Zimyra (St. Claire #10)

Chapter 1

The rain peltS my umbrella like it has beef with it. Like it’s testing the fabric that the thing is made of. These aren’t just your average drops. No, these are big, heavy raindrops, pouring down right after I pulled up at the office.

“Great. Just great.”

I tried to stay dry by waiting it out. I sat in the car for a few minutes, hoping the downpour would slack off, but when I saw that it wasn’t letting up, I opened my car door, opened the umbrella, and just went for it. Now, I’m sitting at my desk with wet pantyhose.

I walk to the bathroom as my shoes make a squishy sound – evidence of the flood I just endured. I relieve my feet of the shoes and peel the pantyhose down my legs. It’s then that I notice the drip coming from the ceiling.

Splat.

Splat.

Droop.

Splat.

When it rains hard, the ceiling in the leasing office leaks – well more specifically the ceiling in the bathroom that’s in the lobby of the leasing office leaks. I had forgotten all about it. Between rain cycles, it’s easy to forget because here in Columbia, we can go for a hot minute without getting rain and then all of a sudden, the sky erupts like it did today.

Splat .

Water splashes on my leg as I’m trying to dry off. This rain has got it out for me today. And it would be a Monday at that. But here’s the real kicker – the maintenance man and his two-man crew walked off the job last Friday, so for the time being, I must take matters into my own hands. In a closet, I find a bucket and place it beneath the drip. I have to get somebody over here to look at this leak along with a list of other maintenance issues that tenants have reported in their respective units.

But first things first…

Gloop.

I can’t be up in here listening to water being collected in a bucket, and I definitely cannot have future tenants seeing this nonsense. These are supposed to be upscale, luxury apartments – and they are, but nothing about an orange Home Depot bucket being used for water collection spells luxury. Absolutely nothing.

Irritated beyond belief, I walk back to my office, which is basically a massive desk centered in the lobby, and call my brother – the rough and rugged one – not the tamed and mild one.

He answers, “What up, girl?”

“Zan, you would not believe the morning I’ve had.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened, or do you want me to guess?”

“Ugh…attitude. Why do I keep forgetting how crabby you are in the mornings? I should’ve called Zavier.”

“Myra, just talk. Please. What is it?”

“Okay—thought you’d never ask. So, I leave my apartment in a hurry, hoping to make it to work before the rain starts, right? When I pull into the parking lot, the sky opens up, and— boom !—I’m stuck in a monsoon.”

Zander’s sigh irks me. He’s always so laid back – so easy-breezy that nothing disturbs him. Well, usually. I guess it’s his way of keeping his sanity. Being a fireman isn’t for the weak. As a first responder, he sees things he can’t unsee. When he’s not at work, he’s not at work. He’s nonchalant, mellow and humorous – at least he thinks he’s funny. That mess works on Alyssa – not me. I need my big brother to listen to my venting and ranting because I can’t burden my best friend, Capri, with all my worries. Poor thing hears enough from me.

He says, “Myra, you called me on my day off to complain about the rain?”

“You haven’t heard it all yet. So, I get into the building and my legs are wet. I go to the bathroom, attempting to dry my shoes with paper towels and wipe my legs and there’s water leaking from the freakin’ ceiling.”

“You’re the property manager, babygirl. Get maintenance to take care of that.”

“I would if the maintenance team didn’t quit last week. All three of them bounced—left me high and dry.”

“What brought that on?”

“I don’t know. They were being compensated very well. I had a good working relationship with them. They just up and quit with no explanation, no resignation letter, text, email or nothing.”

“Dang.”

“ Dang is right!”

“Okay, so how can I help, sis? I fight fires. I know nothing about fixing a leaky roof. Do you want me to bring a bucket over there or something?”

“You get on my nerves.”

He laughs and says, “That’s about all I can offer.”

“I already have a bucket.”

“Then you’re good for now. That’ll buy you some time to get somebody out there—a professional—not me.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Anytime.”

The doorbell chimes, alerting me that someone has entered the building. It’s too early for human interaction. I haven’t had my first sip of coffee, my shoes are wet, and my whole body feels clammy. Yet, I know I have to put myself in work mode – especially when I glance up to see the early bird who decided to brave the rain and force me to have an early morning start. It’s a man – a tall, fine one folding a large, black umbrella as he walks to my desk.

