I blinked. “Evicted?”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, nodding like it was an annoying inconvenience. “My landlord is a complete jerk. I was only late twice and suddenly he’s all, pay or get out. Like he’s never been late on anything in his life. So unfair.”
The words landed in my chest like something heavy. Evicted. Late twice. Only. Her tone made it sound like she’d been wronged by the universe.
“And you didn’t think,” I said carefully, “to tell me this before you showed up with suitcases?”
Vanessa waved a hand. “I stayed with a friend last night. She has roommates. They’re weird. They didn’t want me there. So I came here.”
“You came here without asking.”
She shrugged again, like the concept of asking was optional. “I didn’t want to bother you until I had to.”
I let out a short laugh, without humor. “This is bothering me.”
Her gaze slid around my apartment, like she was already imagining it rearranged around her. “You’ll survive.”
My skin felt too tight, like my body knew something was happening that my mind still didn’t want to accept. The second bedroom. My office. My space. The place where I took client calls and built campaign reports and tried to keep my career moving forward.
“I use the second bedroom as my home office,” I said. “I work from home two days a week.”
“So work at the kitchen table those days,” Vanessa said immediately, as if she’d already decided that solution was perfect. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to me,” I said, my voice rising despite my efforts. “It’s my home. My routine. My job.”
Vanessa’s eyes flashed. “God, you’re always so intense.”
“I’m intense because you just showed up unannounced and declared you live here.”
