What if those men come back? It makes me on edge to think that they know both places where I work now.
At least I’m safe here in the apartment building, no matter how run down it is on the inside. At least I can finally get some real sleep and be in my bed, too.
But no, of course not. For some reason, life doesn’t seem to work out for me.
Everything goes to actual hell when I see my landlord standing at the top of the stairwell and tapping his foot. I manage to shove my bag up even higher on my shoulder, moving toward the man with dread in my heart.
“Kathleen,” the man growls out in greeting. I always feel dirty when he says my name as if I need a shower after the word passes his chapped lips.
“Mr. Howard,” I answer him, trying to keep my voice sounding halfway even as I talk to him. “Is there a problem? I’m not late on my rent. I know I’m not.”
Mr. Howard moves, and he smells of Doritos and cheap beer wafts over me. He pushes an envelope against my chest, leaving it there to fall if I don’t hurry to catch it in my hands. He keeps moving down the stairs, not bothering to give me a second glance because he doesn’t really care at all, and I know that. “Rent has been raised.”
I nearly fall as I drop my canvas tote full of books, catching the letter before it falls to the dirty floor.
“Wait, what? That’s not fair. You already raised it a few months ago,” I call after him as I rip the envelope open, hurrying after my landlord with feverish intent. “This is more than a twenty percent increase! What the hell?”
“You got a problem with that?” Mr. Howard asks me as he turns with raised, wild eyebrows to look back at me. “You gonna do something about it, huh?”
“Yeah, actually, it is a problem for me,” I can’t help but snap at him as I look, bleary-eyed, at the man in front of me, if you can even call him that. “More than half of us could barely afford the last increase, and now you’re raising it again? You can’t do this. It has to be illegal to steal from all of us like this.”
“Well, don’t worry about that. I’m only raising yours,” Mr. Howard replies.
“What? What are you talking about?” I demand, and I can hear my own voice shaking with my barely contained emotions. “You’re not raising the others too?”
“Well, your apartment is a two-bedroom, and I don’t have many of those in the building. The two bedroom ones are highly sought after at the moment,” Mr. Howard boasts with a smarmy grin in my direction. I want to punch him so bad.
“You can’t do that,” I argue with him. “I’m barely making ends meet as it is here. You know that I can’t afford that right now. Please don’t, Mr. Howard.”
It makes me feel sick to grovel to a man like him or any man, but my pride will be damned if my little brother at least has a roof over his head for the moment.
“Maybe get another shift shaking your ass at that club, huh?” Mr. Howard intones again, grinning. “I hear girls get special bonuses if they get fully undressed.”
“I’m not a dancer, and you know that. I’m a waitress.” I’ve told him this several times, but he chooses not to listen to me. “Please, I really can’t….” My voice cuts off. I’m trying very hard not to cry in front of this awful man.
Apparently, most of the men in my life are awful.
Eddie shines like a beacon of hope in my head, and I hold my chin high.
“Please think about this. I can’t pay a higher rent. I can’t make it and you know that. I’ve told you this before. We talked about it.”
“I’m not changing my mind,” Mr. Howard counters with a careless shrug of his round, underdeveloped shoulders, looking proud of himself for being awful.
“Look, please,” I grit my teeth as I beg my landlord, keeping my voice even and mature. “There has to be something I can do. How about payments or a loan of some sort? What about that?”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I know I should have kept my mouth shut, knowing that my night is about to go from bad to worse at the moment. That would be my fault.
I’ve seen how my landlord watches me in the lobby, and his eyes follow the curve of my breasts and ass as I leave.
I should have known better.
“That could work for me. Maybe something could be worked out between us,” Mr. Howard states as he turns to look at me. I can see the lust there, heavy in his gaze. “Alternative means of payment are always negotiable between friends.”
I immediately stumble back from his disgusting presence when I catch the way his eyes travel over the length of my body.
I know a look of horrible and unwanted lust when I see it—I deal with that look almost every day when I’m at the club, and now even away fromThe Scarlet Lounge, I’m being harassed.
“Not so easy to make a good deal when it counts, huh?” Mr. Howard counters my choice of silence.