New Landlord

Susan

Monday morning greeted me with its usual chaos...spilling coffee on my blouse, almost leaving my apartment without my laptop, and, of course, navigating the unbearable Monday morning traffic. By the time I got to the office, I was ready for the day to prove just as frustrating as the start of my morning.

But as I settled at my desk and opened my inbox, something unexpected caught my eye: Payslip Notification – Prescott Industries.

Frowning, I clicked on the email, scanning it quickly. My eyes widened as I read the details: Prescott Industries had decided to pay me 50% of my project f*e upfront, with the remaining 50% to be paid upon completion of my contract. On top of that, my monthly consulting salary would take effect immediately.

I blinked at the screen, half-convinced this had to be some kind of mistake. The contract terms hadn’t mentioned anything like this...if anything, I’d been bracing myself to scrape by until the contract was fulfilled.

Excitement bubbled up despite my initial skepticism. I wasn’t going to question a miracle. This meant I could finally pay off my rent and breathe a little easier.

Reaching for my phone, I immediately called my landlord.

“Hello, this is Susan Hart,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’d like to make a payment for my rent.”

“Oh, Ms. Hart,” my landlord replied after a brief pause. “I’m afraid I’m no longer managing your property.”

I blinked, stunned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The property’s been sold,” he explained. “It’s under new ownership now. The transition was finalized just last week. I’ll forward your information to the new owner so they can contact you about future payments.”

“What?” I repeated, unable to hide my confusion. “The property was sold? So quickly?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “It all happened very fast. But don’t worry, the new owner will handle everything smoothly. You’ll be informed of any updates.”

I thanked him and ended the call, my phone slipping from my fingers onto the desk as I sat back in my chair, stunned.

How could the ownership have changed so quickly? Just last week, I’d spoken to the landlord about extending my lease. Now, suddenly, there was a new owner? It didn’t make any sense.

I shook my head, trying to make sense of it. Real estate deals didn’t happen overnight, especially not for a small property like mine.

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” I muttered under my breath.

Still, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. Something about the whole situation felt… strange.

I glanced back at my email, my gaze lingering on the payslip notification. This unexpected money was the lifeline I desperately needed, but it didn’t erase the odd timing of everything else.

For now, I’d just have to let it go and focus on the positives. I finally had a way to pay the rent, and for the first time in weeks, the crushing weight of financial stress felt lighter.

But as I went back to work, the questions still lingered at the back of my mind, no matter how much I tried to push them aside.

The ringtone shattered the quiet of my office, pulling me out of my thoughts. Glancing at the screen, my stomach churned when I saw the name. Cedar Pines Nursing Home.

With a shaky breath, I answered, bracing myself for bad news. “Hello?”

“Ms. Hart, this is Rachel from Cedar Pines,” the nurse began, her voice tinged with concern. “I’m calling about your mother’s medication routine. She’s been refusing her pills for the past week, and it’s becoming a concern for her health.”

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Is she saying why? Has something upset her?”

“She mentioned that she didn’t want to burden you with additional costs,” Rachel explained gently. “She seems to think skipping her meds will make things easier for you financially.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Of course, she’d think that. Mom had always found ways to blame herself for our struggles, even though none of it was her fault.

“Thank you for letting me know,” I said, my voice tighter than I intended. “I’ll speak with her. Please make sure she gets her medication in the meantime...I’ll cover whatever’s needed.”

“Understood,” Rachel replied. “But please try to talk to her. I think hearing from you will help.”

“I will,” I promised before hanging up.

Dropping the phone on my desk, I slumped back in my chair, the weight of everything crashing down on me. Rent, bills, now Mom’s health...it felt like I was constantly running uphill, only to slide back down again.

The soft knock on my door barely registered until it opened, revealing Elliot. His presence was a shock, as it always seemed to be lately.

“Hey, Susan,” he said, stepping inside with his usual confidence.

I quickly sat up, plastering on a neutral expression. “Hi, Elliot. What can I do for you?”

He held up a folder. “I wanted to go over the finalized budget proposal. Gerald mentioned you’ve been leading the charge.”

“Oh. Right.” I reached for the file on my desk, keeping my movements calm, even though my mind was anything but.

But Elliot wasn’t looking at the budget. His eyes were on me, studying my face like he could read every thought. “You okay? You look... preoccupied.”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, too quickly. “Just a lot going on. Nothing I can’t handle.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “That call just now...it sounded serious. Is everything alright?”

“It’s personal,” I said, brushing it off. “Nothing to worry about.”

Elliot stepped closer, leaning against the edge of my desk. “You sure? Because you don’t seem like yourself.”

His persistence was both infuriating and... something else. Something I didn’t want to think about.

“I’m fine,” I repeated firmly, but the words felt hollow.

He hesitated for a moment, then straightened, his expression softening. “Look, I know we don’t exactly have the easiest history, but if there’s something you need... just say the word.”

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just nodded, forcing a weak smile. “Thanks, Elliot. But I’m okay. Really.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, placing the file on my desk before turning to leave. “Alright. But the offer stands.”

As the door closed behind him, I exhaled shakily, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me.

Elliot Prescott. He wasn’t supposed to be this... thoughtful. Or kind.

And I wasn’t supposed to feel this conflicted.