Bad Boy's Lust (Firemen in Love Book 1) (12 page)

His idea was so wild, it just might work. If I could manage to convince Elle, I'd be doing something I never in a million years thought I would do.

I'd be getting
married.
I'd have a
wife.
A fake wife, but still.

I had done lots of frightening things in my lifetime. I'd run into burning buildings, rushing through the flames to rescue people before their house collapsed on top of us all. I'd dragged a couple of kids down three flights of stairs while limping on a broken leg. Every day on the job could be the day I died.

But marriage? Commitment to
one woman?

I had never been so damn scared in my life.

Chapter 10 - Elle

“We're screwed, Elle.”

Just the words I wanted to hear first thing in the morning. Heather had a bunch of papers spread across the front desk. The dark bags under her eyes worried me. Looked like she'd been up all night.

“What happened this time? Another financial catastrophe we can't afford?”

“Oh, we've got plenty of those.” She held up a paper with some sort of graph on it. “It's only the start of May, and already, we've got five more empty units.”

I reviewed the sheet. We'd lost that nice family of four in 321, the old woman with dementia in 130, the quiet single father from 404...

“What's going on? Why are so many people leaving?”

She waved her hands in the air. “Look around. This place is a dump. It's outdated and ugly.”

I bristled. “I prefer to think of it as 'historic.'”

“It hasn't been updated in years. Mom was a good manager, but she hated spending money on stuff that wasn't deemed necessary. She would rather keep cash on hand for repairs instead of buying brand-new appliances or making the place look pretty.”

Debbie always had been a sensible, frugal lady. She was more concerned with utility, the bare necessities, than style and flash. Sure, Shady Acres didn't have a fancy exercise room or an Olympic-sized pool. The walls hadn't been painted in years, nor was the carpeting ever replaced unless a cat peed on it or something.

But what the place lacked in amenities, it made up for with fair rental rates and the best customer service you could ever ask for. Of all the apartments around, Debbie offered the cheapest rent and rarely raised it.

Probably was why the building needed so much work – and why tenants were getting angry with me. Only a few months after her death, and I upped the rent by $50 per month for everyone.

It was a fair up-charge given the average rates in Waco. More than fair, actually. I didn't want to do it, but this was my business now. Without the extra money, this whole place would be shut down and fast.

Too bad the residents didn't quite understand that.

“I hear people talking around here.” Heather's eyes lowered. “They say the place has gone downhill since mom passed. They're not too happy with the change in management.”

“What? I bust my ass for this place every single day. I don't even take a day off!”

She shrugged. “They say you take too long to respond to complaints and handle work orders. Hiring Lisa to help was a good step, but not enough.”

I grunted and kicked the trashcan. “I can't handle everything by myself at the speed of light. They want fast service, yet they don't want their rent raised. How am I supposed to bring on new people when it's not in our budget?”

“I don't know. It's tough even
finding
people to work for us. We hired that Marty guy to be the new janitor, and he left after two days. Then we caught the next one trying to steal from the tenants!”

“Run background checks on every potential hire from now on.”

“Yet another thing we gotta pay for.”

Where the hell was Jayce in all of this? He owned half the building too. Said he wanted to keep it. But of course, like always, he skirted out of responsibility.

It was fine to keep the property, he had decided, so long as I handled all the dirty work.

I was so pissed at his lazy attitude, and mad at myself for being stupid enough to sleep with him.

I mean, he
was
good. Better than good.

Amazing with his hands. Skilled with his mouth. And
very
talented with his extra-large appendage...

But being a great lover didn't make up for who he really was: a trouble-making bad boy who'd rather get drunk and screw strangers than take care of business.

“Anyway, that's not the only problem. People are leaving for other reasons.” She pointed to a web page on her computer. “We're apparently no longer the cheapest in town.”

“Hidden Cove Apartments,” said the banner at the top. “Come discover your new dream home.”

I stared at the photos. It was a brand-new complex full of cute, charming little buildings, each one with four apartment units inside. The exterior was painted a soothing forest green with clean, white shutters surrounding huge windows.

Inside, the unit boasted vaulted ceilings, hardwood flooring, stone counter tops, and all-new stainless-steel appliances. Other photos showed off the manicured lawns, a picnic area, exercise facility, pool, and even a bike trail that looped around the lake.

“What in the world is this?”

Heather winced. “They recently opened in west Waco. Rent starts at $650 for a one-bedroom unit.”

My heart skipped a beat. Only $650 for all of this? Our one-bedroom apartments went for $700, and we had nowhere near what Hidden Cove offered.

“As you can imagine, we're losing quite a few to them.”

Rarely did I give up on anything in life. Once I decided I was going to do something, I worked at it until I achieved my goal. Unlike Jayce, I didn't toss up my hands and quit when the going got rough.

But I sure felt like quitting now.

“How can they rent for so cheap? We're barely covering costs even
after
raising rates.”

“Not sure, but I do have one guess. Shady Acres is privately owned. Hidden Cove is owned by a property management group called Homes Plus. They've got apartment complexes like this one all over the country.”

“Meaning they've got the money to pull this off. What they're losing in lower rent, they're getting back in higher occupancy.”

We couldn't possibly compete. Once tenants got wind of the cheaper place, they'd be moving out in droves. And the moment we lost more than five percent of residents, Jayce's father would be all over us.

