by Jax Hart
I clicked the link to file an appeal. Two could play at this game. He wanted to cancel me? Fine! I’d cancel him. If I can’t be renter, he can’t rent out. An eye for an eye and all that!
I spent a good forty-five minutes cultivating an exceptionally fine email, explaining how Mr. C.C. was harassing me, borderline being sexually inappropriate with his misogynistic tone using screenshots of last night’s messages and pasting them in.
“There!” I clicked send, feeling satisfied. It felt good to try to get even, but it still didn’t solve my issue of finding a place to live. I did a quick Google search for a realtor and sent them an email explaining who I was and what my situation is using Kell, Dr. Winnfield, and Gran as references.
Within an hour a realtor had sent me three listings. None of which I could remotely afford—except one. A one-bedroom third floor apartment above an animal shelter. The housing came with strings. The tenant must be willing to check on the animals twice during the night for reduced rent and rights to the dock. Blowing out a huge breath, I sent in an application with a 50% deposit. I love animals. All kinds. Knowing me, I’d end up with more than one in the upstairs apartment. And with that dock…. I can put Pop’s boat in and collect my own water samples. Fish. Paddle board. Live the good life. It came together in my head. It was such a sweet deal I knew I had to get it. I found the number to the animal shelter online and called.
“Shorehaven Animal Rescue.”
“Hi. My name is Ryan Hill. I just filled out an application about the apartment upstairs…”
“This is Steve, I run the place. It’s a nonprofit. I own the building. My wife and I are expecting so we need more space. You good with animals?”
“I am.” I smiled wide. “I’ve just accepted a spot at Duke’s Marine Research program. They had an opening. It’s hard to find affordable housing at the shore though.”
“That it is. Let me look over your application. The realtor just forwarded it to me.”
“Great! Call me with any questions or if you’d like to meet me in person first.”
“Will do. Talk soon.”
I sighed. There was nothing left to do but wait. I had settled everything earlier this morning with the admissions office. My credits were transferring. Tuition and board would be direct deposited back into my checking account. I was packed with nowhere to go. I was squatting on a campus with nothing left for me. I wrote Gretchen a goodbye note, wheeled my suitcase out then came back for the rest of my stuff. I’d crash at Gran’s new house outside of Raleigh. She won’t mind one bit. I’ll surprise her. After all, I owe Gran so much. Her Christmas gifts meant so much, but her wisdom was priceless.
Fourteen
I sat rubbing my temples, eyes downcast. My hands itched to wipe everything off my desk, pick up my chair and smash it against the glass windows. Of course, I didn’t. Instead, I pressed the red button that instantly connected me with Bunny.
“I need two Advil, a 24oz iced-cold Red Bull and the name and number of the head attorney for the OBX rental app.”
“Fetch your own medicine. I’m busy.”
“Please. I’m dying Bun-Bun.”
“That’s what you say every day.”
“I’m serious this time.”
“I forgot to tell you. A reporter from KAB called. Another from the Raleigh Register. They all want the scoop on Mr. July. The city’s very own bachelor attorney philanthropist.”
“Fuck me,” I groaned, head pain throbbing increasing. “Please, have mercy on me, Bun. S.O.S.”
“Well, I did tell them you were a very busy man.”
“You answered questions?”
“Just a few…”
“Bun,” I growled, the litigator in me rising. I interned with a divorce attorney practice in college. They were ruthless fuckers. It wasn’t the best match for me, but I learned how to be cunning and slick in a court of law.
“I need names.”
She rattled off the information of the two reporters.
“I need answers to the questions they asked. Verbatim.”
I jotted down what she had told them, growling low as she spoke.
“… well, you are single. Married to your job and you do only eat salads… they wanted to know your workout routine.”
“I don’t have one,” I snapped. Well besides, hammering shingles on a roof, refinishing floors and soon, mulching the gardens. Who knew owning a fixer upper was such a good workout?
