Chapter Three: FREE RENT?!

Aaron

Someone’s been staying here, I observed.

Only heaven knew what made me leave the office this early, and go to inspect my one property that had been abandoned for years. Seriously, I even wondered why I finally decided to renovate this place. But good for me that I did, because now I discovered that I had a squatter.

Or a criminal hideout, which? As I walked through the house, I was careful not to touch anything or move anything from its place. There wasn’t much by way of property here, just a couch in the living room, a dusty oven and a stool in the kitchen, and a threadbare mattress in the bedroom that had rats scurrying around inside it. I noted that the water was running though, and hot. Someone never cut the power supply to this place.

I stood in the center of the bedroom briefly, wondering. At first, I figured the front door was just jammed, and it was only when I forced it so hard that it fell off the hinges that I realized it had been locked.

Who lived here? No personal effects were lying around anywhere. Could it actually be a hideout?

“Should I even be here?” I thought aloud and started to make my way back to the living room.

“Who’s there?!” a feminine voice screamed from the living room. I froze in my tracks. Could I have been caught?

I bristled. I couldn’t have been caught on my property.

“Get out of my house!”

Ah. My squatter. 

I put my hands in my pockets, the perfect picture of calm, and walked to the front room.

I saw her feet before anything else. Blue canvas shoes covered in soot. Where the hell was she coming from? What did she step in?

As my eyes roved further upward, I became uncomfortably aware of how feminine this woman was. She had curves. Covered in jeans and a large shirt, I could still see them. And I laughed to myself, because when was the last time I even noticed a woman?

Her tanned skin --or was it even brown?—glowed just a little bit, or maybe it was just my newfound fascination with it that made it glow.

For God’s sake, am I having a crush on my squatter?

That straightened me up very quickly, and I met her eyes. 

Beautiful. Brown. Scared.

She was scared. Huh.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as calmly as I could, eyeing the bottle in hand.

“You’re in my house! You’re trespassing!” she screamed, and I winced at her volume. I was right in front of her, dammit.

I nodded. “See, the problem with that, is that you’re in my house. You’re trespassing.”

I saw the moment it sank in how much trouble she was in. Paling suddenly, she lowered the hand brandishing the bottle.

“What?” she asked quietly. Sensing an opportunity to intimidate, I took a step toward her. And then another. Until I was right in front of her, staring down into her round, terrified face. But God, she was small. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. Her head barely came up to my chest. For some reason that was cute.

Suffocating the thought, I leaned in and said, “Get out. Before you get slapped with more lawsuits than you can think of.”

No part of my brain wanted to think about why a woman as stunning as this was living in a place that essentially counted as being homeless. That would make me feel guilty, and I did not feel guilty.

“Please,” she muttered. “I’m renting the place, I’ll… I’ll do what you need me to do, just don’t kick me out.”

I forced my rather inappropriate brain to shut up and not offer what it wanted to offer and focused on the desperation in her voice. Why so desperate? 

“No. Get out.” I said, practically growling, annoyed that my conscience was waking up after literal years.

Her eyes started to well up. Before her mouth could even form the words, I said, “Leave and I can pretend I don’t want you in a jail cell.”

It was low, but it shut her mouth. Her pretty pink…

Oh, for heaven’s sake. I brushed past the small woman, breathing in more smoke off of her. Seriously, where had she been?

And why the hell was my assistant parking in the driveway right now?

I waited at the door, watching Faith come down from her car and shut the door behind her. She hadn’t looked this way yet, or I was sure that that face would be full of fear. She was supposed to be at work, before even me. She was definitely not supposed to be coincidentally at the same abandoned property I was at.

Did she know this woman? Were they together on this? Did I need to fire someone?

It would be a shame if I did. Faith was rather good at keeping up with me.

Finally, finally, Faith made her way to the front door and looked up. The look of terror in her eyes would have been absolutely comical, if I ever laughed.

“Sir…” she faltered, both in her words and her step.

I smiled, a smile that I was sure was not welcoming. “Faith. Wonderful to see you not in the office this morning.”

She paled progressively by the minute. I decided to attempt to give her an out. “Were you following me?”

She dived on it almost too desperately. “Yes! I mean…yes, sir, it’s just that there’s a lot of work to do and I needed to be sure you weren’t skipping out again.”

I felt attacked. You skip work one time…

“Shall we go, sir?” she turned around, power-walking it to the car and opening the passenger door.

Yes, that settled it. Faith definitely knew this woman. I decided to cut the shit.

“Who is this woman, Faith?” And why are you protecting her?

“She’s my…er, sister, yes.”

That woman, with zero semblance to her? Faith was a terrible liar. “Why is she here?” I asked.

She didn’t answer for a second, then she practically ran up to me. “I don’t know what you’re thinking this is, but I swear she’s not a bad person, she’s just going through a rough patch and she needed help, and she can pay rent later once…”

Hold up. “Pay what rent later?”

I believe she made eye contact with the woman behind me and paled even more when she realized that someone’s story was not adding up. 

“She said she was renting the place. Did you rent out property that is not yours, for free? “

Now that just pissed me off. I didn’t get my company, Spear Real Estate, as far as it had come, just by renting shit out for free.

I leaned into Faith, reveling in the fear in her eyes. Good, be scared. Be sorry.

“Because I’m not a gracious person, I will let you have this one strike. I’m renovating this place. Get that woman off of this property before the day’s over.”