by R. J. Blain
I bet the bastard had come to my workplace to make yet another offer to get me to move.
I worked through the orders until it was his turn, and bracing for the worst, I went through the ceremonial greeting and asked for his order.
“Busy night, Joyce,” he commented, regarding the menu as though he hadn’t just spent twenty minutes waiting for his turn. “I can’t decide, so pick your favorites, give me six orders worth of it, and surprise me for the drinks. It’s to go.”
For fuck’s sake. One of these days, he’d really kill me, but I went to work tapping in my dream order, which involved two different salads, a Big Mac, six chocolate chip cookies, two regular cheeseburgers, three grilled chicken sandwiches, and twenty nuggets. As his nose couldn’t tell if I had the virus thanks to my perfume, I’d play as an uninfected human for a while. I gave him unsweetened iced tea, and then I duplicated the order six times before submitting it and gesturing to the digital display. Then, as I still had receipts showing I’d purchased all of these things in my wallet, I showed him as proof.
He chuckled, submitted his payment, and checked my receipts. “I’m impressed.”
“You asked me for my favorites. I just happen to have a lot of favorites, so I give myself variety.”
I was sure the businessman could afford the bill, which was about average for a lycanthrope during a virus spike. My blessed perfume kept my food bill tolerable, although I could eat through a shameful amount of food during a spike.
At the moment, a spike would break my bank account and force me to take on more shady work, including picking up a bounty or two from the legalized system.
“So I did.”
As the payment processed and because my co-workers would kill me if I didn’t help make sure his monster order went through without a hitch, I left the register and began gathering what I could, tallying off parts of the order as they finished and triple-checking everything. I bagged everything as efficiently as I could, although I expected the lycanthrope would make two trips to his car.
At least the rest of the customers understood lycanthropes could eat a ridiculous amount, and nobody peeped a complaint. I counted that as a miracle. Within five minutes, thanks to more miracles in the back, I sent Wayne on his way. I breathed a relieved sigh when he left.
My virus whined, as it recognized Wayne as a single lycanthrope male of the appropriate species.
I needed a new life, but rather than bitch about it, I went back to work and thought curses rather than mutter them.
Wayne tripped my virus’s trigger, riled her up, and turned the rest of my shift into a living nightmare. My virus viewed every customer as a potential mate, although she ultimately rejected them all. Wayne leaving in possession of my favorite foods made her long to follow at his heels and beg for more than just dinner.
Unfortunately for both of us, dinner would be the last can of tuna in the cupboard, my next pay was in a week, and rent was due on Monday. Fortunately for both of us, I’d planned for the rent, but I would have approximately five cents left over when I finished paying it.
A hungry lycanthrope became a cranky lycanthrope, and cranky lycanthropes ran a high risk of picking fights. My virus, when hungry and cranky, went for the businessman who wanted to buy out my building and put me on the street. Reminding her that he wanted to turn the apartment complex into an office wouldn’t help.
She cared about food, mating, and puppies, and not necessarily in that order. On a bad day, my virus surged and goaded me into heading to the nearest playground to watch the children play, the closest we were getting to puppies without catching a man. Although she was essentially a somewhat sentient disease lurking under my skin, my virus understood the food problem.
When I couldn’t afford to eat, I couldn’t afford to eat, and that was that. When the going got tough, the tough went to the nearest state park, became a wolf, and hunted for mice and other small animals to take the edge off until the tough could afford to pay for dinner. The virus helped a lot with the hunting, as she hated starving as much as I did.
I finished my shift without incident, wished the restaurant offered free meals instead of decent discounts, and headed home, debating how I’d handle my weekend. With exactly zero prospects for dinner for the next week, I’d either have to pick up an easy bounty or spend my weekend hunting.
The next week would more than suck, and I wanted it to be over with.
To add insult to injury, Wayne Barnes couldn’t leave well enough alone, and he waited in the lobby of my apartment complex armed with most of his dinner and one of the unsweetened iced teas I’d foisted on him.
What a dick.
Ignoring him might make him go away, and I marched for the stairwell, as the elevator had given up the ghost yet again and needed an exorcism to work.
“It seems my information on when you’d be getting off work was right,” Wayne announced.
Why was killing the obnoxious male illegal? “What do you want, Wayne?”
“Twenty minutes of your time in exchange for your favorite foods.”
I halted, and my virus perked up at his reply. She wanted the food first, and she wanted him for dessert. With a simple practitioner trick, I could heat my food back up to the temperature I liked without making it chewy, spongy, or yucky, a common problem with reheated fast food. A stronger, better woman wouldn’t have considered his offer at all, but when I faced a choice of my last can of tuna and free dinner, free dinner I could heat up myself to be perfect would always win. “I’ll give you twenty minutes of my time, but I’m not signing anything, and I’ll hope the sounds of my chewing drown out your prattling.”
Rather than become annoyed as he should have, he laughed. “I have a new offer for you, and I figured twenty minutes would give you enough time to ask your questions.”