“Am… am I fired?”
“That depends,” I growled again. A deeper one this time, low in my throat. “If you make me another lemon cake. Sugar and gluten free this time.” I raised my eyes, meeting hers through my glass office wall. She rolled hers.
“Fine.”
“And no more talking to reporters.”
“Noted.”
I hung up to a new notification from the rental app. Just when I thought my day couldn’t get worse. After I scanned the message, I sat up so fast, my chair rolled backwards crashing into the wall. My blood pressure was so high I expected my exploding head to pop off.
I was suspended from renting out my shore house. Ryan Hill had filed a countercomplaint alleging harassment and misconduct on my part. Her deposit was being held in the company’s escrow account pending an internal review of the both of us.
She just fucked me good and hard. All those summer renters bringing good income to pay off the house just went out the window.
Fists curled, I paced in front of twenty feet of glass. Looking out on the city below, I felt my jaw tic. She riled me. My blood was hot fire coursing through my veins. I wondered what she looked like. How old she was... What her least favorite food was so I could tie her up and force feed it down her throat.
My account was paused, not inactivated. I opened up the app, resuming our email chain conversation from the day before.
From: homeowner1278
To: [email protected]
SUBJECT: GAME ON
This is war. You don’t know who you are messing with. I’m coming for you.
Game on sweetheart.
After I hit send. I shuffled the contracts I was reviewing in my briefcase, followed by my laptop and texted Hunter to meet me at the gym. I had some major testosterone flooding through me, and I needed to sweat it out. If I couldn’t do it with a woman, the gym would suffice.
“Damn, bro that was a personal best.” Hunter racked the weight as I took a towel and wiped my forehead. “Who is she? The last time I saw that fired-up look on your face was when you saw Elena Fields at the freshman bonfire party.”
I swigged some water, following with a smirk on my lips. “And I got her too.”
“So, who is she?”
My brows furrowed. “An annoying gnat.” I quickly gave Hunter the rundown on Ryan Hill, how she played me, leaving my shore house littered with sex toys then got me suspended from the rental app.
“Did you keep any of the stuff?”
I shook my head, water bottle in hand pointing a finger at him. “and that’s why I keep you the hell away from Charlie.”
He rested his hands against his heart. “She’s it for me bro. My dream gal. If you let me have a shot at Char, I’d give up all my dirty ways.”
“Yeah, right,” I snorted. “How about never on that one?”
“Well, like your granny always said. Make lemonade out of lemons. I say we make some friggin’ spiked lemonade. You, me, and all the summer shore ladies. Forget renting it out bro. Use it. You spent all winter down there, you deserve to reap the fruits of your labor and all that.”
“It’s setting me back big time.”
“So? You’re a trust fund baby, remember?”
“That money was for my future wife and kids.”
He tapped his index finger against his skull “How else are you going to find your future wife and have those kids? What if she’s at the shore bro and passes you by because you rented out your house and never met?”
All of a sudden, I was out of br
eath. Having visions of the blurry mystery girl from my dream in some other dude’s arms while I sat on my porch alone petting a fat tabby cat.
“Hell. Fine. One summer. One summer while I sort this mess out.”
Hunter’s fist pumped, “It’s going to be epic. Just like old times.”
“Old times? Keep your lips and hands off my sister.”
“Fine. She’ll just have to put hers on me.” I chucked my towel at him, picking up sixty-five-pound dumbbells for bicep curls. I did three sets of twenty per arm, a hundred pushups in between sets. I sweated out my anger, my frustration and need to know just what in the hell I’m going to do with the wayward renter who’s causing a shitstorm of trouble for me.
“Is it him?”
“It is.”
From behind me came high-pitched excited feminine whispers. I turned my head mid curl. From over my shoulder, I took in the two blondes wearing tight spandex with full make up on their faces. They weren’t here to workout. They were here to hunt.
“Um, hi.” One of them shifted on her feet.
