Please rate and review. There are several parts to this story. If there is interest, more will be posted.
Amanda Carr was biting her nails, a nervous habit, as she used her foot to rock the car seat holding her infant son, Christopher. The Reagan Arms apartment complex office was warmer than it really should have been, and her little boy was on the verge of being both hungry and fussy. To top it off, the apartment manager had asked her to wait while he wrapped up a few things regarding new residents a good 15 to 20 minutes ago, and she was still waiting. 'If he doesn't hurry up, I'll have to come back,' she thought to herself. While she was holding off her son's crying for now, soon he'd be hungry and wailing in spite of her best efforts. After all, he was only 3 months old and had been getting over a cold—'he's perfectly entitled to being a little cranky and his well-being is more important than waiting all afternoon for Terry,' she kept telling herself.
In truth, Terry Allen made Amanda Carr uneasy. It wasn't that he was unappealing to look at. Her last apartment manager, Mr. Sweeney as he'd preferred to be addressed, was a short and round unsightly man who made it a point to always brushed against her any opportunity he could get. Terry was the opposite. He was black, very dark, and tall. She guessed about 6'2 or 6'3 and well built, an obvious gym fiend. She thought he was at least in his middle 30's. At their first meeting, when Amanda had been interested in renting from him, he had explained to her that she would get a discount rate at the gym across the street, which he also frequented. "I'm trying to level out on weight," he'd explained. "Protein to get me to 245 lbs., working out to ensure it doesn't turn into fat," he had said. On the surface, he seemed friendly and polite by listing off the perks of living at Reagan, despite it's downtown and somewhat scummy location, including nearby eateries, grocery stores, and the like—hell, he was almost gentlemanly compared to the type of man that typically lived and worked around this part of town. There was just something unsettling about him, however, that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Perhaps it was the way he looked her in the eyes when he spoke; a direct and intent gaze that made her feel insecure, for lack of a better word. Or maybe it was that, with most men, she could get a read on them, and Terry was off limits. Needless to say, she typically made it a point to avoid him and any awkward conversation, as in the beginning of her time at Reagan two years ago, she wanted to avoid any awkward conversations should he press her for a date.
Amanda herself was quite the looker, and always had been. She was naturally blessed with a tall and thin frame. Perhaps if she had more money and better connections, she could have even made it as a model. At 5'9, she was taller than most women and could easily pull off a tight, form fitting pair of skinny jeans. In fact, today she wore a pair that hit low on her hips and the black shade did wonders for accenting her new post-pregnancy curves. A 24" waist made the svelte 21 year old a knockout as it drew more attention to her 35" hips and round, heavy now size 34 C natural breasts that were full of milk. Although her pregnancy had been good to her, in part due to her healthy eating and the other part due to staying as active as she could possibly be without hurting her son, she still felt insecure now that she was curvier and womanlier in shape. Before the baby, most men tried to put the moves on her, and on a good day she couldn't blame them, not even Terry. Her chestnut brown hair fell just at her breasts and had natural loose, sexy waves from the jaw down. She was naturally pale, with an alabaster flawless complexion complimented by bright green eyes, long and dark lashes, rosy cheeks, and pouty, full lips. Nowadays, however, she doubted even Allen would be pressing her for anything except for her overdue rent money.
While the rent wasn't awful at $400 a month, it had been tough to come up with the money since giving birth to Christopher. Her boyfriend had long since split, not wanting the obligations of a child to take care of, and had yet to send a dime of child support, so it was up to Amanda to provide for not only herself, but a child as well. Her parents had been troubled all her life, and at eighteen she had left home. Last she had heard, her father was back in jail on drug charges (and it didn't look like he'd be out anytime soon), and her mother was still screwing a man who was well known to be a drug dealer. As an only child whose parents were a mess, she had no one else to turn to for help. Luckily, she had qualified for certain government assistance programs, as much as she had hoped she could make it on her own, and the cost of baby necessities was reduced, though not nearly enough. Diapers were still expensive, and she already worked 40 hours a week in a lowly retail position that, luckily, gave her just enough commission to earn above the minimum wage. While she did her best to save up before the baby came, and made it a point to return to work earlier than suggested in order to make ends meet, when her young son became sick and could not be taken to the daycare, Amanda had no choice but to use almost a week's worth of sick days in order to stay home and care for him. In doing so, she had missed out on a profitable week at work—there had been a great sale going on, which meant more people were out buying, and to a commissioned sales associate at a high end department store like hers, it meant more money on next week's paycheck.
