes dead, and I stare at it for a few moments, trying to fathom what the heck just happened. I want to bawl my eyes out. This week can’t get any worse. Where will I live? How am I going to find a new place in under a week?

My apartment might not be the best place in the world, but it’s still my home. When I first rented it, it was the first step of independence from my ex. It was a big F-you to him that I can survive on my own without help from him. He can no longer break my heart by feeding me empty promises.

I was proud I was able to get something on my own. Not only was it a place for me to live, it was my sanctuary.