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“No, I’m good. Do you want to take off?” Dylan is here to help me with the cleanup and repair side of things, not management. There’s no need for him to be here for this.
“Hell no.” With a wide grin, he plants himself in a chair at the end of the first row.
After giving him a surreptitious middle finger, I head to the front of the room and announce, “If I could have your attention, we’ll get started.”
There’s a general murmuring while everyone finds a seat and before I can speak again, a woman sitting a few chairs down from Dylan shouts. “How much are you raising the rent?”
The room falls silent. Okay, I guess we’ll jump right into it then. The woman who asked sits bolt upright in her chair, clutching a purse on her lap. Her expression screams confrontation.
“No one’s rent is going to be increased. That’s not why I’m here Ms….”
“Karen!” a voice calls from the back of the room. It sounds like it came from the group of teenagers standing along the wall.
The woman spins in her chair and throws a withering glare behind her before facing me again. “Susan Sproul. I am not a Karen!”
“Shh, don’t make her call the police,” someone fake whispers loudly.
“The overflow pipe outside our place turns into a shit fountain once a month. Are you going to do something about that?” The question comes from the corner of the room where three older men sit together.
“Yes, come and talk to me after the meeting so I can get some more information.” Before things can get any more out of control, I add. “I’ve met a few of you already but for those I haven’t, let me introduce myself. I’m Cooper Addington Junior. I own Happy Haven and I’ll be living here for the foreseeable future while we work to get all the repairs finished. I don’t want to take up all your time this evening, so I’ll fill you in on a few changes, and then I’ll be here to answer any questions you may have.”
“Changes,” Susan scoffs. “Here we go.”
Ignoring her, I continue with all eyes on me. “Let me start by apologizing for the conditions that you’ve had to endure. I want to assure you that all the requested repairs are going to be made. You may have already had a visit from the electrician or plumber today, and if you haven’t, they will be knocking on your door soon. Please, don’t hesitate to tell them what needs to be fixed and let them in to check it out. You will not be held responsible or charged for any damage. If you’d prefer to do this by appointment, we can make arrangements. I’m aware this will be an inconvenience, and I’ll do my best to work around your schedules to keep the disruption to your daily lives as minimal as possible.”
A huge man whose hairy stomach hangs out of the bottom of a stained army green shirt interrupts me. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the man Dylan dubbed Paw Paw Underpants. “Nobody better knock on my damn door again. I don’t need anything, and you can’t come in without my permission. I know my constitutional rights.” He sits back, crossing his arms. “You ain’t taking my guns.”
Maren looks over at him. “Shut the fuck up, Gary. Nobody wants your guns. Do you want your shower fixed or not?”
“Please do. I can smell you from here,” an elderly woman adds.
Gary ignores her as he and Maren glare at one another until he replies, “Fine. By appointment then. And I’ll be overseeing to make sure nothing gets stolen.”
A snort comes from Ronnie, who sits beside Maren. “He’s rich, you idiot. What’s he going to steal from you? Your living room patio furniture?”
A wave of laughter rolls over the room. This would be a good time to let them know the good news before things escalate. “As I said, I know it’ll be a hassle dealing with the noise and interruptions, but it’ll be worth it in the end. In the meantime, all rent is waived for the next six months.”
That gets everyone’s attention. “Waived?” Freda repeats.
“Canceled,” I clarify.
“I know what waived means. What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch. No one should be paying to live in these conditions. Rent will resume on August first, assuming the repairs have been completed by then. Also, if you decide to move out instead, no penalties will be charged for breaking a lease.”
“Don’t fall for it! That’s what he wants, to empty this place out. If you don’t pay, he can evict us all and his problems are solved. Pay your rent,” a voice shouts over the din of multiple conversations.
Maren stands up and holds up her hand. The room quiets, and she faces me. “You’re going to have to put that into writing.” Her eyes land on mine, challenging me. Her tee shirt that reads Eat the Rich is a nice touch.
“That was my intention.”
“Individually addressed to each tenant by name and lot number,” she insists.
My skin prickles as she tells me what I’m going to do. It’s not an unreasonable request, but it’s not a request. It’s a demand, and she crosses her arms, staring me down while she waits for my response. Her fiery attitude would be attractive if it wasn’t sure to cause problems for me. Strong, fierce women are the sexiest.
Since she wants to be line leader of this group so badly, I hold out one of the clipboards and a pen to her. “Absolutely. To do so, I need a list of all the tenants and which lot they reside in. The property management company has misplaced a lot of the paperwork. If everyone could jot down that information, it’ll expedite things. Anyone who prefers to arrange appointments for repairs, please include a phone number as well.”
I offer the other clipboard to Susan and neither takes one for a long moment. Maren studies me like I’m a bug that may bite her. Finally, she accepts it and starts writing her information. As soon as she does, Susan follows suit, and the clipboards begin to make their rounds through the room.
