Chapter 3 - Locked Out
The damp chill of the city night seeped through Gage’s thin designer shirt. After exhausting the pocket cash he had bribed a taxi driver with, he finally reached his high-rise luxury building in downtown Manhattan. The glass lobby gleamed, promising the sanctuary of his thirty-fifth-floor penthouse.
"Evening, Mr. Vance," the concierge greeted him, his usual warm deference noticeably replaced by professional distance.
"Keycard isn't working on the elevator," Gage barked, tossing the plastic chip onto the marble reception desk. "Re-code it immediately."
The concierge did not pick up the card. Instead, he slid a sealed white envelope across the mahogany counter. "Management received an emergency directive from Vance Holdings at six-thirty this evening. The lease guarantee provided by the parent company has been terminated. The locks were changed an hour ago."
Gage’s jaw dropped. "My clothes are up there! My watches! My entire life!"
"Your personal belongings have been packed into four standard storage cartons currently held in the freight basement," the man replied, devoid of emotion. "You have forty-eight hours to collect them, or they will be auctioned to cover the outstanding cleaning fees."
Clutching the white envelope with trembling hands, Gage stepped back into the street. Rain began to fall in heavy, unforgiving drops, soaking through his tuxedo. For the first time in his life, he had nowhere to sleep. He dialed the number of his best friend, Julian, hoping for a sofa.
May you like
The call connected, but before Gage could speak, Julian whispered urgently, "Gage, don't call me. Arthur just pulled Vance funding from my firm's seed round because of you." The line went dead.
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