I say, “Uh, Zander, I’ma have to call you back.”

“Ah’ight. Later.”

I give my first potential tenant of the day my full attention – at least I think that’s who he is.

I stand up from my desk and say, “Good morning,” hoping it’s a better morning for him than it has been for me so far.

“Good morning.”

His voice is deep, and dare I say full-bodied – the kind that summons your attention. I got all of that from his simple greeting. Now that he’s closer, I can appreciate how tall he really is. And he was fine from afar. Up close and personal, he’s completely gorgeous. The hazel orbs in his face are beaming upon me something fierce. He’s well put together. It’s a rarity to see a man so strikingly handsome around these parts. Well, my brothers are, but I would never tell them that.

Struggling to maintain my professionalism, I blink out of my trance with him and say, “Are you interested in viewing a unit today?”

After he’s finished looking around the lobby, even up at the skylights, he says, “Sure. Why not?” as if that wasn’t his initial intent. If he’s not here to look at an apartment, why is he here?

“Are you looking for a studio, one bedroom, two bedroom…?”

He slides his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. “Do the apartments have skylights like these?” he asks, looking up at the ceiling.

“Only the ones on the top floors, of course.”

He smirks. “Right.”

“Those are a little higher than the first and second levels. The model unit is one of those skylight units if you would like a tour.”

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

“Okay. Would you like some coffee?”

“It’s one of those mornings. I would love some coffee.”

“I’m with you on that.”

I walk over to the coffee station and prepare a cup for him. I say, “How do you take it?”

“Black is fine.”

I slide a brown sleeve onto the paper cup, and then hand it to him.

“Thank you,” he says, taking a sip right away.

“You’re welcome. Um…to get started on viewing the unit, all I need is your driver’s license.”

He reaches into his right back pocket and asks, “Why do you need my license?”

“It’s company policy. We have to verify that you are who you say you are.”

“But you didn’t even ask me who I was yet?”

“No, I didn’t. Care to enlighten me?” I ask, looking up at him.

“I’m Axel Jennings,” he says as he hands me his license.

I take it and say, “Thanks.”

He hints at a smile as he looks down at my feet.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you normally walk around barefoot?”

“Uh…no,” I say, feeling slightly embarrassed. In full work mode, I’d completely forgotten I didn’t have on shoes. “I apologize. This is so unprofessional, but in my defense, there’s a story behind this.”

I make a copy of his driver’s license, then walk over to my desk, placing his identification in the top drawer. I lock it up and reach for my shoes.

“What’s the story?”

“You don’t want to hear the story.”

“I do. Tell me.”

I stuff my toes into the nude heels that haven’t fully dried and say, “I got caught in the rain. Wet feet in heels is not a good mix.”

“I’d say that was the case with all shoes.”

“Exactly. See…you understand where I’m coming from.” I grab the facility keys and ask, “Is it still raining out there?”

“It was down to a drizzle when I came in.”

“Of course it would be. When I got here, I saw Noah’s Ark float by.”

He grins, and he’s gorgeous! His white smile will live in my memory until the end of time. Why do I see the finest men when I’m not looking or interested? It’s almost not fair. While he is cute or whatever, I’m still holding fast to my life goals. A relationship isn’t on the list yet.

“The unit I’ll be showing you is in the next building, so we can walk, but bring your umbrella just in case.”

“Sure. I would hate for your toes to get wet again.”

I grin as we walk to the door. We step out and I lock it behind me since I’m the only person who works in the lobby. I have to keep it secure while I’m doing tours.

“Is it okay if I take the coffee?” he asks.

“Yes, as long as you don’t spill it.”

“I don’t plan to.”

I say, “Nobody plans to spill coffee.”

“Exactly.”

Axel falls into stride beside me like he’s known me for years. I tell myself to be professional yet again because he’s as fine as fine can get, but what do I care? I’m not in the market for a boyfriend. I’m just doing me, building my empire, and enjoying my family. My twin brothers – Zander and Zavier are both married and happy. I’m friends with their wives, Alyssa and Nykendy. Marriage, love, dating – none of that is on the horizon for me. I’ve never entertained the thought of getting married in my twenties. The twenties are for self-discovery and alignment, preparing for the thirties. The thirties is when life really happens.

