Natalie opened the door for her new landlady. This wouldn't have been so bad, except for the fact that Natalie used to own this house. Now, she had lost all the equity she had built, and the place was sold from beneath her feet. And who was the buyer? Someone Natalie loathed: Charlotte Lamberton.
"Good morning, Nat!"
Charlotte was dressed in her usual sundress and strappy sandals, practically smirking at Natalie as she strolled into the home that was now hers. She had on a pearl necklace, and carried a large Starbucks frappucino. She kicked off her sandals and waltzed into Natalie's living room, placing her bare feet on the coffee table atop one of Natalie's literary zines.
"I brought over the new lease for you to sign. Oh, and I need the deposit -- does three thousand work for you?"
Natalie seethed inwardly as the bitch smiled at her. It took all the restraint in her body to nod in agreement. Charlotte wasn't satisfied.
"What sort of host are you?" the blonde woman joked, "aren't you going to offer me something? Food, a drink, a foot massage?"
She wiggled her toes a little, and Natalie watched as some dirt fell from the woman's soles onto one of her favorite publications.
"Would you like anything, Charlotte?" Natalie asked through gritted teeth.
"I prefer Miss Lamberton. But no, thank you, I don't want to put you out. I know you need to save money. Come on, let's get this over with!"
Natalie balled her fists and approached the plutocrat that had bought up her home. The bitch could carry a grudge, that was for sure.
A few years back, Natalie had been drinking wine and saw a post on Charlotte's Instagram. Basically, the woman was showing off all her designer clothes while insulting people who couldn't afford such luxuries. Natalie found this particularly offensive, and she posted a cutting remark that made local news. Charlotte was spiteful enough to keep tabs on Natalie for years, waiting for her chance to get revenge.
Eventually, Charlotte learned that Natalie was struggling to pay her mortgage. When Natalie's house went up for auction, Charlotte bought it with cash on the very same day. Now she was Natalie's landlord, but it was worse than that of course.
Natalie blanched as she read the rental agreement.
"The rent is eighteen hundred a month??" Natalie asked. It was practically the same as the mortgage she was paying beforehand!
"Yes, Natalie," Charlotte answered, savoring the girl's outrage, "That's the fair market price for the area; take a look around if you don't believe me."
"But that was a mortgage for an entire house! This is just to rent single room!"
"Well yeah, that's how it is structured," Charlotte said, "I mean, I like this place! It's cozy. I want to stay here too sometimes, to watch over my investment."
Natalie blinked, and felt her cheeks going red. Charlotte watched with amusement; she had been waiting until the last moment to spring this little surprise on Natalie. What better revenge than to make Natalie live under her thumb? To have the girl rent a place she used to own, and admire all of Charlotte's nice things up close and personal while obeying her stupid rules?
"But what about these rules?" Natalie asked, glancing at the ridiculous number of blank spaces she expected to sign her initials.
"I can't have guests over after 6PM or before 10AM? Quiet hours? I have to maintain ALL common areas?"
Charlotte felt a thrill as Natalie rattled off all the humiliating points of the contract. That would show the little leftist bitch to question power. She pictured the brunette girl sitting quietly in her tiny little room, cursing her own stupidity for crossing a superior woman. No time for yoga classes or organic food now!
"Listen Natalie," Charlotte began, "those are the rules. You can take it or leave it, but if you leave it you have to be out of here by next week. There are several people interested in renting your room."
Natalie grimaced as she read the other points: this 'rental agreement' was downright exploitative. If she signed the lease, she knew that Charlotte would have countless ways to boss her around. But what was her alternative? She didn't have any family nearby, and she didn't have enough money to find another place. Also with her recent foreclosure, no landlords would rent to her.
"Char-- I mean, Miss Lamberton," Natalie started, annoyed at having to address the woman so formally.
"Can we at least take out the part that says I have to maintain the garden?"
"No, sorry," Charlotte said with mock sympathy, "I have a very specific way I like things, and if you are my tenant I expect you to maintain things to my liking."
