Part 3Kicked Out of Property Management, Owners Regret It Badly

The next morning, I woke up to over a dozen missed calls from Mark. I'd silenced my phone for a peaceful night.

I answered groggily. An angry torrent of words immediately assaulted my ear.

"Claire, what the hell is this? You had the elevators disabled first thing in the morning! Everyone who lives on the 20th and 30th floors was late for work! We had to send some of the older folks to the hospital from the exertion!"

On the security feed I still had access to, I could see Mark pacing frantically in our old office. I'd left the cameras active for this very reason.

"Claire, sweetie, please help us out," Tiffany cooed into the phone, her voice dripping with false sincerity. In the video, her expression was pure disgust. "Just have them turn the elevators back on. Give us some time to transition!"

Mark took the phone back. "Claire, you should know better than to burn your bridges! You never know when you might need someone!" His voice rose to a yell. "You are a cold-hearted bitch! I'm giving you a chance to fix this. Get over here now so we can talk."

"Fix it?" I stretched luxuriously and chuckled. "Your wife stabbed my tire to send me a message. This is just my message back. Tit for tat. Seems fair to me."

There was a pause. On the monitor, I saw him cover the phone and exchange a few hushed words with Tiffany. After she nodded, he cleared his throat.

"I'll pay for a new tire. You solve this problem."

Tiffany forced a smile. "Claire, let's be adults here. This is about business, not right and wrong. I was a little impulsive yesterday. I'm sorry."

"No," I said simply.

Mark's temper flared. His body language on the screen screamed, My wife apologized, now do what you're told.

"Claire! Don't push your luck! If you don't help, it'll just take me a few extra days to sort this out. But you'll have lost me as a friend! You can just rot at home until society forgets you exist!"

I hung up, not feeling a shred of anger. My housekeeper brought up breakfast, and I ate while watching the security feed.

Mrs. Gable was dragging two huge plaid laundry bags full of cardboard boxes. Everyone dodged her. She stood at the entrance to her building and ran into Mark and Tiffany.

"Mark, why isn't the elevator working? You said you'd fix it today."

"Mrs. Gable, please don't add to the chaos. Just leave your things in the lobby for now. We'll let you know when the elevator is running."

Annoyed, Mrs. Gable started hauling her bags toward the stairs. "No way. I live on the thirtieth floor, and I'm taking these with me. What if someone steals them from the lobby?"

Mark looked like he'd swallowed a bug and stalked off.

A smile touched my lips. This was only day one. They were in for a long ride.

After breakfast, my husband came home. Seeing my cheerful mood, he came over to watch the monitors with me. He hadn't been worried at all when we were forced out.

"I've already secured you the management contract for the new luxury villa complex. You can even bring your old team back," he said. "I told you from the beginning, the Crestview Estates was a complicated mess. You should have been firm the first year they didn't pay. Dragging it out was bound to end in an explosion."

He wrapped his arms around me. "I'm always in your corner. According to plan, Crestview is about to become infamous."

I snuggled into his embrace. His family's property management company was one of the top three in the country. Without his backing, I never would have won the Crestview contract ten years ago. He was the one who gave me the freedom to take risks. Otherwise, that $1.5 million debt would have bankrupted me long ago.

We spent the next few days together, taking our son to amusement parks. Life was good. I had my assistant manager move our team to the new villa complex. After the ordeal at Crestview, they found the new job, with fewer residents and even fewer demands, to be a dream. Plus, their salaries doubled. It was a blessing in disguise.

Meanwhile, at Crestview Estates, the elevator problem festered. Mark tried to collect $20 from each household for repairs, but almost no one was willing to pay. Having tasted the sweetness of getting services for free, they weren't about to start paying now. And Mark certainly wasn't going to pay out of his own pocket.

With the elevators out, a new problem emerged: food delivery.