Chapter 23: Filthy Rich Bosses: Chapter 23

I stare at my phone, scrolling through apartment listings with growing desperation. The clock is ticking, and I can practically hear it mocking me with every passing second. Three days. That’s all I have left before my contract with Grayson expires, and I’m out on my ass.

‘Hey, Tess! Whatcha doing?’ Chase’s voice startles me, and I nearly drop my phone.

I look up to see him leaning against the doorframe, that signature crooked grin plastered on his face. ‘Oh, you know, just planning my imminent homelessness,’ I reply, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

Chase’s eyebrows furrow. ‘What are you talking about? You’re not going anywhere.’

I let out a humorless laugh. ‘Chase, my contract is up in three days. I can’t exactly squat in Grayson’s house forever.’

‘Why not?’ He pushes off the doorframe and plops down next to me on the couch. ‘I’ve been saying you should stay forever. So, stay. Forever. Don’t like the house? Fine. We’ll build you a guest house out back. Hell, I’ll even build you a treehouse if that’s more your style.’

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. ‘As tempting as that sounds, I need to find my own place. Like, yesterday.’

Chase peers over my shoulder at my phone screen. ‘Whoa, those places look…interesting.’

‘That’s one word for it,’ I mutter, swiping past another sketchy-looking listing. My stomach churns as I realize just how limited my options are. Who’s going to rent to someone with my less-than-stellar credit history and no job?

Who is going to rent to someone right fucking now?

Shady people, that’s who.

I take a deep breath, stealing myself. ‘Look, I know it’s not ideal, but I don’t have much choice. I’ve got to at least check these places out.’

Chase’s playful demeanor fades, replaced by genuine concern. ‘Kitten, you don’t have to do this. I want you to stay. We want you to stay. I’m sure if you talked to Grayson—’

‘No,’ I cut him off firmly. ‘I’m not asking for handouts. I’ve always taken care of myself, and I’m not about to stop now.’

With a resigned sigh, I tap on one of the listings and hit the “Request Viewing” button. The confirmation pops up almost immediately, and I feel a mix of relief and dread wash over me.

‘Well,’ I say, forcing a smile, ‘looks like I’ve got an apartment to see. Wish me luck?’

Chase wraps an arm around my shoulders, giving me a gentle squeeze. ‘You don’t need luck, Tess. You’ve got us.’

I lean into him for a moment, allowing myself this brief comfort. But as I pull away, I can’t shake the nagging thought that this isn’t permanent. It can’t be. No matter how much a part of me wishes it could be.

“I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not, really.”

“I am though.”

“Fine. But you can’t go dressed like that,” I say with a smirk.

Chase looks down at his slacks and designer t-shirt and grins. ‘What? It’s comfy.’

I raise an eyebrow. ‘You’re going to a dive bar, not a wine bar.”

“I thought we were going to an apartment?’

“It’s a metaphor. They’ll try to raise the price if you come looking like that. I need slob, not suave.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. ‘All right, all right. You win. But you’re not getting rid of me that easy. I’ll be back in five.”

As I walk toward the hallway, I hear Douglas’s voice from behind me.

“I trust you’re not getting any funny ideas, Miss Tessa.”

I turn to find him leaning against the doorframe with his usual, knowing smirk. His sharp eyes catch mine with that touch of concern I’ve come to expect from him.

“Funny ideas?” I raise an eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean?”

Douglas straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest like he always does when he’s about to deliver some kind of dry wisdom. “I’m simply ensuring you’re not sneaking off without proper company, Miss Tessa. Grayson would not appreciate being left in the dark, and I’m quite certain you’re not planning on going anywhere unaccompanied.” His voice is warm but firm, with that unmistakable British edge that always makes it sound like he’s seen the situation a hundred times before.

I roll my eyes, but it’s more out of habit than annoyance. “I can take care of myself, Douglas.”

Douglas tilts his head slightly, a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “While I’m certain that is true, it is my job to look after this home and the people in it. But I do know when to turn a blind eye, as it were.”

I give him a wry look. “So, you’re going to help me sneak off?”

Douglas raises an eyebrow, the only outward sign of surprise. “I do not condone breaking the rules, Miss Tessa. But I also know when your mind is made up.” His gaze softens just a fraction. “I trust this is not about anything…troublesome, yes?”

“No,” I answer, though my voice falters for just a moment. “I can’t rely on them. My contract is almost up and I need somewhere to live. But what I can afford and what they’re used to…it’s not the same. They won’t understand.”

Douglas nods, though I can tell he’s not entirely convinced. “Very well, then. But if I may offer a piece of advice—take care of yourself out there. It’s not always so simple when one is trying to stand on their own.”

I offer him a faint smile, appreciative of the concern, but it feels like it’s not enough. “I’ll be fine, Douglas. I’m not asking for help. I don’t need it.”

He studies me for a moment, his eyes searching, before he finally gives a curt nod. “I’ll ensure Mr. Chase is distracted, then. Don’t make me regret this, Miss Tessa.”

‘Thanks, Douglas,’ I murmur as I head toward the stairs. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’

As I ascend the stairs, I hear the distinct sound of Douglas’s footsteps trailing behind me for a moment. ‘And Miss Tessa,’ he calls softly. ‘Be careful.’