“Not interested,” I muttered, turning back to the mirror while I counted my reps.
“I am.” Hunter schmoozed forward, grinning while he flexed his own biceps making them giggle. Rolling my eyes, I racked the dumbbells before picking up the heavy gym ropes on the floor to do a shoulder workout.
“He is Mr. July, right?”
“He’s shy. What about me, check out these pecs. You think I could make a calendar?”
“Ooh, definitely.” More giggling followed.
A small tap on my shoulder in between sets was met with a scowl. Unfortunately, it still didn’t deter blondie number one. “Would you take a selfie with me?”
I blew out a breath. I hated being a dick to a woman. That wasn’t me. But if I could press rewind, I would’ve told Char and Carlos to pound sand. “Sure. But as you can see, I’m sweaty.”
“Oh, I don’t mind a little sweat,” she murmured eyeing my pecs through the soaked fabric of my workout shirt.
“Can you… do you mind taking it off?”
“The last time someone asked me to do that I ended up in a calendar.” I gave her a tight smile.
“Please?”
I pointed to the sign of gym rules posted above the mirror. “Can’t break the rules.”
She cozied up next to me, plastered her hand across my pec and snapped her selfie. “Any chance you could sign my calendar if I bring it here tomorrow?”
“Um, what?”
“KZRG FM was giving them out at the station. They bought a bulk custom order.”
Both nerves around my eyes began twitching. “I’m going to kill Char,” I muttered to Hunter.
He laughed, put his arms around both ladies and walked them out. I took out my cell, feeling all the adrenalin I thought I had worked off coming back full force.
“Hey, baby bro!” She answered my call in her sing-song voice.
“I’m at the gym Char, taking selfies with my fans and they want to know if I can sign the calendars the local radio station just bought. In bulk.”
“I couldn’t refuse. They placed an order so big, the printing costs were minimal. We raised enough to rescue Kiki,”
“Kiki?”
“A captive dolphin at a hotel resort in Barbados. She’s free thanks to your killer smile and abs.”
“Good for Kiki,” I grumbled, still pissed at the ambush. “You could’ve warned me, Char.”
“I did try calling you, but you never returned by voicemail.”
“Yeah,” I ran a hand through my hair. “I’ve been busy.”
“With lucrative contracts?”
“Not quite. I had my first rental.”
“I’m sure they loved it!”
“So much they trashed the place,” I snorted.
“What?”
“I was conned, by Ryan Hill. Instead of a weekend getaway for his pregnant girlfriend, Ryan who is a she by the way—threw a raging bachelorette.”
“A bachelorette. Sounds tame.”
“I found dick gummies everywhere. I’m traumatized.”
“Please. I’ve been to a lot of bachelorettes. It’s nothing but drunk girls and plastic dicks. Or gummy ones. Tame.”
“They spilled my favorite bottle of red on the white sofa.”
“Charge them.”
“I did. She filed a complaint against me. After I filed one against her. It’s a mess. The app froze all future rentals while they investigate.”
“So? Go to a different app or use the realtor.”
“Maybe. Maybe I’ll just take a break for a while and use it myself.”
“I took the week of the 4th off…”
“Is that a hint? Hunter wants to relive our glory days….”
“Might not be a bad idea. You’ve earned a summer off after climbing that corporate ladder.”
“If I don’t fall off. Diersky is trying to take me down.”
“Diersky? Please. He’s nothing but an empty suit.”
“Just warn me next time you sell bulk calendars to a local business. My new PA is already fielding calls from reporters.”
“My baby bro is famous.”
“Hardly. I just made partner. I don’t want Diersky to make me a joke.”
“Spin. You know how to do it. It was just a photoshoot for a charitable organization. Big deal.”
“I was selling sex appeal and you know it.”
“I’ll save you a spot in next year’s calendar.”
“Don’t you dare, Char. It was a one-time thing.”
