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I warned him from the beginning that we want to try to work with the people here as much as possible but it’s funny how afraid he is to anger them. Still, this is what I mainly hired Maren for, to smooth over disagreements between management and tenants.
“Let’s go find out. We can go ahead and get these distributed,” I tell her, picking up the stack of papers.
I lock the office behind me and hand her a duplicate key. “So you won’t need to wait for me to unlock it in the mornings. Dylan has one too.” She nods, pulls out her key ring, and attaches it.
The mail has just been delivered, judging by the few people standing around the mailboxes on the corner. A thin man with hair almost to his ass hands something to the older guy beside him who gives him some money. They aren’t exactly discreet if I’m seeing what I think I am. “Is he selling drugs?”
Maren glances over at them. “Nah, they’re loosies.”
“Lucy’s?”
“Individual cigarettes. And before you get your panties in a twist over Didi, she has what we call a porch store. She buys chips, drinks, stuff like that in bulk and sells them cheaper than the convenience store. Plus, some home baked stuff. So, you’ll see people in and out of her place. We don’t have a drug problem here anymore. There were a couple of meth addicts that used to live in lot eleven, but they abandoned it recently.” Her feet come to an abrupt halt, and she turns to me. “Unless you have a problem with weed. I know it isn’t legal here, but it’s legal barely thirty miles away across the state line. If you plan to have a zero tolerance on that, you may as well evict everyone right now. There would be nobody left.”
Her dark blue eyes flash in the afternoon sunlight while she stares up at me, eyebrows raised in expectation.
“I smoke weed.” My words don’t reassure her.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“You think I’d be a hypocrite and police people for something I do?”
Shrugging, she continues down the sidewalk. “I don’t know you.”
“The benefit of the doubt would be nice.”
“Too bad I doubt your benefits.”
Clever and quick with the comebacks. I can’t resist teasing her. “Come on now, you’ve seen my benefits.”
She glances over at me and rolls her eyes. “You said you could be professional.”
“You just talked about my twisted panties and getting stoned. Do you really want to keep to a professional standard?” Her glare is her only response until I add, “You don’t know Dylan either, but you’re nice to him.”
“He’s a contractor, not a slumlord cosplaying as one.”
No one has asked me what I do for a living since I arrived. They’re likely operating under the assumption that I don’t work and it’s understandable. A lot of people in my position have never had to keep a job. “You think you have me all figured out, huh?”
“I don’t need to figure you out. I need to do my job just like you do.” Our conversation ends as we walk past the filthy toilet sitting on the lawn. A woman who looks to be in her mid-fifties hovers in a window as if she’s guarding it. She pops the door open when Maren and I walk up her steps.
“Hey, Donna.”
“Maren,” she says, warily. Her gaze flits to me, and back again. “Are you fraternizing with the enemy?”
“I’m making sure they don’t screw anything up.” A self-satisfied smirk sits on her face when she glances at me.
Dylan accused me of being attracted to women who are mean to me. That isn’t strictly true. Strong and sassy has always been my type, but until today, I don’t think I’ve ever been turned on by a woman who holds such a low opinion of me. It triggers something in me.
Donna and Maren talk for a moment about her position as my assistant, then Maren asks her about the toilet. “They’re trying to get the yards cleaned up before spring. Is there a reason that you won’t let them remove it?”
“It’s a reminder to Milton, and I want him to see it every time he leaves the house,” Donna says as we follow her down the steps to the toilet in question. It’s grimy and damp, with a few wet leaves sticking to it. “Remember when I told you I caught him with some trollop down at the bar?”
“I do. You sure made him pay for it,” Maren replies, and they grin at one another. “I’ll bet his balls are still recovering.”
I’m tempted to interrupt and ask what fate befell the man’s balls but it’s probably better not to know.
“Well, I found out that they’d been seeing each other for a while, and he had the nerve to dip into our savings to buy the floozy a new toilet when hers cracked. He had it installed and everything.” Donna pulls her oversized cardigan around her tighter as the wind picks up. “So, I called my brother, and he went with me. We walked into that strumpet’s house, yanked it right out and took it with us.”
Maren covers her mouth while I look away to bite back a laugh. Picturing someone charging into a house to repossess a toilet is too much. Maren seems entertained if not a tiny bit shocked. “Did she call the cops?”
