by Jamie Knight
“It's a thought,” I admitted, scratching my chin. “I just have to find someone who would be crazy enough to go along with that plan.”
Ann smiled and raised her glass for a toast. I grinned at her.
“May that happen quickly. And if World War III breaks out with Etta and you need a place to stay, my door is always open.”
I laughed, taking a swig of my whiskey, hoping that was nowhere in the future.
Chapter Two
Ashlyn
The bus rumbled like a mythical beast, the black smog streaming out the back only adding to this sense. The sweltering heat was not improving things much. Katie bounced and laughed on my lap. She really could make the best of any situation. I wished I could share her enthusiasm.
Ordinarily, my little girl would have been home with her babysitter, and I would be at work, but the fates apparently decided that I should have a life a bit less ordinary.
It started with a Thursday a few weeks before. Heart pounding, I had gone into the manager's small office at the back of the diner. I was still wearing my uniform and felt somewhat ridiculous. Sitting there on the old-school wooden chair, designed to be uncomfortable, I looked among the business-like utility of his office — wearing knee socks and a hair bow that made me even look even younger than I was. That was the day I was fired.
The babysitter left soon after, realizing that I wasn't going to be able to actually pay her. Couldn't blame her, really. Someone I could blame was my asshole of a landlord who had given me until this Sunday, or I was going to get thrown out onto the street and possibly found by my ex.
My arm started to ache again. Phantom pains from the time it was broken. I told people at the hospital I had fallen down the stairs. It wasn't a lie, really. Stairs had been gone down. I had just glossed over the bit about me having had help. They never pried, and I didn't elaborate. It wasn't until he pulled a gun on me, while I was nursing, that I decided it was time for us to go. That was over a year ago. A year of hiding and struggles.
Things were only getting worse. I needed money, and I needed it fast. I'd heard about this new restaurant from a friend. It was on the other side of town, but I figured it was worth the two buses it would take to get there just for the slim chance of getting another job.
Standing on the curb a few minutes later, I realized the stories had been somewhat misleading. The place was a diner in the broadest sense but with a distinctly risqué theme — with a uniform that accentuated the server's figure, to put it mildly. I was just desperate enough to give it a try.
Shifting Katie slightly, who was in a baby backpack on my back, I marched toward the restaurant, determined to get the job.
“Hi, I'm here for an interview,” I said to the buxom girl behind the counter.
“Seriously?” she asked, looking at me and then at Katie.
“Yeah,” I said, with slightly less enthusiasm.
“Wait here,” she said, slightly annoyed.
Taking off the backpack, I sat down on the vinyl bench, putting Katie back on my lap, which she seemed to love. Exhaustion crashed over me, and I had to pull myself together when I saw the manager coming toward us.
“Ashlyn Tate?” he asked.
“That's me!” I said, making the effort to perk up considerably.
“Come this way,” he said, going back toward his office.
Picking up the backpack, I followed, carrying Katie as well as I could with one arm.
“Please have a seat,” the manager said, gesturing to a chair across from his desk.
“Thanks,” I said, putting the baby backpack beside me as I sat down.
“So, what's your experience like?” the manager asked.
“I have about a year of diner experience,” I said.
“Why did you leave your last job?”
“I got downsized.”
“I see,” he said, making a note, “you do realize this is a licensed establishment.”
I blinked at him. “Yeah, why?”
“How old are you? Seventeen? Eighteen?”
“Twenty-two,” I said.
“Really?” he asked, looking up.
“Yeah,” I said, my cheeks getting hot. I knew I looked young, even with a baby on my lap.
The manager eyed me. “What’s your cup size?”
“You mean, like my bra?”
“Yes,” he said flatly.
“34D,” I said softly.
“Impressive,” he said, taking another note then looking directly at my chest.
I nearly said “thanks” on reflex but thought better of it before I could embarrass myself.
He sighed. “I have to be honest, I’m not sure I can hire you. Don’t get me wrong. You’re super cute, and your tits are fantastic.”
“Thanks,” I said, immediately wanting to slap myself.
“It’s just I don’t think our clientele, horny as they might be, are going to go for the jailbait look,” he explained, actually sounding reasonable as he did so — like my last manager had right before he fired me.
I had been called a lot of things in my life, though ‘jailbait’, surprisingly wasn’t one of them. I was too humiliated to really say anything. I just nodded my comprehension, put Katie in her backpack, and left, fighting the tears that were threatening to well up in my eyes.
Back out on the sidewalk, I checked my wallet again. I really hadn’t counted on the trip costing that much, wasting not only time and effort but what little money I had.
Katie started fussing as much as she ever did, letting me know she was either hungry or needed a change. I had just put her in a new diaper before we left to get the bus, so I figured it would be the latter. Left with the choice of taking the bus or feeding my daughter, I carefully crossed the street to a nearby supermarket.