Not to mention that Jayce was never going to marry. He hadn't said a word about it in over two weeks, since that online-dating fiasco at the club.

Since the night we spent together in his bed...

“You're right, Heather. We
are
totally screwed.”

She typed something quickly and then scribbled notes on a piece of paper. “It's okay. It'll be all right. We've just got to figure something out to keep people from leaving, and a way to bring new folks in.”

“Oh, is that all? Easy.”

The office phone rang. She snatched it up, then winced as a woman's shriek nearly blew out her eardrum.

“Yes, Mrs. Mason. Please calm down so I can understand you.”

“Understand
this!
I'm sick and tired of those people next door, always screaming and fighting at all hours. I work nights, ya know, and I'm trying to sleep!”

“Next door?”

“That couple in 211. I hear them arguing every single day – no thanks to these thin walls.” She snorted. “They break stuff, too. Heard glass shattering last evening before I left for my job. Why, they're going at it again right now, and I can't get a wink of rest.”

What did she want us to do about it? I knew the couple she was talking about, and from looking at them, they had serious problems – problems suited for a marriage counselor to solve, not an apartment manager.

“We'll tell them to quiet down,” Heather promised.

“You had better, or I'll have the police pay them a visit.”

Just great. Last thing we needed was the cops snooping around here. Then again, if these two were getting violent, maybe I
should
let the law handle it.

Heather hung up and showed me her puppy-dog eyes. “Can you go talk to 211? I'm super busy with all this paperwork, and Mrs. Mason doesn't sound like she can wait.”

“Fine, but you owe me.”

I raced upstairs before someone else could call and complain. As soon as I hit the second floor, the screaming echoed all the way down the hall. Something hit the wall with a loud, resounding
thump.

I prayed that the two hadn't started throwing punches and banged on the door. The couple quieted.

“Now look what you did. I told you to shut the hell up, Craig.”

“
You
shut up, woman! You're the one who started in on me.”

I knocked again. At last, the woman – Diana was her name – came to the door with the phoniest smile I had ever witnessed.

“Oh, if it isn't Elle.” She said it loudly so her husband got the hint. “What brings you here today?”

Boy, did I ever suck at handling conflict. This was harder than telling Jayce to stop having such loud sex all the time.

Except now I knew
why
he was so loud. The memory of his hands on my body was one I'd never be able to forget.

“Um, I hate to bother you guys, but we received notice that you were being a little bit loud. If it's not too much trouble, could you keep it down in here?”

Craig appeared behind his wife. He looked me over with a scowl.

“Who was it? Who complained about us?”

I stepped back, fearful that he might attack
me
next. “It was an anonymous tip.”

“Right.” He grunted. “Tell you what. You want us to pipe down? Tell my witch of a wife to shut her trap!”

Uh-oh.

Diana gasped and pushed him, almost sending him flying backward over the coffee table. She had quite a lot of strength for such a tiny woman, but now was not the time to be impressed.

“How dare you!” She turned to me. “Let me ask you something, honey. What would you do if your loser husband
stole
money from you to play the lottery every single week?”

“Woman, don't you bring her into this.”

“I really shouldn't.” I raised my hands as if to shield myself from her. “It's not my place –”

She went on. “Every week he takes my hard-earned money and wastes it on the Mega Millions – which he's never won, by the way, and never will.”

“You don't know that. At least I've got a chance of making it all back.”

“Right, one chance in
five billion.
”

“What about you? You spend ridiculous amounts on your stupid nails all the time, and your hair too. I think that blonde dye has seeped into your brain. No wonder you're such a psycho.”

I hoped they'd forgotten I was there in the midst of their fight. No such luck.

“Do you hear the way he speaks to me? Borderline abuse, is what this is.”

Their next-door neighbor banged on the wall.

“Shut up in there, will ya?”

They did not shut up. Back and forth they went, asking me every few jabs what I thought about their “useless buffoon of a husband” and “a wife who complains about everything.” Not once did they stop long enough to hear my opinion – thankfully.

I watched the hateful display in shock and awe. Did all marriages end up like this at some point? I'd never really seen a couple that was truly happy. Heather and Zach were the closest pair, but they weren't married yet. Maybe they were smart not to get hitched.

My own family had been such a mess long ago. Mom flirted with every man she met while dad worked his hands to the bone trying to support us. I had no proof that mom cheated, but was pretty sure she'd been unfaithful from time to time.

The stress of it gave dad a heart attack, which he somehow survived. That was his wake-up call that he had to move on. I didn't blame him when the two divorced and he moved to California, far away from her as he could.

A teacup smashing into pieces against the wall got my attention. White shards of ceramic flew in all directions as the dark liquid seeped into the carpet. The bill for steam cleaning was already tallying up in my head.

“Don't you
ever
call me that again, asshole! I've had enough of you talking to me like one of your whore girlfriends!”

Craig gaped. “My girlfriends?”

“Oh, you know who I mean. I go off to work everyday and leave his butt alone in here. Says he's doing his job on the computer, but I know better.” She crossed her arms. “Elle, tell me the truth. You've seen other women coming in here while I'm gone. Haven't you?”

No, I hadn't.

Wait. Now that I thought about it, there
had
been a girl knocking on the door shortly after Diana left one morning. I'd only noticed it because I was up here to get rid of the dead mouse in Ms. Fielder's apartment.