Page 5 of Landing Liam

My phone rings, interrupting the banter. “Hello?”

“Hey, Maggie.” The voice on the other end sounds hesitant.

“Louise?” I frown, sensing something’s off. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a long sigh. “Ryan and Melissa need a place to stay. I hate to do this to you, but…”

My throat tightens. “Got it. I’ll clear out of the granny flat.”

“I’m so sorry, dear,” she says, her tone strained with guilt.

“It’s fine, Louise,” I reply, though it’s a lie. “I’ll head over now.”

I hang up, pressing a hand over my chest as the news sinks in. Six months ago, my ex—Ryan—left me after getting a coworker pregnant. His grandmother, Louise, let me stay in the flat and told Ryan to find a new place. Now, it looks like I’ll be the one looking for somewhere else to live.

“What’s going on?” Odie asks.

I force a smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

But that’s another lie. I can barely manage the rent for my shoebox of a studio, and my credit cards are maxed out. Now I have to find a new place, and the idea of scraping together another security deposit feels impossible.

“What did Louise want?” Odie presses.

I hesitate, my throat tightening. “Ryan needs the granny flat back, so I have to move my stuff out.”

“Of course he does.” Odie’s face darkens. “Screw that guy.”

I hold up a hand to calm him. “Thanks, Odie, but it’s done. Now I just have to figure out where I’m supposed to live.”

“You could call your dad,” he suggests.

I shake my head, pushing down the memories that flare up. “That’s not an option. Trust me.”

He hesitates before offering, “Well, the guys and I have a spare room. You’d be sharing a house with three dudes, but the rent is cheap.”

“How cheap?” I ask, a glimmer of hope igniting.

Odie shrugs, thinking. “I could probably talk them into $350 a month, if—”

“I’ll take it!” I grab my purse, my heart racing. “Text me the address?”

“I have to ask them first, Maggie!” he calls after me as I head for the door. “Maggie!”

But I don’t look back. I know I’m out of options, at least for now. Even if it’s cramped, even if it’s temporary, it buys me time. Time to figure out this story on Liam Thompson, time to push myself out of this rut. If I can get something concrete on him, a break like this could be my ticket out of here. A byline big enough to catch the eye of an editor in a real city—a place with opportunities, somewhere that doesn’t feel like a trap with no escape.

Janowicz has been good to me. He took a chance on me straight out of college, no credentials, no connections, and taught me more than any newsroom class ever could. But if I want my career to go somewhere, I can’t stay under his wing forever. This story could open doors to the kind of work that doesn’t just pay the bills but lets me breathe. I can’t keep circling this town, haunted by memories that refuse to let me move on.

As I reach my car, I hear Janowicz’s bellow out behind me. “Cooper!”

I turn, barely concealing my frustration, and he’s standing there, arms thrown up in exasperation. “Where do you think you’re going? There are still three hours left in the workday!”

“It’s Louise,” I explain, gripping the car door. “She’s kicking me out.”

He huffs, crossing his arms. “You can crash in the break room if you need to, kid.”

I give him a half-smile. “I’ll think about it.”

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I reach for the flathead screwdriver in the glove box, the familiar ritual of starting my stubborn, ancient car. It roars to life with a satisfying rumble as I throw it into drive and peel out of the parking lot.