It was getting dark when I came out, having fed Katie at one of the tables the store had set up for those who couldn’t wait until they got home. They didn’t have highchairs, so I just held her on my lap and spoon-fed her baby food. Resourcefulness was a major factor of my existence since striking out on my own. Most of the food even got into her mouth, which was a relief.
Thirty blocks. I had counted them as they had gone by the bus window. Thirty blocks between the diner and the apartment building. With no money for the bus, I started to walk, planning to take it one block at a time.
It was getting progressively darker with each passing intersection. By the time we got back, it was pitch black, and the crickets were partaking in their nocturnal serenade. With each step on my worn-out feet, I hoped and prayed that this would be the last problem of the day and the last failure of the week. I wished for a miracle. This needed to end. I was exhausted, hungry and scared. Too much more and I would crumble.
My prayers fell on deaf ears.
The landlord was outside, dumping an armload of my stuff out onto the curb.
Chapter Three
Chase
Slightly tipsy but no less jovial, I made my way up the sidewalk from where the taxi let me off — the driver not quite understanding my directions. Ann and I had drunk until it was dark, as was our custom, and we decided to share a cab.
Ann lived much closer to the bar than I did. As I understood it, she owned her own house, where she lived with her son, stepdaughter, and husband. I really couldn’t understand the appeal — since Etta turned me off of commitments — but she seemed happy with the arrangement.
Shouts hit my ears before I had even crested the hill. Evictions were a common enough scene in this part of town, and I had a good idea of what was happening before I arrived. Sure enough, I was right, though I was a bit surprised by the exact circumstances.
There were piles of stuff on the sidewalk next to my building. It all looked haphazardly thrown as if it was trash and not some poor woman’s possessions. An old crib was slumping into the road. It would cause a mess of trouble in the morning.
“You said I had until the end of the month!” protested the attractive, young single mom
who lived across the hall from me.
She had been there with her daughter for about six months. We had never really spoken except passing in the hallway, but I had already gathered that her name was Ashlyn. She was in her early twenties, despite looking more like she was in her teens, and her kid was named Katie. I wasn’t particularly trying to pry. I could just be really observant with my neighbors —especially when the neighbor had a figure that could stop traffic.
“And it is the end of the month,” I heard the greasy landlord snap, in a classic dick move.
“But I’m looking for a job!” Ashlyn protested.
“Do you have one?” The landlord asked, looking like he knew full well that she didn’t.
“Well, no but—”
“You’re not looking hard enough, then,” the jerk said, dropping another load of what I assumed to be her stuff on the curb.
“I’ll get you the money!” Ashlyn cried.
“How? Turning tricks?” the landlord snarled. “Either way, you won’t get paid in time to pay off your back rent by Sunday, so why waste time? Better to get it done now, so it is over with, like pulling off a band-aid. I need paying renters in this unit, not some lazy bitch.”
It could have been how needlessly mean he was being — the ‘turning tricks’ comment was really uncalled for — or how desperate she was, or even his flagrant disrespect for the law. Deadlines were not really subject to revision on the grounds of personal convenience. Either way, something happened inside my head, and I found myself marching with newfound clarity into the scene.
“Excuse me, is there a problem?” I asked, heading straight for the landlord.
“Nothing that won’t be solved soon,” the landlord snapped and gestured with his head for me to leave them alone.
Despite his bullshit front, I saw the jerk take half a step back as most men did when they saw me coming toward them. Including bailiffs, cops, opposing council, even a few judges. It was easy to understand why. I was well over six feet tall, with the build of a retired, well-trained soldier and had a facial structure which gave me what even my dearest friends called ‘resting psycho face’ like I might just start stabbing someone at any time. An impression reinforced by the slim, white scar on my forehead above my left eyebrow. A souvenir from my time as a guest of the Taliban.
I didn’t think the landlord knew how he reacted, but it didn’t matter. I had seen it and already knew that I had an advantage. The bastard was scared.
“By dumping more on the curb?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure that is illegal, by the way.”
“This worthless bitch didn’t pay her fuckin’ rent. So, I get to throw her ass out and free up the apartment for someone who will pay the fuckin’ rent,” the landlord said as though quoting scripture.
“But I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Ashlyn sobbed. Her baby started to cry.
“How much overdue is it?” I asked.
“A month, but it doesn’t really matter.”
“Did you write the lease yourself?” I asked, the intended insult, of course, going right over his tiny little head.
“There is no lease! Who the fuck are you, anyway? Haven’t I seen you around here before?” the landlord asked.
Finally, the opening I was hoping for. With some great flourish, I got out my cardholder, knocking one of the bone-white beauties into my hand, and proffering it to the landlord.
“Chase Stanford, real estate attorney.”
“Howell and Howell,” the landlord read off the card, his expression dropping.
“Of course,” I said, with my most winning smile.
“Doesn’t matter,” the landlord repeated, trying to give back the card.
“Remember the Vallenti case?” I asked, keeping my cool.
“Well, yeah, of course, it was in all the papers but, but—”
“That was me,” I said, with my best impersonation of a friendly grin.
“I-I-” he stammered, his bravado abandoning him along with his words.
