Mommy's Landlord

by S. E. Law

  But it’s my ex-wife’s influence. Honey was a pale blonde, just like Kenneth, and he’s inherited her peaches and cream complexion. The problem is that on a woman, peaches and cream look attractive; on a man, peaches and cream just looks ridiculous.

  And that’s what Kenneth is at this moment. He’s pink, flushed and sweaty, appearing more than a little disheveled in his oversize t-shirt and track bottoms. He opens the door a crack and peers at me suspiciously.

  “Hey Xavier,” he says sourly. “What’s up?”

  My eyebrows raise.

  “Why the cold greeting?” I ask. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  Kenneth peers around the hallway as if there are spies, and then nods.

  “In fact, you did,” he says. “I was in the middle of watching a movie. Can you come back?”

  “Which one?” I ask, ignoring his request.

  Kenneth grows red and stammers a bit.

  “It doesn’t matter which one,” he says. “I was watching a movie okay? Some World War II documentary put out by Netflix.”

  I shake my head, rolling my eyes. I can smell a lie from a mile away, and my son definitely wasn’t watching a World War II documentary.

  “Listen, if you were watching porn, then fine. I don’t care okay? You’re almost thirty. Give your old dad a break.”

  Ken seems to think for a moment, but then he shrugs his shoulders and opens the door to let me in.

  “Suit yourself. You own this building after all, so do as you like.”

  I roll my eyes again while stepping into the apartment. Aw, fuck. It’s so disgusting in here. Sometimes I wonder why I even let Ken live here for free, seeing that he doesn’t take care of it at all. Old pizza boxes are littered everywhere, and there’s disgusting unidentifiable gunk caked all over the countertops. A sour smell emanates from the trash can, and I bet it hasn’t been taken out in weeks.

  But the kicker is the large flat-screen TV on the wall. Sure enough, two women are locked in an embrace, with one woman’s head planted between the other’s legs. The one who’s getting her twat licked has her head thrown back in ecstasy, her face a rictus of pleasure. The two women are completely nude, and at this moment, frozen in their desire.

  “I can press play again,” offers Kenneth helpfully. “I think you’d like this one. It’s called Belinda Loves Tamara.”

  I shoot him a disgusted look.

  “You know, I don’t have anything against porn because we’re guys. We have needs. But seriously, this place is a dump. Why are you living like this? Do you not see the trash that has to be taken out? The counters that need to be cleared? Have you asked Maria to come by recently? Obviously not, given the state of this place.”

  Kenneth merely rolls his eyes.

  “No, I haven’t asked the cleaning lady to come by because she was stealing from me,” he says flatly. “I was going to fire Maria.”

  I stare at him.

  “Maria has worked for me for twenty years, and she has never touched anything in my home that she wasn’t supposed to. I trust her with my life.”

  Ken shakes his head stubbornly.

  “No, she was stealing from me. I swear.”

  I let out a huff of impatience.

  “Okay, then what did she take? What could you have that she wants?”

  He shrugs.

  “She took a couple of my video games,” he says. “You know, my copies of Just Dance 3 and Arctic Battleship.”

  I stare at him.

  “Maria would never take your video games. She’s sixty years old and watches telenovelas in her free time. What would she want with your games?”

  He shrugs.

  “Maybe she gives them to her grandchildren. I don’t know,” he says in a careless voice.

  I’m dumbfounded by my son’s insensitivity. I know Maria quite well, and she’s a good, church-going woman who attends services three times a week. There is no way she would ever take anything belonging to Ken, even if she were merely donating it to charity.

  “You’re a fucking pig,” I say to my son. “Absolutely a fucking lunatic.”

  My son merely shrugs and grins.

  “Yeah, but Mom said it was the right thing to do. Show no mercy,” he says. “Because if you give an inch, they’ll take a mile.”

  I see red as the rage rises within me. I’ve been divorced from Honey for years, and yet her bad influence is still around me every day because Kenneth is just like his mother. They’re both spoiled, entitled, and self-absorbed. How I managed to stay married for so long is beyond me. Thank god the ink on those divorce papers is long dry, even if it cost me a pretty penny.