Natalie didn't have a lot of options. She initialed the document countless times -- certainly more times than was necessary. She knew that Charlotte had designed it in such a way to humiliate Natalie by making her sign away so many of her rights one by one. All the while, Charlotte sipped her cold drink and admired her pedicure.
"Do you have the deposit and first month's rent?"
"Yes, Miss Lamberton," Natalie murmured.
Defeated, she walked into her room and pulled out the $4800 that represented the last of her life's savings. She went back to her hated rival and handed her the cash, watching her dazzling smile as she counted all the bills. A single piece of Charlotte's jewelry cost more than all that cash, and she was wearing quite a collection.
"Awesome! Listen Natalie, I know this is hard for you," Charlotte said, "but I think this can really work out for both of us. Maybe by being around me, you can learn how rich people think. And I can have you around in case I need help. Oh, speaking of, could you fetch my sandals please?"
Charlotte was grinning sweetly, but Natalie knew the underlying threat. If she misbehaved, the woman could quite easily have her out onto the street by upping her rent due to the month-to-month nature of the agreement. Natalie nodded, and went to fetch the woman's well-worn leather sandals. Seeing them up close, she noticed that there were deep indentations where Natalie's toes rested along with other signs of wear.
"My back kind of hurts today. Could you please help me with my shoes?"
Natalie glared at Charlotte, but the woman knew she had her beat. Without a word, Natalie knelt before her new landlady and helped guide her feet into her sandals. Charlotte said, 'thank you,' but that didn't lighten the mood. Natalie badly wanted to wash her hands after touching that woman's feet. She hated feet.
"Okay, so just get all your stuff out of the master bedroom, and I'll be back tomorrow to move my stuff in! See you then."
Charlotte left the house, and Natalie went to the sofa and sat with her head in her hands. There was a copy of the rental agreement on the coffee table, for her records. She couldn't bring herself to read it again, so she just went into her old bedroom and began the long process of moving out.
**
Things got worse for poor Natalie, and they got worse rather quickly.
Charlotte moved all her stuff into the new home, with Natalie's help of course, and immediately started bossing the girl around.
"Oh, Natalie. I kind of have this thing about feet," Charlotte said when she noticed that Natalie was barefoot, as she usually was in the comfort of her own home.
For a moment, Natalie got her hopes up: maybe Charlotte wouldn't want her to touch her feet after all!
"Like, I don't like seeing anyone else's bare feet. It sets me off," Charlotte said.
"So whenever you're at home, you need to wear socks or something. Here, I got you these."
Charlotte reached into glossy paper bag and pulled out an offensively pink pair of ballet slippers. Natalie just looked at her.
"Well, come on!" Charlotte said, handing the shoes over to Natalie.
With a sigh, Natalie slipped them on her bare feet, noticing that they were just slightly too tight. Her toes felt a little scrunched together, and the length of the shoes was just barely too short -- her feet were noticeably constricted. As soon as one shoe touched the floor, there was an audible tapping noise that rang out. Were there taps on these shoes?
"Yeah, I hate it when people sneak up on me. Like, if I'm going to share this house with you, I need to know where you are. So just keep those on whenever you're at home," Charlotte demanded, not bothering to hear Natalie's answer.
The brunette girl frowned as she looked down at her feet, now encased in the soft pink canvas of her ballet slippers. She loved going barefoot -- it gave her a sense of freedom and power. Now she had on girlish little slippers that clicked with each step. And after a few moments, the tightness became even more obnoxious -- maybe it had something to do with the pointed toe?
The wealthy woman had hired movers to transport all her heavier stuff, and she did nothing to help them except order them where to place each item. It pained Natalie to see her former room full of another person's stuff -- even worse that it was that bitch Charlotte Lamberton's things. She had entire boxes of designer shoes and handbags, the exact sort of luxuries that Natalie found pointless and wasteful.
"Natalie would you help unload my boxes please?" Charlotte asked, sipping sweet tea while watching some right-wing news program Natalie despised.
"Um, I can't," Natalie said, already afraid of offending this woman. "I have work in half an hour."
Charlotte narrowed her eyes for a moment, but quickly regained her composure.