“Tell you what, how about we make things simple?”
“How’s that?” the cute young mother asked.
“Well, Ashlyn, right?”
“Yes.”
She looked up at me with wide blue eyes. Tears were threatening to leak down her pink cheeks, and her face was pale like she hadn’t eaten in days.
“You and Katie can stay with me until we get things worked out. That way, the landlord will have his place back, and you won’t be rendered homeless by his stupid choices.”
A look of worry moved through her eyes. There was fear there, but the desperation of her situation won out. “Sounds good to me,” Ashlyn whispered, pulling her daughter tighter to her.
“Hey!” the landlord said, finally figuring out that I was probably insulting him.
“Now, now, no need for that.”
“Like fuck, there isn’t! I—”
“Arguments tend to make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” I said, leaning down so we were eye to eye, adding just a little bit of a growl to my usual tone.
“No,” the landlord agreed, taking another full step back.
“Good, I’m glad we understand each other. Now, help me get this stuff back inside.”
“Yes, sir!” the landlord shouted like he was going to salute.
“I live in unit 301,” I said, helpfully.
Without another word, he picked up a huge armload of Ashlyn’s stuff and ran back into the building like his pants were on fire.
Chapter Four
Ashlyn
It was like something out of a fairytale. There I was, a damsel in some deep distress at the hands of the evil goblin king when, out of nowhere, came a knight in shining Armani to rescue me with his cunning. I wasn’t really a cruel person, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel just a little bit of joy seeing the nasty landlord so thoroughly deflated and debased by someone who was clearly a better man.
The sight was so strange it actually took a while before my brain could comprehend what was happening. The guy from across the hall was actually coming to my aid. And with some style too. It was amazing how little he feared the landlord, considering he could have thrown us both out at any time. Yet there he stood, tall and proud as any hero, giving the evil little goblin what for.
I nearly fainted when my hero suggested that Katie and I stay with him until we figured things out. He clearly knew my name and Katie’s, but I had never heard his until the landlord read out the business card, which told me two important things at once. First was his name, Chase Stanford, and second, that he was a lawyer of no mean skill, working for Howell and Howell, which even I had heard of in my relatively short time in L.A.
Up until that point, I had only known my neighbor by what little I had seen. He was a well-dressed, somewhat intimidating guy who came home with a different woman each night. Usually two on the weekends.
I should have been a bit more hesitant when he suggested we stay with him. Though I was so tired and scared by then that I agreed without even thinking much about it. The prospect of a night on the street was much scarier than anything Chase might have planned.
“There you go, sir, ma’am,” the landlord said, nodding to Chase and me in turn when he was finished bringing my stuff up from the curb — at least the stuff that wasn’t broken. The landlord nodded again and beat a hasty retreat as though our roles had been reversed.
“This is beautiful,” I said, sitting down on Chase’s soft leather couch. I set Katie’s backpack down on the floor, having to grab her to keep her from wiggling away.
“It’s the largest floorplan in the building,” Chase said, going over to the minibar.
“Not quite what I meant,” I said, picking Katie up onto my lap.
“Oh, yeah, the renovations. I own the place.”
“I thought it was rental building,” I said.
“Mostly. There are a few units that have gone condo. The fanciest, of course. An upside is there is no condo boa
rd to deal with. Just the nasty gnome of a landlord who’s power does not extend to me. Basically, I’ve bought him out.”
“Must be nice,” I said, a little wistfully.
“It certainly has its advantages,” Chase said, taking a shot of Wild Turkey.
“I guess I haven’t really had time to talk to the neighbors. I’m always either at work or looking for work.” I shrugged even though he wasn’t looking my way.
Now that I was here and we were alone, the situation felt awkward. I didn’t know how to handle the strange man. He was my hero, yes, but after my ex, no man felt safe. Especially not one as big and tall as Chase.
“So, I heard,” Chase said, taking another shot. “Drink?”
“No thanks,” I said, more on reflex than anything.
I had quit while I was pregnant and never really saw the point even when I was able to partake again.
“There’s a spare room at the back,” Chase said, pouring himself another shot and pointing with the glass. “You can put the baby back there to sleep.”
Without a word, I picked up Katie and took her down the hall, stopping at the bathroom for a change before continuing on to the bedroom. The spare bedroom was huge and delightfully air-conditioned. The walls were decorated with beautiful art, some of which looked original.
Getting Katie settled down and setting pillows around her, I went back out to the living room, reclaiming my position on the couch. Chase was sitting in the armchair across from me, his shot glass replaced by a tumbler, also full of Wild Turkey. I tried to get some idea of what was going on, but his scarred face was unreadable. He would have cleaned up at poker.
“My sister and her best friend are coming into town tomorrow, that’s why I did up both rooms. I’ll tell them to get a hotel.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, shocked.
He shrugged. “Trust me, it’s safer this way.”
“Safer?” I asked, getting scared. Maybe he was a crooked lawyer.
“No one will think to look for you here.”
