"Hel… Hello, Mr. Jordan! Good evening." I stuttered, hoping he ignored the cuss words I just threw at him. I mean, I didn’t know he was out there.
"You have been avoiding my and my lawyer's calls!" Mr. Jordan accused, his words were direct and nonchalant.
Avoiding his call? Yeah, that would make him the second person today. When I don’t know how to deal with a problem, I just decide to run from it, even though it eventually catches up with me. This is quite the case with Mr. Jordan here; he was my landlord, and I am three months behind on rent.
"Oh. No, hehe," I laughed nervously, hoping that he found this amusing as well, but his crumpled face said something different; he wasn’t having any of it. "I have not been avoiding you, Mr. Jordan; I have just been really busy." I lied for the umpteenth time today.
"Of course you were. I would take it that you now have my rent," he muttered in between his mustaches, and my heart skipped.
"Uhmm… I... I... Mr. Jordan, I need more time," I stuttered.
If I thought he was angry before, I was wrong. Right now, it felt like his face was going to burst into flames. I could see the anger contained in his eyes.
"More time? What more time exactly do you need? If you can’t pay for the house, then you should have left with your friend." He barked.
"I am really sorry, Mr. Jordan; just give me one more month," I pleaded.
"Are you kidding me right now? Another entire month?" He retorted, his tone reeking of disapproval.
Mr. Jordan was right; I shouldn’t have stayed back after Jennifer moved out of this apartment; I should have left with her. I thought I could handle it alone, but I was foolish. Jennifer footed sixty percent of the bills while we lived together, but then she moved into a new apartment with her boyfriend, leaving me to pay the rent for the entire building.
I should have moved to a smaller apartment, perhaps a single room or a flat. Why did I think I could deal with the bills all on my own?
There was silence between us as Mr. Jordan didn’t seem to be moved by my pleading eyes; he sighed and turned his back to me, placing his arms funnily on his waist. But this was a terrible time to laugh, so I held it in.
This was no standard apartment or Mr. Jordan wouldn’t show up so late at night, harassing me over the late payment of his rent.
Slowly, he turned back to face me, and I noticed this scary smugness on his face. I immediately guessed that he was up to no good. Who knows what he's going to say next? He wouldn’t serve me an eviction notice, would he?
"Alright, it's okay. I understand that things are difficult in the country right now; everyone is having a challenging time, so I am willing to make a compromise." He smiled.
I was surprised to hear him say that. I didn’t know Mr. Jordan to be that kind and generous; maybe the Holy Spirit had touched his mind tonight.
"Really? Thank you so much, sir; this means a lot to me. I promise I will pay you as soon as possible; you can count on me." I said, joyfully, putting my palms together in appreciation.
"You didn’t let me finish. It's a cold night, so how about you let me spend the night here with you today, and in return, I would count off the already existing three months due for payment?"
I froze, trying to make sense of what he said. He couldn't mean what I thought he meant, could he?
"I am sorry, Mr. Jordan; I don’t think I follow," I said with squinted eyes, slowly clenching my right fist.
He smiled, exposing his tobacco-damaged teeth. "Come on, Anny." I almost puked when he called me that. "Don’t act like you don’t understand what I mean; you are not a baby anymore," he whispered, slowly rubbing my right arm with his fingertips.
I immediately withdrew my arm and stepped back, holding back the urge to throw a curse at him. What was he thinking? Even if I were that sort of girl, why would I sleep with a man three times my age? This man was older than my father, and yet he was trying to get into my pants.
"I am sorry, Mr. Jordan, but I can't do what you are asking for," I said calmly, biting my lips.
His eyes dimmed with a low growl, and then he scoffed. “Oh, I see. I am not good enough for you to whore with, but you seem to forget that you live in my house. If you want to sleep around with small boys, I don’t care. But you have two days to comply with house rules, or my lawyer will turn you out." He swore furiously.
“Please, Mr. Jordan, I am really sorry." I pleaded.
"And I am sorry too, Miss Annabel. You have two days to pay up or get evicted. Goodnight!" He stated it in finality and then turned around to leave.
I stood there dumbfounded as I watched him leave. Why was this happening to me? Life hasn’t been fair to me at all. Perhaps I was cursed, and this curse had followed me all the way from Italy down here to the United States of America.
As I bang the door hard in tears, I turn around and run down to the sitting room. I was confused, not knowing what to do. There is no way I could raise that money in 2 days, and even a lawsuit against Mr. Jordan would do me no good; I am going to end up on the streets anyway.
Am I just unlucky or cursed? What is special about everyone else that makes them succeed? Nothing works for me, not even relationships. Obviously, I wasn’t good enough for Jimmy, and that is why he cheated on me without regret.
I slumped down on the couch and let the tears trickle down my cheeks, ruining the make-up I had done earlier today. I felt like drowning myself to make it all end; my life was miserable, and nothing was going right. I have been fired from four jobs in the past year, many times because I wouldn’t open my legs to jerks.
Is it a crime to be beautiful? The irony of it all is that the guy I did let into my pants and my heart for free was the one to betray me. Of what use is my dignity if I can't even feed or live? I can't take it anymore.
I have considered suicide so many times, but that would be selfish of me. What about my parents, who have sacrificed everything for me? I can’t pay them back by taking my life.
I stared at my cell phone lying on the couch, and a thought crossed my mind. Maybe I know what to do; I must; I have no choice.
I cleaned my tears, quickly grabbed the phone, and after thirty minutes of combing through my call logs, I found his number. Mr. Maxwell Blackwood is my last hope!
I dialed his number and said a silent prayer, hoping he would take the call. He didn’t answer until the phone had almost stopped ringing.
"You know it is not so nice to call a man at this time of the night, Princess." I heard that deep voice rumble from the other side of the phone, and my body vibrated in anxiety.
"Mr. Blackwood?" I stuttered.
"One and only," he replied. "How may I be of help to you, Miss Annabel?"
I was surprised to know that he saved my number. I mean, he did recognize the caller, so he must have saved my number. It had been over two months since my encounter with him, which didn’t end so well that I don’t even know why I kept his number.
"Can… Can we meet?" I muttered nervously, trying hard to hide that I had been crying.
"Hmm..." He muttered with a tone of satisfaction in his voice. "You sound desperate; I like that sound." Yes, we can meet. Tomorrow, my office is open at 9 a.m.; don’t be late."
Even though I knew he could not see me, I rolled my eyes; he must be feeling proud of himself right now. Yes, I was desperate, or I would have never contacted him. His request may be absurd, but his offer is also enticing.
I haven’t gained anything from being a good girl the whole year; maybe it is time I dropped my self-righteousness and became a bad girl. I am ready to do whatever it takes to survive.
**
