“It figures that the first person to visit that snob is a suit,” the intoxicated man mumbled. He looked Lucas up and down and then muttered, “I should’ve been charging her more rent. She’s obviously doing well.” He then turned around and shouted for Amy.
“Amy, you have some high and mighty guy here to see you,” he said before walking away from the door. Lucas hoped that was the last he would see of the man. He couldn’t understand how she could feel safe with him nearby.
Lucas heard a door creaking open somewhere in the house and then Amy was standing before him. There were no other words to describe the look she gave him other than horrified. She looked like a deer caught in the hairs of a crossbow and he knew that she would rather sink through the floor than stand there in the filthy house and speak to him.
Amy felt her heart pounding. She was sure that he could see it through the thin shirt she was wearing. How had he found the place? She was sure that he was horrified that she could live in such horrible conditions but she’d been willing to do anything and everything to get through school, even if that meant sleeping in a place she wouldn’t want to even give to an animal for shelter.
Lucas would’ve found humor at Amy’s look any other time but with her standing in the filthy house with that disgusting man nearby made all traces of humor wash away. He wanted nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and remove her from the house. She was far too vulnerable and naïve to survive in such an environment.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Lucas asked between clenched teeth.
“Mr. Anderson, how did you find this place? I’m only here temporarily, I swear. I’ll be moving into those apartments in just a couple of weeks,” she sounded anxious.
“I made a few phone calls. You were in such a hurry to get away from me last night you left your purse in my car,” he replied. She looked down and noticed him holding her purse.
Amy reached out to take the purse from him but he held it back and then he finally stepped inside the doorway. She backed away from him, avoiding physical contact. “Mr. Anderson, there’s really no need for you to come inside. I appreciate you bringing me my purse but I was just getting ready to step out.” She wouldn’t make eye contact with him and he could barely stop himself from grabbing hold of her chin and forcing her head up to meet his gaze.
“Let’s get your coat. We need to have a talk,” was all he said in response to her. Those words finally made her look up and some color came back into her washed out face. Good, he thought, he would much rather see her angry than embarrassed or defeated.
“You may be my boss Monday through Friday, Mr. Anderson, but the weekends are mine to do as I please,” she heatedly stated. “You can see yourself out.” She turned towards her room expecting him to leave.
She didn’t know him well if she thought he could be dismissed so easily. He quietly followed her into her room and shut the door behind them both. She turned around at the sound of the door shutting and glared furiously at him.
“You just don’t listen, do you?” she shouted. “I told you I have things to get done today. I’m more than willing to let you be the boss during the week but my personal time’s my own and I don’t owe you any explanations,” she finished, losing some steam.
Lucas barely even heard her words. Her room was almost homey. He didn’t think there was one speck of dust anywhere in there. It was small, very small. His walk in closet was bigger than her room but he was impressed with how neat and tidy everything was.
She had a wire hanging up against the far wall with clothing hanging on it, some of which was going to give him more sleepless nights. She also had some sort of bucket in the corner with laundry soap next to it. On the other wall was a small dresser with a little fridge and burner on top of it. The walls were painted a nice shade of lavender.
In the middle of the room, just a couple feet in front of him, stood her twin sized bed. It was made up with a very appealing quilt on top. The bed seemed to be sitting on some sort of blocks.
He could see that she’d put some real effort and time into her little area but unfortunately placing a china bowl into a sewer didn’t make the sewer any better to be around. You didn’t see the beautiful bowl; all you saw was the muck around and on it. His only thought was how could anyone live in a place like this?
Well, that was his only thought until he looked at her bed again. Her bed, which she'd just gotten out of a few hours ago; the bed he wanted to throw her on right then. His pants were far too tight and there was a bead of sweat breaking out on his forehead the longer he stood there.