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"I know how to have fun just fine," I retorted, my voice tinged with irritation. "But right now, my priority is taking care of my responsibilities, and I would need it to be worth it for me to ignore them."
His jaw dropped. My point, that he wasn’t someone worth hanging out with, hitting home.
With that, I stood, grabbed my bag, and headed towards the door, leaving Dr. Kevin behind in the break room, his smug expression replaced by a scowl.
If I wasn’t sure that the other doctors would side with Dr. Kevin, I would have reported him ages ago.
I stepped out of the office and into the fresh air, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes for a moment, trying to center myself.
I could do anything for a…
Fuck.
* * *
I was feeling slightly better after the walk to my apartment. I lived in a studio shit hole, but it wasmystudio shit hole, and there was something to be said about that. I’d done my best to make it livable…I’d painted the walls a bright cream color and scrubbed it from top to bottom when I’d moved in.
But there was no central air, just a window unit that only operated if the temperature was below seventy-five…rendering it pretty useless. The carpet was old and threadbare…and so dirty when I’d moved in that I had to spend money I didn’t have to get it professionally cleaned. Cleaners I’d hired had done what they could, but it was still this questionable gray color, and there were stains all over whose origin I never wanted to know. The kitchen sink dripped, and there was no oven.
And those were just some of the things wrong with the place.
But I made it work.
I sighed in annoyance as I walked through the very unlocked front gate and up the steps to my apartment. Every month, when I paid my rent, I’d ask my greasy landlord, Jared, to fix the gate. And every time, he’d ignore me. It would have been nice to have an extra barrier between my apartment and our sketchy street considering all I had on my door was one flimsy lock…
Speak of the devil. I’d been in my apartment for less than five minutes when there was a knock on my door. When I peered through my peephole, there was my landlord, Jared Thomason, himself. As I opened the door to greet him, I was met with the unmistakable sight of a man who had let himself go. His sweat-stained shirt clung to his massive belly, and his pants were unbuttoned and barely hanging on. His thinning hair was slicked back, and his beady eyes scanned me up and down, leaving me feeling exposed and uncomfortable.
His leering gaze lingered on me for a moment too long, and I could feel his hot breath on my face as he leaned in. The sour stench of his breath filled my nostrils, and I had to suppress a gag.
I tried to keep my eyes from wandering to his flabby arms and the thick layer of hair that covered his knuckles, but it was impossible to ignore. He was like Jabba the Hutt in human form–grotesque and repulsive.
"Hey, Monroe," he wheezed, his eyes roving over me in a way that left my skin crawling. I was on the third floor, so I’m sure the trip up had been a journey for him. "I just wanted to see if everything was okay with your apartment."
I forced a smile. Of course, he was just checking…he was always checking. But any time I told him about all the things that were, in fact, not alright with my apartment…he had decidedly not been interested.
"Yes, everything's fine. Thanks for asking." I moved to close the door, and he stepped closer to me, sticking his foot in the door. "You know, Monroe, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. A beautiful woman like you…all alone."
That wasn’t creepy at all….
“How about we go out for a drink tonight?"
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. As if I would ever want to go anywhere with this creepy old man. "No thanks," I said, trying to push the door closed once more.
But he wasn't finished. He reached out and grabbed my arm, his grip tight and insistent. "Come on, honey, don't be shy. I know you barely make rent. I could help you out…if you know what I mean."
My stomach churned. This was the last thing I needed, the last thinganyoneneeded.
“I could waive your rent for a few months if you spend some time with me."
My heart raced, and I worked to control my breathing. I didn’t want him to know how terrified I was. I tried to yank away, but his grip only tightened. "Let go of me," I hissed, my voice shaking with anger.
He chuckled, as if I’d actually complimented him. "What's the matter, sweetheart? You're not into older men?"
My stomach turned as I continued to try and pull away from him. Obviously, this was wrong, but I also knew I couldn’t afford to lose my apartment. I took a deep breath, pushing down the anger choking me, and stammered out a reply, "Not really. I—I’ve got to get to work."
Jared squeezed my arm, his voice growing angry. "You ungrateful little brat. I'm doing you a favor, and you won't even consider it? You're lucky I haven't kicked you out on the street already."
"Jared, I just want to be left alone. I can't accept your offer. I'm sorry."
