Bliss by Shay Mitchell

Demi’s apartment search and move, her post-breakup malaise, and her constant hangover. Thank god for Maya, but Demi knew the ice was getting thin. It was only a matter of time before Maya cracked and Demi sank.
    â€œYou look better than you must feel,” said Maya correctly after she hung up the phone. She was out with Demi and her friends last night, but left after one drink, hours before things got weird.
    â€œDon’t expect much from me today. I think I have to cut out early again. Just some stuff to take care of.” Demi didn’t really have anything urgent, other than the need to nap, and to bake some apology muffins for her neighbors. They hosed her vomit. It was the least she could do.
    Maya wasn’t having it. “I need a full day, Demi. Crunch time. You can either do the phones or deal with the alcohol permit. If we don’t get it sorted out ASAP, we’re screwed.”
    A food festival without beer was like Christmas without presents. Given the choice between schmoozing forty people on the phone, each with a complaint, or going to City Hall to stand in a long line, Demi would have to take … god, both sounded awful. She liked Maya, and she was pretty good at organization, but she didn’t feel anything close to passion for this job. It was something to do until the blurry big picture came into focus. Maya’s enthusiasm was usually contagious, but it wasn’t spreading today.
    â€œDid I tell you, I figured out that the whole time James said he was in Chicago last May he was really in Miami? I checked the credit card records.” In her nonwork, nonblotto hours, Demi had become obsessed with logging into their Visa account and comparing past statements with her calendars. It was all there. Each statement was proof of his lies. If only she’d looked at their financials sooner. In her years with James, she’d never once checked. James handled all the bills.
    â€œYeah, James is a prick, was always a prick, and will continue to be one for as long as he slimes his way across North America. You should have known. You were an idiot, yes, we agree.”
    Demi said, “I sense … annoyance.”
    Maya laughed. “I’m not annoyed . I’m freaking out! As soon as First @ Second is over, I want to hear every despicable James story you’ve got. But until then, we have shit to do.”
    â€œI just sat down. Let me have one cup of coffee first, okay? Then I’m off to City Hall. Just half a cup.”
    â€œA Demi?” asked Maya. Two phones rang at once, and she was off to the races. Her day would continue like this for another twelve hours.
    Demi filled a mug, and scrolled through her work emails. Seventy-eight messages, most of them marked Urgent, re: First @ Second. One address popped out at her. The email was from Mrs. Rydell, the building manager who showed her the apartment at the Grace. The message had an attachment—her signed and executed lease.
    She called Mrs. Rydell, who picked up on the first ring. “Hello, Demi. Did you get the lease?”
    â€œYeah, thanks.”
    â€œDo you love the place?”
    â€œI like it. But I couldn’t help noticing, everyone there is really old.”
    Mrs. Rydell was such a fast talker when she was walking her through the place. Now, she took a pause. “I told you the residents were mature.”
    â€œBy mature , I thought you meant employed .”
    â€œMore like retired .”
    â€œDid someone die in my apartment?”
    â€œPeople die everywhere.”
    â€œThe lease is signed. I can’t get out of it now. Just tell me the truth.”
    Another pause. “The apartment’s quirky history is why it’s so affordable.”
    â€œHow quirky?”
    â€œAll I know is that the deaths were from natural causes, like heart attacks and strokes. It’s just a coincidence that they happened in the same apartment.”
    Demi choked on her coffee.