Page 82 of You'll Love it Here

A hint of a grin cuts through. “I’ve been spending a bit of time with this girl who used to be really practical, logical, and knew the value of time blocking. Guess she rubbed off on me.”

“Well, be that as it may, I think it’ll still be worthwhile. Northern Property Management is huge,yes. But I know big companies like this. They want the easy, low-hanging fruit. If we can get the city to hear us out—even if it’s just a brief delay, I think we could turn Northern Property Management off the sale. They won’t want to get involved with costly holdups when there are easier fish to fry.”

Sami lets go of my hands to put his palms on my shoulders. “See, that’s why I need to hear your logic. It can outlogic my logic.”

I grab either side of his torso and clench the fabric of his apron, pulling him closer. “Let’s show these fucks who they’re playing ball with.”

“That’s a lot of heart there, kid.” His eyes are full of far too much admiration.

But if I can save the building—then it’ll all be okay. And I can finally deserve it.

I have no other choice but to believe it.

Heads turn as our parade of tenants approaches the building where the development meeting is being held. Since it’s only a couple of blocks away from Valleyview Apartments, we decided to meet in the lobby on Monday afternoon, just before the meeting, andwalk over together. We perfected the plan over the weekend. I have broken up the concerns for us to bring up into categories:supporting infrastructure; traffic issues; small community feel; construction impact on business; historic building preservation, etc. I’ve also given everyone a loose set of talking points based on the direction they want to go. It took several hours to gather and prepare everyone, but I’m buzzing with energy and several of Sami’s coffees as we march down the block.

I’m in my favorite navy suit set and nude heels. Something I haven’t worn in weeks. I feel more myself than I have in ages—I’msoback.

We’ve got Carmen in his fucking Wranglers leading the way with Lorna, whose head keeps bobbing as she giggles at whatever he’s saying to her; I bet he’s going to be pouring her a Fanta by night’s end. Sami’s walking behind me with Norm, who looks like he’s finding the willpower to take every step, but his face is set with determination. I can’t believe how far he’s come from the guy I saw during the fire alarm a few weeks ago. Mr. and Mrs. Chaudhry (Uniform Family’s parents) are next in the line. By my side, Jane is sporting a flowery jumpsuit. Sami even managed to round up the owners of a few other surviving local businesses to round out our procession.

The path we’ve been walking is familiar to me. It’s the same route I take to Westmore Communications, whose office is right across the street.

When we round the corner and stop at the crosswalk, Jane, who took the afternoon off for this, nudges me. “Bet you haven’t seen that barista’s butt cheeks in a while. Don’t tell me you didn’t miss him the most during your leave.”

I follow her gaze to the coffee shop I used to frequent during my lunch breaks. On the patio, the barista is serving customers, his booty pinched tight in Lululemon leggings in all their muscular glory.

“The view is weirdly taking me back,” I say as he leans over a little more than is necessary to distribute drinks to a table. Jane and I both trail him with our eyes as he walks inside—only, I stop short as I lock eyes with Corbin. He’s exiting the coffee shop with a to-go cup. He meets my gaze with an expression that can only be described as horrified surprise. He breaks my stare and turns to mutter something over his shoulder. Behind him, Olivia and Lisa are walking out too, drinks in hand.

My heart stops as the other two of my best friends’ eyes crawl toward me—as they register the group I’m walking with. As they quickly divert their gazes.

Olivia’s mouth moves, and it’s like I can hear their comments without actuallyhearingthem. After years of being part of their pod, I know how they operate. Right on cue, Corbin throws his head back and laughs.

These people—my best friends. Or at least, I truly believed they were. But cutting me off when I was struggling, trying to sabotage me—that’s not justhealthy competition. It’s messed up, actually. It’s not even hurt I feel. It’s shame. Because a few weeks ago, I was just like them.

“Hey, Jane.” I nudge closer, the comforting scent of her shampoo crawling its way to me. “Those are my friends I haven’t seen in a while. I’ll catch up in time for the meeting.”

“Sure.” But she gives me an uncertain glance. To be fair, the last time I said I was popping out for a minute, I missed the rest of our town hall about the rec room. I give her shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze, then head to the intersection.

Corbin, Olivia, and Lisa are huddled in a tight circle chatting as I force my feet to keep stepping across the street. When I approach them, they don’t seem to notice—even though I know they all saw me heading this way.

“Hey, guys,” I say, a bit louder than is probably necessary.

Their heads whip toward me in unison. Olivia’s eyes go wide,but her smile is bright as her eyes flicker from Corbin to Lisa. An unspoken conversation is passing between them. I know this silent language too well not to hear the million screams buried beneath it.

These people haven’t seen me in weeks, and the first thing Corbin says is “Was that the IT guy from our office?” His tone has the lift of a joke, and Lisa giggles on cue, playing her part.

I turn to watch the group of weirdo tenants making their way up the block. “Good memory! That’s Norm. He’s a friend from my apartment building. In fact, they all are.”

Again, their eyes connect, a silent conversation passing between them. It’s almost too predictable, the snide remarks they’re likely banking for later.

“Are you excited to come back to the office next week?” Lisa asks.

“Yeah, is your, uh... was it your mom? Is she okay now?” Corbin’s voice is perfectly chipper as he lifts his coffee to take a sip.

Olivia’s pasted-on smile is borderline vulgar.

I can’t believe I used to be so desperate for these people’s approval that I couldn’t even tell them the truth. That I allowed myself to be friends with people who would hold my hardest moments against me as soon as I left the room.

“Yeah,” I say, just as chipper as Corbin was. “She’s doing much better. I am too.”