She held her ground and narrowed the opening before she took the papers he thrust in front of her. “What is it?”
Tilting his head, he peeked through the crack. Checking to see if she was alone? He threaded beefy fingers through a three-strand combover. “Now that it’s just you, we have to renew the lease. Sorry to tell you, but rent’s going up.”
She wilted against the door, even as defeat threatened to crush her. “Did you get my request for a one-bedroom?”
He smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “Nothing available.”
“Okay,” she said, lifting the new lease, “I’ll look at this and get it back to you.”
She started to shut the door, but his booted foot blocked its path. The force sent a vibration through the metal and up her arms. Her heart pounded. Her mace was in her bag. She’d have to start keeping it out, within reach. Better yet, having it in hand every time she answered the door.
“I might be able to help you out”—he leaned in—“if, you know, you’re willing to help me.”
“No, thanks, I’ve got it covered.”
He removed his boot and smiled again as he walked away. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
Jo slammed the door and turned the deadbolt. Lambert’s laughter echoed down the hall as she backed away, the leaseshaking in her hand, an overwhelming fear rising up to choke her. Right on its heels came a sudden rush of anger.
What the hell? Alone for five minutes and that motherfucker thinks he can scare me?
Then it hit her. A mere two weeks ago, she’d heard the same damn offer, in nearly those exact words. She and Brooke had laughed about it. Yet never once had she been afraid of Avery.
She fingered the card in her hoodie pocket. He’d been a dick, sure, and if she were honest, a challenge. Deep down, she’d enjoyed their banter as much as he claimed to. And it was true; he was a danger to her in all the ways her grandma had cautioned against.
But this was different, more menacing, more threatening. She’d never felt more vulnerable. Lambert was a predator.
With a fucking key.
With Brooke here, she’d felt a false sense of safety, but alone…and after a break-in… There were worse things than a stolen TV. Aaron was right to want Brooke out. They should have left a long time ago.
As much as she hated to squeeze one more expense into her already tight budget, she had to find somewhere else to live. The problem was, without a job, she’d never make it past the application stage.
Grabbing her phone from the kitchen counter, she sank onto the sofa and pulled the business card from her pocket. Viv thought she should call because he was hot. Brooke was on board for revenge. Jo just wanted to feel in charge of her life again.
And hey, if she was going to prostitute herself, might as well be with the hot guy with all his hair and teeth and lots of money.
****
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Avery glanced from the aerial photos on the big screen behind Nick to his phone lying face down on the conference table. Somehow, Tits, aka Hilary Brant, had gotten his phone number and kept sending him pics of her…assets. The last thing he needed was for said assets to pop up on his screen at the wrong time, in the wrong place, in front of the wrong person.
He hadn’t responded to her. Not because he hadn’t enjoyed looking at her tits or added them to his spank bank, but he sure as fuck hoped she held no misconceptions that he wanted anything more from her. Of course, she knew he’d looked at them. She’d called him on it, then sent a kissy face emoji and another pic.
He needed to block her. And he would. Soon.
Shifting his phone to his lap just in case, he tapped the screen and—
Mood killer.
Mom: Just a reminder about the benefit at the library tomorrow night.
Like he’d forgotten since the text she’d sent yesterday. And the day before that.
Mom: 7 p.m. Don’t be late.
Okay, this one was on target. He never got anywhere he didn’t want to be on time.