Regardless of my stance, this man’s cologne has me mesmerized. Everything about him does. His eyes had me the moment he walked into the lobby, but his chestnut-brown skin deserves an honorable mention. It’s smooth and moisturized with just enough hair on them to make you want to reach out and touch a brother. His stature, smile, white teeth and close-cut fade and beard – somebody hand me a fan because it just got ten degrees warmer out here. Axel Jennings is tall, tempting and hydrated with his dark-wash Levi’s, black T-shirt and black shoes.

My goodness.

I clear my throat and tell myself to shake out of this infatuation with a complete stranger and say, “This is the building. And, you should know that all of our buildings are locked twenty-four-seven for extra security, so you will have to use a key to get inside. The residents love the extra security.”

I unlock the door and open it for him so he can proceed inside like I do all of my new potential tenants, but he says, “No, after you.”

“It’s okay. I’m the representative for Atlantic Properties. I must be professional and hold the door open for you to welcome you to our facilities. It’s my job.”

He looks highly uncomfortable doing so, but he proceeds inside and then asks, “Are there elevators?”

“Yes, there are elevators in all of our buildings. That’s something that sets us apart from other complexes in the area. You’d be hard-pressed to find one with elevators, and that’s something tenants usually complain about. Even the apartment complex where I live doesn’t have an elevator, but it’s cool because it’s only two levels. It’s just not all that convenient when I need to buy groceries and things.”

“You’re on the second floor?”

“Yep. My brothers insisted I get a second-floor unit for extra security.”

I press the button for the elevator and it opens almost immediately. I gesture for him to go ahead of me. He hesitates but proceeds to go.

I step on behind him and push the button for the third floor. So this short ride isn’t so awkward with us being in a confined space, I ask, “So, are you new to the area?”

“I am.”

“From up North?”

“Yes. How’d you know?”

“The accent.”

He grins. “Sometimes I forget I have one.”

“Yeah, I can detect the city ness . Is that a word?”

“Don’t think so, but I get it.”

“Before you even mention it, I know I have an accent. I hear it from people all the time, especially the out-of-towners, or when I’m on the phone handling business. People always ask me where I’m from.”

“You’re originally from South Carolina?”

“Yep. Born and raised right here in Columbia.”

“Nice. I heard y’all put a lot of sugar in your tea.”

I chuckle and say, “There’s no other way to have it.”

I smile, thinking that this has to be the longest elevator ride in history. Is this thing moving that slow, or is it just me?

“Where are you from?” I ask him.

“Bridgeport.”

“Connecticut?”

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, that’s cool. The parent company of Atlantic Properties is headquartered in Stamford.”

He grins as the elevator doors open.

We step off and I ask, “Why are you grinning? I must know.”

“I’m amazed at how dedicated you are to your job. You know where the company’s headquarters are located.”

“I mean, I have to be dedicated, right? I do want to keep the job. I have bills to pay. Plus, they have their corporate address stamped all over the lease documents, so there’s that.”

“Ah…makes sense.”

I unlock the door to unit 332-B and allow Axel to pass ahead of me. He steps inside and says, “Wow. This is amazing.”

“Yeah, they have good units here.”

“I mean the décor. Who staged this?”

“I did.”

“Of course you did.”

“What does that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t take offense—I meant it as a compliment. I should’ve known you did it seeing how dedicated you are to the job.”

He looks up at the skylights.

I proceed to say, “So, as you can see, it’s an open-concept style that everybody wants these days. You can sit in the living room and watch TV while your girlfriend is in the kitchen cooking chicken wings.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“How so? I know you like chicken wings.”

“I do, but there’s no girlfriend.”

No girlfriend—yeah, okay. Like I’m supposed to believe that. Ain’t no man this fine walking the earth without somebody after him.

I say, “Okay, so you can be reclined on the sofa while you have dinner cooking in the crockpot.”

“In the what?”

“Oh, jeez. Nevermind.” I shake my head. Why would men know anything about a crockpot? He probably survives off DoorDash, Uber Eats, and five-dollar bags like the majority of America.

“The kitchen has all stainless steel appliances,” I continued.

“Is there a washer and dryer?”

“Yes. That’s another feature. This complex does not have one of those inconvenient washrooms. I hate those things. Your washer and dryer are right here in your own place.”