Ugh. The last time he’d come with an offer to get me to move out, he would’ve paid for a year of my rent in a new place, which would have given me a year of life before I could no longer afford to live in Long Island, as my status as a single lycanthrope female barred me from having non-infected roommates. Without making at least three times as much, I couldn’t afford a new place.
Even if I scraped every penny for a year, I figured I’d be able to afford three months at the next cheapest place.
I hated picking up bounties. Bounties involved exposing my status as infected to the wrong people.
“I’m not going to have any questions because the answer is no.”
“Wait until you hear my offer before you decide.”
I grunted, but as he had food and was willing to share it with me, I waved for him to follow. “I said I’d listen. Don’t be surprised when the answer is no.”
“Stubborn woman,” Wayne muttered under his breath, and if I hadn’t been a lycanthrope like him, I wouldn’t have heard him. As such, I ignored his complaint and marched up the steps to the fourth floor, taking the opportunity to beat him to my apartment, unlock the door, and grab the spray bottle laced with wolfsbane perfume and spray it all over the studio apartment so he wouldn’t be able to detect the scent of my virus. The lemon air freshener in the bottle would also help cover my activities. I returned the bottle to its place on the stand beside the door and shucked off my coat, grateful I kept my apartment immaculate.
One never knew when the CDC might come calling.
Wayne meandered down the hall, talking to someone on his phone. I hadn’t heard the phone ring, so I assumed he’d been the one to make the call.
“I’ll call you back in half an hour,” the lycanthrope promised before hanging up. “Sorry about that, Joyce. May I come in?”
Well, he got points for being polite. He’d seen the other apartments in the building, and he’d bought out the other tenants already. I clung to my home, and I wondered how he’d work around me when he discovered I refused to move without an eviction notice, and the law sided with me.
For the moment.
“Come on in,” I replied. With a ha
ir over four hundred square feet, the place barely had enough room for me. The kitchen had no counter space, but I did have a full-sized fridge and stove. I sacrificed a lot of room having a kitchen table, but I needed somewhere to make my dinner when I did have enough money to cook.
The only upside was my bathroom, which had a fairly deep tub. Instead of a door, I had a bead curtain.
I missed having a bathroom door. My virus wanted to peep to see if Wayne looked as good out of his clothes as he did in them.
Ignoring my virus took work, and I sat at my kitchen table, which had enough room for two. Wayne closed the door behind him and joined me, skipping the awkward social dance and inviting himself to have a seat. He placed the drink in front of me along with the bulging bag. “My bribe for your time, Miss Gray.”
I thanked him, peeked into the bag, and laughed at the exclusive presence of salads, both of which were my favorites of the lot, as the rest cost less for more calories. “Too manly to enjoy a salad, Wayne?”
“I am absolutely the manliest man in this building.”
“You’re the only man in this building.” Not even the landlord lived in the building anymore, having accepted Wayne’s bribe while wishing the businessman luck on getting me to move out so he could continue his plans to take over the building. I removed the first salad, snagged the packet of dressing, and checked the label in the hopes pixie dust had made its way into the ingredients.
Alas, no dust for me.
I tore into the plastic, added the dressing to the mix of greens and grilled chicken, and began the ritual of stabbing the first bite of my dinner and dipping it into the dressing rather than shaking it or stirring it in like most people did. I took my time enjoying the mix of flavors, careful to keep from sighing at the relief of having something in my stomach after a long day of work. “All right, Wayne. What’s your offer this time?”
“Upon researching your income, your workplace, and your current rent, I’ve come to the conclusion your refusals are purely financial in nature. Most of my offers would put you in a good financial position for a year and only a year, after which you would suffer difficulties. You are a methodical woman, and as such, you are considering the long game. My prior proposals would put you in an unsustainable situation.”
Holy hell. Wayne Barnes had actually researched my situation and income? “You researched me?” I stabbed my salad, glared at him, and chomped, taking my general frustration out on the chicken and greens.
“Yes. I asked a member of my pack to look into your situation, and as he is a frequent consumer of fast food, he noted when you were on shift. I also did some research into the average pay rates of women working in a similar position as yours, and I calculated your hours from the information I have on your schedule. Thirteen day shifts of twelve hours a day is unhealthy.”
My brows shot up at that. Since when did he care about my hours? “Are you serious?”
“Very. As such, I’ve come up with a new proposal, one that would take your realistic financial situation into consideration.”
I snagged the straw, ripped off the paper, and stabbed the lid before taking a sip. There had to be some form of trap, one that would leave me either destitute or in dire straits of some sort after a year. “What’s the catch?”
“Well, you’d have to move out of here, but you’d find your new living accommodations pleasing, especially when you see the terms of your new leasing agreement. As pure monetary incentives aren’t effective on you, I tried to think of what might interest you. This apartment has minimal increases in your yearly rent and very restrictive terms in which you can be evicted, a factor in our current situation.”