  But then Kenneth looks at the clock and flies into motion. He actually begins cleaning, of all things. He’s running around, stuffing empty pizza boxes into the trash bin and trying to grab as many soda cans as possible before throwing them into the recycling carton.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask, completely befuddled.

  Kenneth pauses a moment and looks up, his eyes frantic.

  “Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! Can you help me here, Dad?” he asks. “Grab that carton of milk over there, and toss it in here.”

  I look askance at the carton of milk. That thing hasn’t been in the refrigerator for days, and sure enough, as I draw near, a sour smell wafts through the air.

  “You’re taking my advice?” I ask while putting the carton into the trash. “I had no idea you were such a filial son.”

  “No, it’s not that,” mumbles Kenneth as he zips around the apartment, trying to clean like a speed devil. “It’s that Katie is going to be here in twenty minutes and this place is a sty. I don’t want her to see me like this.”

  I stare at him.

  “Katie? Who’s that? That’s not one of your friends from rehab, is she?”

  Kenneth shakes his head furiously while trying to scrape off some of the unidentifiable gunk on the countertop with his nails.

  “No, she’s my friend from high school. Well, we weren’t exactly friends friends. She stopped by the office today because we’re evicting her mom from the Alastair Complex, and wanted to know what she could do. I invited her by for a ‘chat,’” he sniggers while miming air quotes with his fingers.

  I inhale sharply.

  “She’s the one with the blonde hair right? Small, slim, wearing a blue suit when she stopped by today?”

  Ken stops to snigger again.

  “Yep, that’s the one. She’s hot, right? I’m going to give her the Carlton treatment, and see where that gets me. Oops, I better turn this off before she arrives,” he giggles again while reaching for the remote. “Don’t want her to feel intimidated by these lovelies.”

  I stare at my son. Is he joking? The woman who stopped by the office today was absolutely ravishing with her ivory complexion and golden hair. She was a mix of proud, fiery and spirited. I could tell from her ramrod straight back, and the stubborn set to her chin as she spoke with my son. Plus, I couldn’t help but drink in that luscious figure because she was slim yet also curvy at the same time. The navy blazer couldn’t hide her generous breasts, nor the way her hips swung with every step she took.

  And now, this woman is here to meet my son? That’s disgusting. She’s too good for him, and even worse, it seems that Ken wants to put her in a compromising situation, given the eviction notice.

  This isn’t happening on my watch. Not when my mystery woman is so near, and such a beautiful gem too. I can’t let her be defiled by ugly, corrupt Kenneth. Instead, I fix him with a look.

  “I’ll take over,” I grind out.

  Kenneth doesn’t hear me at first as he frantically tries to clean some more. Obviously, nothing is going to make a difference at this late stage. This apartment needs to be evacuated and fumigated before it’s presentable again.

  “What Dad?” he asks. “Seriously, can you help a little? Grab my dirty laundry over there, and just throw it under the couch.”

  I stare at his boxers, which look
to be stained and worse for the wear. Disgusting. Instead, I merely shake my head.

  “I’ll take over,” I repeat in an authoritative voice. “Ms. McCall will deal with me instead.”

  This time, Kenneth catches drift of my words and he pauses for a moment.

  “What does that mean?”

  I shrug.

  “She’ll be coming to see me, and not you. I’ll ask the concierge to send Ms. McCall up to my penthouse, instead of your apartment.”

  After all, my son and I live in the same complex. It’s a luxury building situated in the best part of town, and Kenneth’s apartment was part of the divorce settlement. Honey wanted to set her son up with a place to live before she escaped to Europe, and as a result, I gifted Ken this place on the fifth floor.

  “You’re going to what?” Ken gasps, his eyes bugging out a bit.

  “I’m taking over,” I repeat casually while striding towards the door. “Consider the McCall matter closed, Kenneth. I’ll handle it from here on out.”

  With that, I let myself out into the hallway as my son stares after me in stunned silence. The door swings shut with a thump, but I merely shrug while striding to the elevator.

