The Tenant

by Freida McFadden

I need to learn to balance my work and home life. I needed this promotion to give Krista and me the life we want—the life she deserves, which will hopefully be better than what my mom had. I needed it to pay for the brownstone, because the mortgage was eating up my whole paycheck.

I never want to have to worry about the lights being shut off.

As I turn away from the window and follow Stacie out of the office, it doesn’t even occur to me that in the next five minutes, my whole life will come crashing down.

“You shared the Henderson campaign.” “I… What?” His scalp turns pink under his receded hairline. “You showed our campaign—everything—to our competitors. You let them steal it from us, you thieving asshole.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “I know you did it, Blake.” His jaw ticks. “All I want to know is who the contact was and how much they paid you.”

“You’re fired, Porter. Pack up your office and get out.”

And for the first time, I understand my predecessor. Because I wouldn’t mind if this glass broke and sent me plummeting to my death 350 feet below.

I have been unemployed for sixty-two days.

I knew there was something really special about a woman who could bake something that tasted that good. She learned how to make cookies from her mother,

When I asked Krista to marry me, I imagined her someday baking cookies for our children like her mother did for her. That’s the life I want. With her.

It was dumb to think I’d score another job in marketing right away. After Wayne talked shit about me all over town, you can imagine nobody was champing at the bit to hire me for any choice positions.

“So do you have enough money in your checking for the next mortgage payment?” she asks gently. I do—barely. But after that, I am screwed. I won’t be able to pay the mortgage, and I’ll lose the brownstone.

“I think we should take in a tenant until you get back on your feet.”

“I don’t know what to do, Blake,” she murmurs into my neck. “I know you’re going to find something eventually, but… I’m worried.” You and me both, babe. “Maybe…” She holds out her left hand, where the diamond of her engagement ring sparkles under the overhead lights. “Maybe I should sell the ring. That will buy us some time.”

“Fine,” I say. “Let’s get a tenant.”

“He’s going to kill you,” the older woman blurts out. “Blake is going to kill you, Krista. You have to get away from here.”

“He’s going to stab you with a kitchen knife.” Quillizabeth points a shaky finger at the rug beneath our feet. “It’s going to happen right here. I saw a vision of him crouching over your body, watching you bleed to death.”

“Blake, where did you get the money for the down payment on the brownstone?”

“I cashed in my retirement,” I say through my teeth. “That’s how I got the money.” When she doesn’t say anything, I add, “I’ll show you the receipts if you don’t believe me.” “No,” she says softly. “I believe you.”

Why does this voice in the back of my head keep telling me to get rid of her right now, while I still can?

“When I want something, I never let anything get in my way.”