Well, well, well. Wayne Barnes had a brain, and he even knew how to use it. Would wonders never cease? I stared at him and took another sip of my tea, opting to wait rather than nibble on his bait and start asking questions.
“You’re stubborn,” he complained.
I nodded and took another bite of my salad before getting up, taking the rest of my bounty to my fridge and stuffing it inside.
His bribe would keep me fed for at least a few days, and while I’d be hungry, I wouldn’t starve. I’d still take a look at the bounty system to see if there were any jobs worth taking to make up the difference in the meantime. Even if presented an offer I couldn’t refuse, I’d make him wait at least a week for an answer.
Nobody else seemed to put the man in his place.
“Are you the alpha of your pack?” I asked, addressing the next concern on my list, returning to the table and resisting the urge to scarf down the rest of my dinner. The rest of my salad needed to be savored.
The last thing I needed in my life was to be involved with a pack of lycanthropes, and a deal with an alpha was no deal at all.
“I’m not. I don’t have the time or the interest to act as an alpha, although I do enjoy a higher position within the pack. Should something happen to my pack’s alpha, I might end up with the job, but I’d rather that not happen. I prefer working as the pack’s accountant and general financial manager. I do have the authority to discipline within the pack, though. That puts me as a pack beta, and our pack is large enough to have several betas.”
“Would this agreement put me into contact with the pack often?”
“As much or as little contact as you want, with an exception.”
“What exception?”
“You would have to deal with me regarding your lease, as I’m the owner of the building you would be staying in.”
“You could just leave my unit alone and demolish everything else,” I grumbled.
“I’ll be turning this building into a commercial venue, and I plan to have the entire building torn down to its foundation and completely rebuilt. It would be rather challenging to do a complete rebuild while you were living here.”
Damn it. “Maybe I like this apartment.”
“You enjoy living in an apartment without a bathroom door?”
“It’s not like I need a bathroom door when I live by myself.”
“While that’s true, I find this arrangement to be offensive at best, and the day this building is demolished, I may directly help with the dismantling of this unit.”
Lycanthropes. Once they decided to do something, they did it, and I saw no reason to think Wayne was any different. I had my moments, too.
My refusal to move out counted as one of those moments.
“My offer would include a rather spacious bathroom with a door, and the tub is an upgraded model.”
“What do you mean by upgraded? Is it as deep as mine?” As a good bathtub might be able to convince me to leave if I could make the long-term math work, I abandoned my dinner to head to my bathroom. I pointed. “Is it deeper than that?”
An amused Wayne joined me, peeking through my bead curtain to have a look at my bathroom. “I can promise you it is deeper, longer, and wider. It also has a control panel, heaters, jets, and nice ledges for you to place things you might enjoy, including candles.”
My eyes widened at that. “It has a jet tub?”
“A rather nice one, yes. Upon researching your situation, I determined it would take some incentives in addition to ensuring your long-term stability to get you to do what I want. The inclusion of such a tub and some other creature comforts have short-term expenses but long-term rewards for both of us. The leasing agreement will list all amenities and luxuries I’m required to provide for you as your landlord, the restrictions on when and how you might be evicted, and the restrictions on when and how you can break the lease. You’ll find that portion of the contract to be rather strict, as you will be getting a lot of concessions from me, but you will be expected to remain for the full term of the lease.”
“Which is how long?”
“Five years, and it will detail renewal terms, rates of rent increase following your five-year period, and additional restrictions. But at the end of the five-year term, you will be able to move out without penalty, although I think you will fi
nd your future living accommodations difficult to beat. There are a few considerations I should tell you now.”
I nibbled on my salad to buy myself some time to think. “I’m listening.”
“I would pay for you to live in a nice hotel effective within a week of signing a contract until your new accommodations are ready, which will take two or three weeks. I will pay for your movers and any of your belongings that need to be kept in storage during this period of time. Your commute to work will be limited to thirty minutes each way, which I do understand is an additional burden and part of why I added some extra amenities to your accommodations.”
I’d do a lot more than accept a longer trip to work for some luxury and security in my life. A lot could happen in five years, but if I could make the finances work, I wouldn’t lead Wayne on for too long before I accepted his proposal and took him for all he was worth and then some.
The lycanthrope deserved to pay after annoying me for so long over where I lived.
I pushed my salad around in its bowl before stabbing a piece of chicken and nibbling on it. “What’s the catch? There has to be a catch.”
“As I said, the lease will be fairly restrictive. I won’t be able to show you the unit in advance, and you’ll be tied to a five-year term. In exchange, you’ll pay a reduced rent, which I will not be able to raise more than one percent every five years.”
“Wait, the rent restriction is for a single percent every five years?”
“Yes. The lease would bar me from raising your rent during its term, and I can only increase it by a percent at its renewal.”
“How much is the rent?”
“I will set your rent to thirty-percent of your earnings at McDonald’s, assuming you are only working seven hours a day and five days a week. I am guessing, due to the number of hours you work and the cost of your current rent, that you work part-time jobs to make ends meet, although I do not have any information on your part-time work.”