I tipped my chin up in the air and strode into the elevator. I lifted my phone to my ear and pretended to be talking into my phone, and said, loud enough for Carson to hear me, “Hi! Yes, isn’t it fabulous? So nice to have such a huge client come on board.”

I saw a flicker of uncertainty cross Carson’s face as the doors shut. Okay, great, now I just needed to bring in a huge client. No big deal.

I greeted Nyah and Trent as I hustled to my office. No one seemed to care that I was late, which I appreciated. I had a feeling Carson would be making a federal case out of it to Miguel, and I didn’t really need anyone else to pile on.

I dropped my bag in a desk drawer and fired up my computer. I wanted to check my email and see if the meetings I’d set up had been confirmed. While my desktop booted up, I remembered the envelope taped to my door and retrieved it from my bag.

I used my thumb to break the seal and opened the note. I recognized the handwriting with its particular precision right away. The letters were squared off and thick as if the writer meant what he wrote and wrote what he meant—there was an air of authority about the handwriting that made me take notice. I quickly scanned the lines and the word busted leapt to mind.

Tenant:

At exactly seven o’clock last night, you were seen entering the hot tub with what appeared to be an alcoholic beverage. Per the list of rules that was delivered to you upon your arrival, the pool is for the exclusive use of the homeowner. It would be greatly appreciated if you could refrain from using the facilities during the duration of your stay.

—Daire

So the curtain twitch had been the old guy. I stared at the note. I was torn between laughing my head off and crumpling the note up into a tight little wad in my fist and tossing it in the trash.

Tenant? Again, the crotchety old geezer didn’t even use my name. Surely he knew it from where I’d signed the lease in at least seven different places. And the way he signed his name. Daire. I said it out loud with all the condescension I could muster.

I didn’t crumple the note. Instead, I shoved it in the top drawer of my desk and contemplated what I should do. I thought about asking Miguel or Sophie for advice, but I didn’t want to drag them into this. It was likely Daire—I said it in my head with a partial lip curl of annoyance—would tell them himself, which would be awkward enough.