“I can keep making payments.” Annika spoke firmly, willing him to see the capability in her eyes, the passion, the fire, the willingness to do whatever it took to keep Make Up running. “I can make up the back rent; I just need more time. It’s a temporary cash flow problem.”

“Isn’t it better that you have a tenant here who’s willing to work with you, Mr. McManor?” June perched on the edge of the desk. “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, that’s what my mama always says.”

“Firstly, your back rent is only part of the problem. Catching up with rent has nothing to do with your business loan, on which you also owe quite a substantial sum of money. And secondly, we’ve had plenty of interest in the space, as it turns out. From people who would be able to afford the rent rather easily.”

June narrowed her blue eyes. “Like who?”

“Gwyneth Paltrow’s first cousin.”

Annika blinked. “What?”

“We’ve been approached by a representative for Gwyneth Paltrow. Her first cousin wants to rent out this space for an interior design business she’s launching. She’s willing to prepay the first six months.” Mr. McManor stood, brushed his suit off, and walked to the Make Up sign on the wall. The one Annika had been so proud to order. The one that had her feeling like she’d made it, that she’d achieved the dream, that she was unstoppable.

He turned to her, his eyes flat and distant behind those little round glasses. On anyone else, Annika might have admired them for their chic Harry Potter vibe. A beam of sunlight from the window lay in a stripe on his balding head, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Unless you completely resolve your delinquency, including late fees and penalty interest, Ms. Dev, the news isn’t going to be good.”

“Before you go,” June said. “Who’s moving in next door? Are you managing their loan, too? Because maybe we’ll tell them how you treated us.”

Mr. McManor looked at her like she was an idiot. “Why, that is privileged client information, Ms. Stewart, and as such, is undivulgeable to you.”

“That is so not a word,” June muttered.

Annika drummed her fingers on her desk. “Interesting. But you did divulge that Gwyneth’s cousin wants this space. Doesn’t that violate some kind of confidentiality?”

Mr. McManor turned bright pink. “That was rather gauche,” he said after a long pause. “I was simply … excited. I’ve been an admirer of Ms. Paltrow since her masterful performance in Emma.”

“Excited?” Annika stared at him. “You’re excited right now?”