KAYLEE
I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed them. “Mr. Paris, I don’t understand what you are saying.”
With my eyes still closed, I heard Mr. Paris, my landlord, huff out a breath of impatience. Really, the man only had himself to blame. He had knocked at my door at six in the morning, dragging me out of bed. My brain was having trouble processing, especially since he wasn’t making any sense.
I’d thought the man was there to remind me that the rent was due and I had already been dreading having to explain that I needed more time to come up with it. But that wasn’t why he was here, apparently. However, I couldn’t comprehend what he was attempting to get my sleep-fogged brain to understand.
“It’s quite simple, Ms. Styles,” he said, his tone not hiding that he thought I was stupid. “You ha
