Chapter 2 A Princess In Distress

• "He… Hello, Mr. Jordan, good evening." I stuttered, hoping he ignored the cuss words I just threw at him. I mean, I didn’t know he was out there.
• "You have been avoiding my calls and those of my lawyer!" Mr. Jordan accused
• Yeah, that would make him the second person today. When I don’t know how to deal with a problem, I just decide to run from it, even if it eventually catches up with me. This is quite the case with Mr. Jordan here; he was my landlord, and I am three months behind on rent.
• "Oh. No, hehe," I laughed nervously, hoping that he found this funny as well, but his crumpled face said something different; he wasn’t having any of it. "I have not been avoiding you, Mr. Jordan; I have just been really busy." I lied for the umpteenth time today.
• "Of course you were. I would take it that you now have my rent," he muttered in between his mustaches, and my heart skipped.
• "uhm… I... I... Mr. Jordan, I need more time," I stuttered.
• If I thought he was angry before, I was wrong. Right now, it felt like his face was going to burst into flames. I could see the anger contained in his eyes.
• "More time? What more time exactly do you need? If you can’t pay for the house, then you should have left with your friend." he barked.
• "I am really sorry, Mr. Jordan; just give me one more month," I pleaded.
• "Are you kidding me right now? One whole fucking month?" He retorted, his tone reeking of disapproval.
• Mr. Jordan was right; I shouldn’t have stayed back after Jennifer moved out of this apartment; I should have left with her. I just thought I could handle it on my own, but I was just being foolish. Jennifer footed sixty percent of the bills while we lived together, but then she moved into a new apartment with her boyfriend, leaving me to pay the rent for the entire building.
• I should have moved out to a smaller apartment, maybe a single room or a flat. Why did I think I could deal with the bills all on my own?
• There was silence between us as Mr. Jordan didn’t seem to be moved by my pleading eyes; he sighed and turned his back to me, placing his arms funnily on his waist. But this was a bad time to laugh, so I held it in.
• This was no standard apartment, and Mr. Jordan wouldn’t show up so late at night, harassing me over the late payment of his rent fees.
• Slowly he turned back to face me, and I noticed this scary smugness on his face. I immediately guessed that he was up to no good. Who knows what he's going to say next; he wouldn’t serve me an eviction notice, would he?
• "Alright, it is okay. I understand that things are difficult in the country right now; everyone is having a hard time, so I am willing to make a compromise." He smiled.
• I was surprised to hear him say that. I didn’t know Mr. Jordan to be that kind and generous; maybe the Holy Spirit had touched his mind tonight.
• "Really? Thank you so much, sir; this means a lot to me. I promise I will pay you as soon as possible; you can count on me." I said it joyfully, pressing my palms together in appreciation.
• "You didn’t let me finish. It is a cold night, so how about you let me spend the night here with you today, and in return, I would count off the already existing three months due for payment?"
• I froze, trying to make sense of what he said. He could not mean what I thought he meant, could he?
• "I am sorry, Mr. Jordan; I don’t think I follow," I said with squinted eyes, slowly clenching my right fist.
• He smiled, exposing his tobacco-damaged teeth. "Come on, Anny." I almost puked when he called me that. "Don’t act like you don’t understand what I mean; you are not a baby anymore," he whispered and slowly rubbed my right arm with his finger tips.
• I immediately withdrew my arm and took a step back, holding back the urge to throw a curse at him. What was he thinking? Even if I were that sort of girl, why would I sleep with a man three times my age? This man was older than my father, and yet he was trying to get into my pants.
• "I am sorry, Mr. Jordan, but I can't do what you are asking for," I said calmly and bit my lips.
• He growled softly and then scoffed. Oh, I see, I am not good enough for you to whore with, but you seem to forget that you live in my house. If you want to sleep around with small boys, I don’t care. But you have just two days to comply with the house regulations, or I will have my lawyer throw you out." He swore furiously.
• Please, Mr. Jordan, I am really sorry."
• "And I am sorry too, Miss Annabel. You have two days to pay up or get evicted. Goodnight!" He said this and then turned around dramatically to leave.
• I stood there dumbfounded as I watched him leave. Why was this happening to me? Life hasn’t been fair to me at all. Perhaps I was cursed, and this curse had followed me all the way from Italy down here to the United States of America.
• As I bang the door hard in tears, I turn around and run down to the sitting room. I was confused, not knowing what to do. There is no way I could raise that money in 2 days, and even a lawsuit against Mr. Jordan would do me no good; I am going to end up on the streets anyway.
• Am I just unlucky or cursed? What is special about everyone else that makes them succeed? Nothing works for me, not even relationships. Obviously, I wasn’t good enough for Jimmy, and that is why he cheated on me without regret.
• I slumped down on the couch and let the tears trickle down my cheeks, ruining the make-up I had done earlier today. I felt like drowning myself to make it all end; my life was miserable, and nothing was going right. I have been fired from four jobs in the past year, many times because I wouldn’t open my legs to jerks.
• Was it a crime to be beautiful? The irony of it all is that the guy I did let into my pants and my heart was the one to betray me. Of what use is my dignity if I can't even feed or live? I can't take it anymore.
• I stared at my cell phone lying on the couch, and something crossed my mind. I think I know what to do; I need to do it; I have no other choice.
• I cleaned my tears, quickly grabbed the phone, and after thirty minutes of combing through my call logs, I found his number. Mr. Maxwell Blackwood, my last hope!
• I dialed his number and said a silent prayer, hoping he would take the call. He didn’t answer until the phone had almost stopped ringing.
• "You know it is not so nice to call a man at this time of the night, Princess." I heard that deep voice rumble from the other side of the phone, and my body vibrated in anxiety.
• "Mr. Blackwood?" I stuttered.
• "One and only," he replied. "How may I be of help to you, Miss Annabel?"
• I was surprised to know that he saved my number. I mean, he did recognize the caller, so he must have saved my number. It had been over two months since my encounter with him, which didn’t end so well that I don’t even know why I kept his number.
• "Can… Can we meet?" I muttered nervously, trying hard to hide that I had been crying.
• "Hmm..." he muttered, a tone of satisfaction in his voice. "You sound desperate; I like the sound of that. Yes, we can meet. Tomorrow, my office is at 9 a.m.; don’t be late."
• I rolled my eyes even though I knew he could not see me; he must be feeling proud of himself right now. Yes, I was desperate, or I would have never contacted him. His request might be absurd, but his offer was enticing as well.
• I haven’t gained anything from being a good girl the whole year; maybe it is time I drop my self-righteousness and be a bad girl. I am ready to do whatever it takes to survive.
• **