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
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
Similar Books
