Page 4 of Landlord Wars
“Ms. DuPont called again this afternoon,” my assistant said. “She wishes to schedule a lunch appointment with you.”
My ex might have had a change of heart after months of separation, but I hadn’t. “Tell her I’m not available.”
* * *
Sophia
I crawledup the last steps to my apartment, sweat dripping down the middle of my back, and breathed through the pain of a throbbing heel blister. In an attempt to maintain some form of sophistication, I’d been wearing heels to and from work. The walk to work was only four blocks, but September in San Francisco could be the warmest time of the year, and my swollen feet were paying for it.
I opened the front door. “Hello?”
Jack was standing in bare feet, shorts, and a faded black hoodie pulled up over his head in the kitchen on my left, his body bent at the waist. The light from the mostly empty fridge illuminated his face.
He straightened and looked over, shoving the hoodie off his head. “Hey, how was work? You don’t happen to have any food around, do you?”
I kicked off my heels. “Are you foraging incognito style? What’s with the—” I waved at his head.
He flashed me a goofy grin, his light, wavy brown hair falling over his forehead. “It fits my mood. I’d hate to have to come face-to-face with a delivery person.”
I hefted my computer bag onto the marble counter that separated the kitchen from the living room, with expensive-looking rattan stools for seating. The barstools and the rest of the furniture in the apartment didn’t match Jack’s faded sweatpants style, but it was sophisticated and nice, and I wasn’t complaining. “I’ve been meaning to ask—did you pick out the furniture in here?”
He laughed. “Why? Doesn’t it look like me?”
I shook my head sheepishly.
“I did not pick out the furniture in the apartment. My best friend has much better taste than me, and I couldn’t be bothered at the time.”
Best friend? Must be a girl. Even my rich ex-boyfriend didn’t have taste this good, and he had a diamond-encrusted Dubai First Royal MasterCard his mom got him for his twenty-fifth birthday. There’s a lot of stupid shit you can buy with a card like that, but it can’t buy good taste.
“You’re welcome to whatever food I have,” I said. “I wouldn’t want you to have to venture out into the wild.”
He kicked up another smile. He was handsome, with an athletic build and a playful disposition. Before my ex, I would have found it awkward to live with a man that good-looking and not trip over my own two feet. But ever since my breakup, I hadn’t been able to muster up any energy toward the opposite sex. So Jack was safe. I appreciated the easy smiles, though. Made living with him pleasant.
Landlord Devil, on the other hand, whose preferred expression was a sneer, was a whole other issue that I hoped would get better in time. Fingers crossed.
“I know, right?” Jack said. “Why return to the land of the living when I can stay in for a week or two?”
Despite the easy smile, I got the sense Jack was hiding from something. He stayed in way too often for a good-looking guy in his late twenties. “Hey, what’s the deal with Max Burrows? He slipped this letter under our door this morning.” I reached for the piece of paper I’d stuffed in my bag and handed it to Jack.
Dear Sophia Markos,
Please abide by House Rules during your tenancy:
No loud noise between 10 P.M. and 8 A.M.
No pets.
Notify landlord of needed repairs within 24 hours.
Apartment and common areas should be kept clear of debris and strong odors, andmaintained in an orderly fashion.
The Management
Max haddouble-underlined that last part, the ass.
Jack’s eyes quickly took in the letter, and his face drew down as though he’d smelled something rotten. He looked up, balled the paper, and tossed it basketball-style into the trash, where it hit the side and fell on the floor. “Ignore him,” he said and picked up the note and dropped it in the trash.
I paused for a moment, trying to make sense of it all. “Why’s he so uptight?”
