Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
My heart begins to pound, and my cheeks color. This man is absolutely gorgeous, and even from a distance, I can see that he has a strong, square jaw, broad shoulders, and black-as-night hair. He’s wearing a perfectly cut suit that skims his athletic frame, and his eyes pierce my heart even from a distance.
But there’s nothing I can do. I can’t throw myself at this man’s mercy and ask him to save me from Kenneth. I can’t beg him to let my mom keep her apartment. Instead, the only thing I can do is to walk out of here with my head high. Lifting my chin, I try to exit with grace and dignity, given the hopelessness of the situation.
But as I depart the office, I can feel the forbidding man’s gaze roving over my form, drinking me in. Who is he? Unfortunately, I’ll never know.
3
Xavier
I knock on my son’s apartment door. There’s no answer. I knock harder. Finally, some shuffling sounds take place and the door finally creaks open to reveal the clammy, chubby lump that is my son Kenneth.
Sometimes, I wonder how we can be related. After all, Kenneth looks nothing like me. I’m six foot four, with dark hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin. Kenneth is about five foot nine, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and pink skin. We don’t look like we share any genes whatsoever, much less that he could be descended from me.
But it’s my ex-wife’s influence. Honey was a pale blonde, just like Kenneth, and he’s inherited her peaches and cream complexion. The problem is that on a woman, peaches and cream look attractive; on a man, peaches and cream just looks ridiculous.
And that’s what Kenneth is at this moment. He’s pink, flushed and sweaty, appearing more than a little disheveled in his oversize t-shirt and track bottoms. He opens the door a crack and peers at me suspiciously.
“Hey Xavier,” he says sourly. “What’s up?”
My eyebrows raise.
“Why the cold greeting?” I ask. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
Kenneth peers around the hallway as if there are spies, and then nods.
“In fact, you did,” he says. “I was in the middle of watching a movie. Can you come back?”
“Which one?” I ask, ignoring his request.
Kenneth grows red and stammers a bit.
“It doesn’t matter which one,” he says. “I was watching a movie okay? Some World War II documentary put out by Netflix.”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. I can smell a lie from a mile away, and my son definitely wasn’t watching a World War II documentary.
“Listen, if you were watching porn, then fine. I don’t care okay? You’re almost thirty. Give your old dad a break.”
Ken seems to think for a moment, but then he shrugs his shoulders and opens the door to let me in.
“Suit yourself. You own this building after all, so do as you like.”
I roll my eyes again while stepping into the apartment. Aw, fuck. It’s so disgusting in here. Sometimes I wonder why I even let Ken live here for free, seeing that he doesn’t take care of it at all. Old pizza boxes are littered everywhere, and there’s disgusting unidentifiable gunk caked all over the countertops. A sour smell emanates from the trash can, and I bet it hasn’t been taken out in weeks.
But the kicker is the large flat-screen TV on the wall. Sure enough, two women are locked in an embrace, with one woman’s head planted between the other’s legs. The one who’s getting her twat licked has her head thrown back in ecstasy, her face a rictus of pleasure. The two women are completely nude, and at this moment, frozen in their desire.
“I can press play again,” offers Kenneth helpfully. “I think you’d like this one. It’s called Belinda Loves Tamara.”
I shoot him a disgusted look.
“You know, I don’t have anything against porn because we’re guys. We have needs. But seriously, this place is a dump. Why are you living like this? Do you not see the trash that has to be taken out? The counters that need to be cleared? Have you asked Maria to come by recently? Obviously not, given the state of this place.”
Kenneth merely rolls his eyes.
“No, I haven’t asked the cleaning lady to come by because she was stealing from me,” he says flatly. “I was going to fire Maria.”
I stare at him.
“Maria has worked for me for twenty years, and she has never touched anything in my home that she wasn’t supposed to. I trust her with my life.”
Ken shakes his head stubbornly.
“No, she was stealing from me. I swear.”
I let out a huff of impatience.
“Okay, then what did she take? What could you have that she wants?”
He shrugs.
“She took a couple of my video games,” he says. “You know, my copies of Just Dance 3 and Arctic Battleship.”