From the moment I woke up I began to stress out, thinking of what lay ahead for the day. I don’t like confrontation, and I really hate being the bearer of bad news.
My wife and I retired from the 8 to 5 rat race in our late forties. We pooled our money, bought a small apartment building and became landlords. We have kept the occupancy rate up with fairly good tenants and enjoy a comfortable income, although maintenance will start eating into our nest egg if we don’t stay ahead of the game. The building is getting older, so we need every rent check we collect.
Today I was planning to knock on Mrs. Brindle’s door and tell her that she would have to leave. I was NOT looking forward to it. Unfortunately her rent was four months in arrears, and another month would be due next week. She is a really nice woman, with a lovely daughter that she is trying to put through college, but her husband left her not long ago. I know she would pay if she could, and I don’t want to put her out on the street but, at $1, 500 a month, we can’t afford for her to stay any longer. Sometimes I hate being my own boss.
When she answered the door I saw her age ten years as my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. She had known this was coming, but I could tell she still wasn’t ready. “Please come in, Chuck,” she said, and opened the door wider. Although she said it pleasantly, I could sense the effort she had to make to keep her voice relaxed. As I stepped into the living room of one of our smaller apartments I could tell she was taking good care of it, and noticed that the walls were a pleasant neutral color, unlike how it was originally rented. ‘Damn, she even painted the place,’ I thought to myself.
She gestured to a seat at the kitchen table and sat down herself. “Mrs. Brindle…” I began, and was immediately interrupted.
“Chuck, I really wish you would call me Julie. No need to be formal. This situation is not your fault.”
I sighed. “Julie, I… we can’t keep allowing you to stay here rent free. We have expenses to meet and it is unfair to the other tenants. I have already let you go two months longer than I have let anyone else go before.”
I saw her eyes watering, but no tears. “Chuck, I will be honest. My daughter and I have nowhere else to go. My ex moved all the money and locked me out. My lawyer assures me that I will get it all back in time, but the bastard keeps getting continuances. If you can just see me through another thirty days I think I can get you all of your money and stay current for the rest of the lease.”
My gut was killing me. “Julie, I really want to believe your lawyer, but this is a business and I have already made more allowances than I had ever planned to. I can’t run this like a friend. This apartment has to generate revenue,” I said with false certainty. It all sounded much better when I was practicing in my head.
“It is taking everything I have to keep Hillary in college, Chuck. Something has to give and it can’t be my child.” Her eyes were watering more, and I sensed an oncoming flood. I wasn’t sure I could take it if she started really crying.
“Why doesn’t she just take a semester off?” I said, sticking my nose into her finances.
“She doesn’t know her father has abandoned us. I won’t let her life be put on hold because of that man. She is the only good thing I can take from the marriage, and I can’t let her know I am in trouble. I’ll sleep in my car before that happens.” The last part about the car barely made it out of her mouth, and it was followed by a tear that was quickly wiped off her cheek.
“I am so sorry, Julie, but the best I can do is to give you to the end of the week. I wish I could do more, but my hands are tied.” Even to me that sounded crappy and uncaring, again not like I practiced. I was really wishing that she would accept the inevitable and let me out of this. She relented.
“Thank you, Chuck. I know I have pushed you well beyond your limits.” Damn, more tears. Thank God there was no sobbing – I would have caved. “It isn’t fair of me to try and get more. I suspect my ex will keep me broke for as long as he can. I will get you what you are owed in time. I just can’t give you a good date.” Her head was down looking at the floor and her shoulders were slumping in that “all is lost” sort of way. “A week is more than I have a right to.” She rose and leaned over and caught me by surprise with a very tender hug. “I know this was as hard on you as it was on me. I am sorry for making it harder by asking for more.”
Shit, she was unintentionally making it worse. “I’m sorry too, Julie.” Lame.
