Temptation - Leigh Lennon Page 0,2
into a better place, but Murphy's law has never been my friend. I lost my job and haven’t paid rent for the past two months, so my ass is being kicked to the curb.
Relying on charity from someone I barely know, I’ll be calling her couch home for the next couple of months. She’s even secured me a job at a new club opening this week. I begged her until she took pity on me. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.
She’d been a waitress at the pit we worked at before it was shut down for health code violations. Kira had claimed it would be no skin off her back to lose her job since she’d secured employment at a private and swanky night club. “I can’t promise anything, sugar,” Kira crooned when I asked her about it. “It’s a hard job to get into. They only hire from within. But I’ll see what I can do for you, hon.”
Though I found this odd, she was able to line up an interview for me with one of the most handsome men I’ve ever met. He offered me a waitressing position in their upstairs restaurant. As long as I can make a pretty penny at this swanky place, my hope is to have a new apartment in a couple of months.
There’s so much I plan on doing differently with this money. Opening a bank account is first. But as I close the door to my sad little place, I know I’ll miss my solitude. I’ve never been handed anything in life. No, I’ve worked and scraped for all I have. All I own is five bags, and now it doesn’t even include my own address.
Ratty clothes and a couple of knickknacks are what I’ve been reduced to. With very little in my wallet, an Uber delivers me to the address Kira texted today. Looking up at the large skyscraper apartment building and the doorman, I scan the address again. “I think there’s some mistake.” The driver looks back, a frown crawling up on his lips.
“Lady, look, I have another call coming in. This is the address. If you want help with all your shit, you need to get out now.” Still parked on the street, I’m on the sidewalk when he throws my things at me. Handing him one of my last six tens for the tip, he takes a look at the little bit of money I’ve given him and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him.
The bags sit on the sidewalk as people avoid them as though they carry the Black Death. They aren’t pretty ones either. All the bags were things I’d found for my dumpy apartment, which were normally left in the lost and found at the dive bar where I’d worked.
“Ms. Lipton?” Turning my head, I meet the gaze of the kindest blues. This short and stout man in his sixties with white hair grabs three of my bags. In his voice, is a paternal kindness I’d never had with my own father. Maybe it’s pity sympathy because tears lace my eyes the second the driver leaves me on the curb with my riffraff like I am riffraff. “Ms. Singletary told me you’d be arriving today.”
I guess Ms. Singletary is Kira. I’d been so desperate for a place to stay that I hadn’t asked for her last name. Though his pace is slow, his intentions are sincere, helping me with my old and tattered luggage.
“Kira you mean, right, sir?” I ask for clarification. Though the fact he knows my last name is a good sign.
“Yes, Kira Singletary.” He touches my hand, a gentle Santa Claus smile covering his face. “Now, dear, you’ll be okay. I know it because Kira is a kind soul.”
I want to laugh because she can’t be ready for my type of crazy. She doesn’t need my money. But I wonder, with a place this luxurious, why she’d work at the dive bar where hands felt us up more than we’d both care to admit.
A minute later, we’re in the lobby with a young man behind the counter who’s on the phone, loud enough I can hear. “Yes, Ms. Singletary. Yes, ma’am. I can help her upstairs.” With a click of the phone, a young man appears at my side. “Ms. Lipton, I’ll help you up to Ms. Singletary’s apartment.”
Both men assist me as we load my things into the elevator, and the younger one escorts me to her floor. I swear