  After all, this is merely the natural order of things. As the alpha male, I’m asserting my dominance over a lesser male of the pack. The alpha male has the right to claim the females in the pack as he sees fit, and now that I’ve seen Katie McCall, Kenneth is being shoved unceremoniously out of the picture. Katie will be mine, and that’s that.

  4

  Katie

  Tentatively, I make my way to the reception desk. Just like at Carlton Realty, this reception area is also lavish, with sky-high ceilings, modern chandeliers, and granite floors that gleam.

  “Um hi, I’m here to see Mr. Carlton,” I manage in a stilted voice. “I’m Katie McCall.”

  To my surprise, the male receptionist doesn’t even blink.

  “Penthouse floor,” he says. “Please use the elevators to the left, and press “P” once you’re inside.”

  I smile and murmur my thanks before stumbling a bit on my way to the elevators. Drat, it’s these shoes. To my shame, I’m actually dressed the way Kenneth requested. I have a navy cocktail dress on that hugs my curves, showing off my generous girls. The skirt is far too short and creeps up my thighs as I walk, and I tug it down self-consciously while biting my lip. These heels are ridiculous too. They seem to clop loudly, like horseshoes, as I walk across the marble floors.

  Finally, I get to the elevator and press the button. Immediately, the doors slide open, and I step into an ornate mahogany box. Wow, this is so fancy. Gilt mirrors show my reflection, and I grimace at myself a bit as I press “P.”

  It makes sense after all. It’s possible that Kenneth lives in the penthouse because I know his father’s firm practically owns this entire town. What’s another penthouse to the Carltons? They’ve probably got fancy apartments all over the world, just waiting for their arrival.

  The bell dings, and the doors whoosh open once more. I step hesitantly into a lavishly decorated hallway, but it’s clear where to go. There’s only one door on the far right, and I wince a bit in my high heels as I make my way to the imposing entryway.

  Hesitantly, I press the doorbell. There’s no sound and my heart lifts. Oh my gosh, maybe Kenneth’s forgotten about our appointment and I can sneak out of here without having to encounter him. But then footsteps sound on the other side, and my heart sinks. Drat, I knew it was too good to be true.

  The door creaks open but instead of seeing Kenneth’s hulking mass, instead I see the handsome older man who had the other corner office at Carlton Realty.

  “Um hi, I’m here to see Kenneth?” I ask hesitantly as my cheeks flush. “I’m Katie McCall.”

  The man smiles while stepping back to open the door.

  “Yes, of course. I’m Xavier Carlton, Kenneth’s father. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  My mouth gapes open and my eyes grow wide. Holy hell, this is Kenneth’s dad? It seems impossible because they look nothing alike. This man is dark, handsome and imposing, with his broad shoulders and muscular bulk encased in a dark suit. Meanwhile, Kenneth is of middling height, extremely pudgy, with a fair complexion. How can they even be related?

  “Oh thanks,” I say while stepping into the penthouse. “I didn’t realize that Kenneth lived with his parents, but I guess it makes sense. The economy has been so tough that a lot of young folks now live at home to save money. I would live at home too if my mom were easier to get along with,” I say by way of explanation.

  But them my mouth snaps shut and my cheeks color. Why did I say that? I just met this guy, and revealed my poverty to him for no reason! How could I be such a dunce?

  Plus, upon entering the apartment, I can tell that the Carltons have more money than they know what to do with. The place is incredibly spacious and beautifully decorated with towering ceilings, glittering chandeliers, and huge, arched windows that show off the dusky night beyond. It’s the kind of place you’d see in a designer magazine where they try to sell you furniture that costs an arm and a leg. Plus, to top it all off, there’s a glimpse of the moon through the window on my right, lending a romantic air to the setting.

  “Your wife did a beautiful job decorating this place,” I say, my eyes wide. “Is she a professional designer?”

  The older man grins.

  “Actually, I’m divorced from Kenneth’s mom,” he says while the corner of his mouth quirks up. “We got divorced a while ago actually. But Ken was already in high school then, so hopefully it didn’t affect him too much.”

  I stare at this man. Is he sharing personal information with me too? Do we both have a case of verbal diarrhea?