She held the hug a little longer than was comfortable, and I twitched when I realized her breasts were pressing on my chest. I haven’t felt non-wife breasts in over thirty years. Even through both our shirts, it was titillating. “You are such a prick,” I thought to myself. Getting a cheap thrill out of this woman’s suffering made me feel like crap. I fumbled my way out of the hug the best way that I could, and stood up while looking at the floor.
“When the time comes, Julie, I will help you move your stuff.” I threw that out like some kind of consolation prize. She didn’t respond. I looked up and she was staring at my crotch. I took a quick look below and was shocked to see an obvious boner in my pants.
“God, I am so sorry, Julie.” I blushed and turned away to straighten things out. My dick hasn’t acted that quickly since high school. I turned back in a less obvious state with warm cheeks and what I hoped was a very sorrowful expression. She was sporting a half grin.
“Did my hug do that?” The grin grew into a smile. “I haven’t been able to do that in years.” My thoughts exactly.
“Again, I am sorry. I have no idea what came over it… I mean me.” This was truly becoming one of those really, really bad days.
“There is really no need to apologize. With all this bullshit going on in my life, that is the best compliment I have had in a long time.” She was still smiling – boy I wished she would stop so I could keep a shred of my dignity. I can’t begin to tell you how uncomfortable I was. Her expression changed and she tilted her head slightly as if considering her options. I felt this was a good time to make a hasty retreat.
“Julie, I should be going. I really wish it didn’t have to end this way. I hope your situation improves soon.” I stammered as I was heading for the door which would let me out of this nightmare.
“Maybe there is a way we could work this out,” she said with confidence. Damn, I was almost out and I didn’t have the heart to be rude. I turned to see that she was standing tall and had lost the slouch in her shoulders.
“I don’t see how, Julie. It is a money thing and I just can’t let it go anymore,” I stated more firmly than I intended.
“What if you thought of it as a loan and I paid ongoing interest until my divorce is finalized?” she said. Damn – that half grin was back.
“You already owe late payment fees, Julie, which I am willing to forgo because of your situation. I know you can’t afford more and putting you deeper in debt would only exacerbate your problem.” Why won’t this end? I didn’t want to sound mean, but she wasn’t letting it go. I had to remain firm.
“Who said anything about money?” I looked at her as she placed her hands on her hips. Her shoulders went back and her breasts came forward. I was sensing where this was headed, and all I could think about was my wife. We had been married for nearly thirty years, and I loved her as deeply as the day we met. I really never “sowed my oats” in my youth, and had long since resigned myself to missing out on those male fantasies. I wasn’t about to risk my happy marriage for it now.
“I am not sure what you had in mind, Julie, but, this is business and I am already as deep as I can go,” I said firmly, trying to put a stop to any more negotiations.
She took a step forward, moving uncomfortably closer to me, and smiled softly as she looked directly into my eyes. “Just give me another month and you can have me as interest.” I was never a Casanova. Women never came on to me. Hell, it took me three months to work up the courage to make a move on Mary when we started dating. I was in uncharted territory and it showed. I fidgeted and crossed my arms in front of my body, attempting to block her advance. Unfortunately, my prick was enjoying the attention and she knew it.
“Julie, please, I know you are desperate, but this isn’t you. I love my wife and would never risk my marriage for a tryst with a girlfriend or mistress or whatever this would be.” I attempted to back away, but she had maneuvered in such a way that I was backed up to the couch. I was feeling trapped and sensed that I would have to physically move her out of the way to make an exit. I had never manhandled a woman and it just didn’t seem right.
She sensed my predicament, took a step back to give me a little breathing room, and smiled. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend or your mistress, Chuck. You are a decent man and always so polite. What I am offering is one day of fantasy. Something I don’t believe you have ever had.” Am I that transparent? “I will be your willing slut and you can have me every way, all day, with no limits. No one but you or I will ever know.” Okay, that was way more direct than I had ever expected, and I was lost. I tried to fumble out a response, but couldn’t put together any coherent words so she continued.