Ep. 2: The New Owner Has Opinions
The black SUV was gone by morning, which somehow made everything worse.
“See?” Alex said, pacing the kitchen barefoot. “That was just a vibe. Marmalade District is full of rich weirdos.”
“That man smiled at us,” Eli said, poking suspiciously at a bowl of cereal. “Nobody smiles like that without intent.”
By 6 p.m., the house had entered Full Panic Preparation Mode. Paige had printed the lease and highlighted sections like she was preparing for trial. Nora cleaned aggressively, muttering, “If he thinks lesbians live in filth, he’s wrong.” Mateo wore a button-down shirt he only used for court dates and exes’ weddings. Jonah Googled “tenant rights Utah” so many times his phone asked if he was okay.
The doorbell rang exactly at seven.
Eli opened it to reveal the man from the SUV, now in a tailored coat and boots that cost more than the house’s monthly utilities.
“Hello,” he said brightly. “I’m Grant Whitaker. I’m so thrilled to finally meet you all.”
He stepped inside without waiting to be invited.
Grant was maybe forty, handsome in a way that suggested he’d never used public transit, and carried a leather portfolio like a threat. He glanced around the living room with polite disdain.
“Charming,” he said. “Original woodwork?”
“Original mold,” Mateo replied.
Grant laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Now, before anyone panics, let me be clear — I have no intention of evicting you immediately.”
Immediately.
Jonah visibly flinched.
“I purchased this property,” Grant continued, “because Marmalade is transitioning. Families are coming back. Professionals. People who value … order.”
Paige folded her arms. “We value order.”
Grant smiled at her, then at Nora. “Of course. And I’m very supportive of, well, alternative lifestyles.”
Eli choked on his water.
“The issue,” Grant went on, “is that this house is underutilized. Seven unrelated adults, multiple pets, rotating romantic partners…”
“Hey,” Mateo said. “We rotate responsibly.”
Grant ignored him. “I’ll be renovating the property over the next year. You’re welcome to stay through the end of your lease, but there will be changes.”
“What kind of changes?” Nora asked.
“Rent adjustments,” Grant said lightly. “Usage policies. And expectations around conduct.”
Alex sat down hard on the arm of the couch. “Define conduct.”
Grant opened his portfolio. “Noise. Guests. Gatherings. Certain … displays.”
Mateo’s jaw clenched. “Are you saying we can’t be gay in our own house?”
“Oh, you can be gay,” Grant said. “Just discreetly.”
The room erupted.
“You can’t…” Jonah started.
“That’s illegal,” Paige said.
“This is discrimination,” Eli added.
Grant raised a hand. “Everything I’m proposing is compliant with Utah law. You’ll receive formal notice next week.”
He headed for the door, then paused.
“Oh,” he said casually. “One more thing.”
Everyone froze.
“I’ll be living next door,” Grant said, smiling again. “I like to keep an eye on my investments.”
After the door shut, silence hung thick and angry.
Mateo finally said, “I’m burning his SUV.”
“No,” Nora said. “We fight smarter.”
Eli’s phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number read:
“You should really read the fine print on that lease. See you soon. —G”
Eli looked up, heart pounding.
“I think,” he said, “we’re already screwed.”