I pull up to the dilapidated building, my heart sinking as I take in the peeling paint and one or two boarded-up windows. The stench of garbage wafts from overflowing dumpsters, and I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

‘Well, this is…charming,’ I mutter to myself, clutching my phone tighter as I approach the entrance.

Beggars can’t be choosers. This is what I’m used to. Staying with Grayson and his gang of ridiculously rich friends was a vacation in la-la land. It wasn’t reality. This…this is reality.

A man with greasy hair and yellowed teeth emerges from the shadows. ‘You must be Tessa,’ he says, his eyes roving over me in a way that makes my skin crawl.

‘That’s me,’ I reply, forcing a smile. ‘You’re the manager?’

He nods, fishing out a set of keys. ‘Follow me, sweetheart. I’ll show you the place.’

As we climb the creaky stairs, I can’t help but think, This is it. This is what rock bottom looks like. But it’s either this or sleeping in my car. Although, with the stench maybe that’s the preferable option.

The apartment is as bad as I feared—stained carpets, mysterious odors, and a kitchenette that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since the Reagan administration.

‘So, what do you think?’ the manager asks, leaning against the doorframe and blocking my exit.

I swallow hard, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. ‘I’ll, uh, think about it and get back to you.’

“Don’t wait too long, girlie. It’s a steal at this price. It won’t be available long.”

As I drive back to Grayson’s, my mind races. There were a few other options. But without a job to put down, it doesn’t matter. I have plenty of money from this contract with Grayson—he way overpaid me. But it will only go so far without continuous income to report.

Maybe I could stay in one of those extended stay motels until I found something…

I pull into the driveway, surprised to see Juniper’s sleek sports car parked out front. Is Grayson here? My stomach does an uncomfortable flip as I walk in and find her perched on the edge of the living room sofa, phone in hand.

‘Oh, Tessa,’ she says, glancing up at me with a tight smile. ‘I didn’t realize you’d be back so soon.’

I force myself to return the smile, even as suspicion gnaws at me. ‘Just had a quick errand to run. Is, uh, Grayson around?’

Juniper shakes her head, her fingers flying over the keyboard. ‘No, he’s in meetings all day. I had some business to attend to.’

I can’t help but wonder for the millionth time what exactly is going on between Juniper and Grayson. The way she’s always here, always so comfortable in his space…it shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

‘Right,’ I say, unable to shake the feeling that there’s more to her presence than she’s letting on. ‘Well, don’t let me interrupt.’

“Actually, the business is with you.”

“With me?”

Juniper stands, her auburn hair swinging as she strides towards me, a manila envelope clutched in her manicured hands. ‘I have some paperwork for you,’ she says, her tone clipped.

My stomach drops. ‘Paperwork?’

‘Your severance package,’ she clarifies, extending the envelope. ‘And a reminder about your contract end date.’

I take the envelope, my fingers trembling slightly. ‘Severance? I didn’t realize—’

‘It’s all there in black and white,’ Juniper interrupts, her eyes sharp behind her thick-rimmed glasses. ‘Including the stipulation that you need to vacate the premises no later than ten a.m. on your final contract day.’

The words hit me like a slap. ‘Excuse me?’

Juniper’s lips thin. ‘I’m sure you understood this was a temporary arrangement, Tessa.’

Anger flares in my chest, hot and fierce. ‘Where’s Grayson? Shouldn’t he be the one telling me this?’

‘Mr. Harrington is a very busy man,’ Juniper says, her tone maddeningly patronizing. ‘He asked me to handle this matter.’

I clench my fists, fury and hurt warring inside me. ‘So he couldn’t even bother to tell me himself? That’s bullshit.’

Juniper’s eyebrows rise. ‘I’d advise against using that kind of language—’

‘Save it,’ I snap, my voice trembling. ‘You can tell Grayson that if he wants to kick me out, he can damn well look me in the eye and do it himself.’

I storm out of the room, my heart pounding and hands shaking. The envelope crumples in my grip as I stomp up the stairs to my temporary bedroom. Slamming the door behind me, I collapse onto the bed, my mind reeling.

I knew. I knew this was coming, that this was all temporary. But to handle it like that? Especially after he’d asked me to stay on longer?

‘Screw this,’ I mutter, fumbling for my phone. I scroll through my recents until I find the number for that sketchy apartment I viewed. My finger hovers over the call button for a moment as doubt creeps in. Do I really want to live in that dump?

My jaw clenches. I hit the call button.

‘Yeah, hello?’ a gruff voice answers after two rings.

‘Hi, this is Tessa Morrow,’ I say, my voice stronger than I feel. ‘I viewed an apartment with you earlier today?’

‘Oh yeah, the hot little number with the attitude,’ he chuckles. I cringe but press on.

‘I’ll take it,’ I blurt out. ‘The apartment, I mean. Is it still available?’

There’s a pause, and I can almost hear the sleazy grin in his voice. ‘For you? Absolutely, sweetheart. When do you want to move in?’

‘As soon as possible,’ I reply, ignoring another knock at my door. ‘Tomorrow morning?’

‘Perfect,’ he says. ‘Just come by first thing to sign the paperwork, and the place is all yours.’

I end the call, a mix of relief and dread settling in my stomach. It’s not ideal, but at least I won’t be homeless. Again.