  “Oh, I think Kenneth’s turned out well,” I say with a small smile. “We knew each other in high school, albeit not well, but I never noticed anything wrong with him.”

  The handsome man leads me to a sofa and smiles again at me.

  “Really? That doesn’t sound like the Kenneth I know. My son has always been … interesting, shall we say?”

  I stare up at this man from the gorgeous greyish-silver sofa. What do I say? Do I tell him that I think his son wants something unspeakable from me in exchange for letting my mom remain in her apartment? Do I reveal the nasty innuendoes to him, and beg for an escape?

  But nothing comes out of my mouth because in fact, there’s nothing to say. Ken hasn’t really made me an offer yet. There have been dirty hints that make me shudder, and his commands to “dress pretty” and “wear sexy lingerie” exist. But if confronted, Kenneth could deny it all. He could say I was a liar, and then it would just be a “he said, she said” scenario.

  Besides, I don’t know Xavier Carlton. He’s making fun of his son, but he probably loves Kenneth with all his heart and would be deeply hurt if I made even the tiniest negative comment. As a result, I decide not to say anything. I’ll just murmur a few bland platitudes, and then he’ll leave as his son appears.

  But what does Kenneth have planned? How is he going to seduce me if his dad is right here, in the same apartment? Or is there a diabolical aspect to this all? For example, is Kenneth going to take me into the basement and tie me up, all the while his dad remains unaware upstairs?

  I force myself to calm down. This isn’t a horror story, I say to myself in a firm voice. You’re not going to be kidnapped and then thrown into the dungeon of a castle like some helpless princess. You’re you, Katie, a regular girl. You’re not even special enough to be kidnapped.

  As a result, I make myself take a breath and smile guilelessly at Mr. Carlton again. My breath catches when something flickers behind those dark blue eyes, and my heart begins to race. Does he know what I’m thinking? If he has a sense of the kind of person his son is, does he realize that I’m probably in danger at this very moment?

  But Mr. Carlton doesn’t say anything. Instead, he merely nods and then asks, “Can I get you a drink?”

  I stammer.
r />   “Um, sure. What do you have?”

  His lips quirk in a smile again.

  “Well, can I serve you a big girl drink? Or would you like something like a milkshake or a juice?”

  I stare at him briefly. This is such a weird conversation. Why would he offer me a milkshake, or even a juice for crying out loud? Those are kids’ drinks.

  “I’ll take an adult drink, thanks,” I say quickly. “Rum and Coke if you have it.”

  He grins.

  “Coming right up.”

  With that, the handsome man walks over to the mini-bar and lets himself behind the bar, where there’s a shelf of expensive liquor. He pulls down a brand of rum that I don’t recognize and then begins mixing the drinks.

  “So Katie,” he rumbles while putting together my order. “It seems that your mother lives in one of our apartments, isn’t that right?”

  I try to remain calm.

  “Yes, that’s right,” is my slow reply. “Kenneth must have mentioned it to you. By the way, is he here? I was supposed to meet him tonight, and we were going to talk a little about that. I didn’t see you call him or buzz him, but maybe I missed it? I was hoping to put in a good word for my mom, you see.”

  Mr. Carlton is silent for a moment as he adds ice to the glass tumblers. Then he lifts them both and comes out from around the bar to bring me my Rum and Coke. Damn, this man is so good-looking. His skin is deeply bronzed, and my hand shakes a bit when he hands me the drink.

  Xavier notices and a gleam appears in those blue eyes again. But he merely folds his tall form into a chair across from me and gives me a calm look while sipping his drink.

  “Actually, Kenneth doesn’t live here so he won’t be joining us,” the older man rumbles. “You’ll be meeting with me.”

  I gape at him.

  “But this is the address that the secretary gave me at Carlton Realty,” I stammer. “I thought I was coming to Ken’s apartment. Maybe they gave me the wrong place?”

  Mr. Carlton looks amused.

  “No, they didn’t. Kenneth lives in this building, but he has his own place on a different floor. Only I live in the penthouse,” he says with a knowing smile.