As she sat there in the office, surrounded by outdated magazines and uncomfortable, practically broken down furniture and thought about how hard she was struggling financially, Terry's booming voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Amanda," was all he said when he stepped out of his office and crossed his arms, leaning against the frame of the door. "I had a feeling I'd be seeing you in here sometime this week. You get the notice that I left on your door?" he asked.
"I... yes," she answered.
"I left one in your mailbox last week, too," Terry reminded.
"I know, Terry. I've just been so busy between work and caring for the baby, and Christopher got sick, but wasn't responding to the antibiotics the doctor gave him, so we've had to try more, and he's barely sleeping, and..." the young woman rambled, stopping herself short the second she realized she was doing so. "I meant to call."
"Yeah, well," the man shrugged, giving the new mother a once over that made her lower her eyes and pretend she hadn't noticed. "Come on into my office so we can talk in private."
With a nod, Amanda stood up and quickly, but subtly, tried to adjust her top. Since her pregnancy, she'd gone up a full cup size. It had been a financial hassle to purchase two new pairs of pants to accommodate her newfound curves, and in no way was she able to find extra money for tops, so she had to make do with what she already owned. Needless to say, while her tops fit, they were snug at her hips and she almost always looked as her breasts were squished in them. "I can't stay long, the baby will need to eat soon," she told the man, feeling his eyes on her as she leaned over to pick up the baby's carrier.
"You can use the kitchen here to warm up his bottle, if you'd like. Nancy isn't back from lunch yet, so there's no one to bother you. Here, I'll take him," Terry offered, stepping out of the door frame to assist Amanda. He grabbed hold of the bottom of the carrier securely before using his other hand to take the handle, his own hand covering hers until she pulled away quickly.
"Thank you," she murmured. "He, ah, well I haven't... I didn't bring a bottle with me. I planned on taking him back to my apartment so he could nurse," she explained, cheeks turning her naturally luminously pale skin a pale yet rosy shade of pink.
"That would explain the change of figure, then," Terry smiled at her, not even being subtle as to his staring at her breasts. "Motherhood looks good on you, Amanda."
She cleared her throat. "I... could we talk about my rent? Please?" she requested, walking ahead of Terry into his office and making sure that the door was open enough for him to bring in the baby.
Terry laughed lightly and sat the baby down in his car seat next to the chair meant for renters and prospective ones. "We certainly can. That's the nature of your visit, is it not?" he asked her as he closed the office door to give them some privacy should anyone else come into the waiting area.
"Yes."
"Well, then, let me just see what's going on here," he told her, moving to the file cabinets and opening the one that was labeled A-C. "Carr, Carr, Carr," he said her name in repetition as he shuffled through the current and past tenant files. "Ah, Amanda Carr. Here we go," he licked his bottom lip absently as he pulled out her file and sat down behind his desk.
'You know my name, Terry, just hurry up already,' Amanda wanted to snap. "I know I'm behind on paying my rent," she substituted instead. "And now there is a fee?"
Terry grabbed a calculator out of the top drawer of his desk, quickly punching in a few numbers before looking up at the woman. "Your rent was $400, due on the first of the month," he stated. "Neither I nor the office secretary was informed you'd be late, and you didn't leave a message on the after hours machine either explaining you would be, so you were penalized, yes."
The uneasy feeling in Amanda's stomach grew. She couldn't afford her rent, let alone late fees. "How much are the late fees?"
"Well, as per your rental agreement, for every day you are late on making your rent payment, you'll be charged an additional $10. You're currently at..." he paused, punching in some numbers on the calculator once more. "$170. You owe an extra $170 in late fees, Amanda. Tomorrow that will be $180, and so on. And you need to consider, next month's rent is coming up as well."
Before Amanda had a chance to object, or even break down in tears over her money woes, her baby started to fuss. "Oh, sweetie, I know," she tried to soothe, leaning down to unbuckle him from the seat and then lift him up into her arms. "Shh. Be good for me," she whispered with a kiss pressed to his forehead.
Terry watched her with intent and leaned back in his office chair. The baby nuzzled against his mother's cheek when she kissed his forehead and was now rooting against her hand. He was hungry. "Why don't you feed him?" he suggested, the boldness causing Amanda's head to shoot up and her eyes to widen.
"Terry!" she said with clear offense. "I already told you, I don't have a bottle on me. I don't mean to rush you, but the quicker you can make this and tell me what my options are, the less of a chance there is that he'll start crying."
"Oh, come on, Amanda. The boy's hungry. He needs to eat. You don't want to deny your growing child adequate nutrition, do you?" he queried, the grin on his face making it obvious he was interested in watching the woman feed her child.