“That’s my line. Who are you talking to?” I held the phone away as Hunter strolled back.
“No one.”
“I’m no one?” Char shrieked.
“Is that my future wifie? Let me talk to her.” He motioned for my phone.
“I’ll talk to you later, Char.” While one hand pressed the phone to my ear, I swatted Hunter away with my free one.
“Is he seeing anyone?” Char asked.
“Yeah, my left fist.”
He came at me and we crashed to the gym floor rolling like two idiots as we fought for possession of my phone. It was juvenile as hell but for a few minutes I totally forgot about Ryan Hill.
Fifteen
“You must be Ryan.”
I liked Steve immediately. He was about ten years older than me, sandy-haired, with a surfer’s lean body and kind eyes. The rescue center was full of sounds. Paws scratching against crate doors, cats hissing at the dogs joyous barking that someone new was here. Maybe someone who would finally take them home. A few injured birds even chirped from cages hung in the window.
“Wow.”
“Is it too much?” He winced.
“No. I just, my heart already hurts for these cuties. There’s so many…,” I trailed off walking down the aisle of crates and cages.
“Some got left behind from summer. Who knows how? None are microchipped. Others were born strays. Our local vet takes care of them free of charge and we’ve had enough donations to cover vaccines and medicine.”
I wrung my hands as I locked eyes with a pudgy Corgi. “That’s Daisy. She’s seven and gets a reoccurring eye infection. Her owners surrendered her after saying the eye drops were too expensive to keep up with.”
I gasped, reaching my fingers through the metal crate to scratch her ear. “She loves walks on the beach, hot dogs, and a good nap.”
“Who doesn’t?” I smiled.
After giving me a brief tour of the facility, Steve opened the backdoor. There was a mid-size yard littered with dog toys and a trampled garden. “My wife tried. They loved her pansies.”
I stifled a giggle at the trampled flowers as he led me up a long set of deck like stairs. “You have a private entrance. It’s not much,” he shrugged apologetically, “but it’s clean. Well, minus the dog hair. I used to keep some of the dogs up here at night. We bought new furniture for our new place. You’re welcome to use anything you see.” The leather couc
h was worn but still inviting. A lobster pot doubled as a coffee table. My eyes were drawn to the view. Water views from every window, and the dock across the street.
“I’ll take it. Immediately.”
“You sure?”
“On one condition,” my lips turned up. “That I can walk Daisy whenever she needs one.”
He smiled with his eyes. “Done! Daisy has a few friends that love walks to. Roscoe, especially. He’s a young lab/retriever mix. But he’s more of a runner than a walker.”
“I need to trailer my boat, but I hope to have it in the water by next weekend.”
“Not a problem. Help yourself to the paddleboard and kayak out back.”
Steve printed the paperwork from the realtor. I signed everything, wrote a few checks and he handed me the keys. I had hope on my side and my Jeep was packed with my things. I moved in that night. I slept on the couch, ordered a new bed and mattress online. I woke up to the fresh ocean breeze blowing back the curtain. I grabbed my cell to check the time, noticing I had a new notification from the rental app that I never saw yesterday. I sat up, awake now.
From: homeowner1278
To: [email protected]
SUBJECT: GAME ON
This is war. You don’t know who you are messing with. I’m coming for you.
Game on sweetheart.
My fingers typed fast:
To: homeowner1278
From: [email protected]
SUBJECT: GAME ON
I find it hard to believe you are the actual owner. Your lack of maturity tells me you cannot possibly be an attorney or the homeowner. You’re probably his son or deranged step-son. Do yourself a favor and seek professional help.
P.S.
Thank you for giving me another email to use in court. I look forward to receiving my deposit back in full since you never provided me receipts.
“There.” Satisfied, I got dressed and went downstairs. “Morning, Daisy!” I opened her crate, gave her a tiny biscuit while clipping a leash on her collar. “Steve! I’m taking Daisy to the beach!”