LITMIR.BIZ

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would bring something from the truck inside, but for the most part he was directing the two other guys. Once all the boxes for the bedroom were inside, the two guys got to work putting the bed, nightstands, and dresser together. Meanwhile, Dior’s dream man looked around in the living room.

      “This is a nice place. How long have you been living here?” he asked, his deep voice sending shock waves through Dior’s body.

      “Thanks. Just a week,” she answered. “Can I get you or your guys anything to drink?”

      “No. We’re fine, thanks.”

      “Speak for yourself!” one of the other guys yelled from the bedroom.

      Dior and the guy who appeared to be the boss chuckled and then Dior asked the worker, “What would you like? I have water and iced tea and a couple sodas.”

      “A soda is fine,” he shouted out. “Thank you.”

      Dior took a soda out of her refrigerator and walked it into the bedroom to the guy. The bed and nightstands were already together and they were working on the dresser. Dior was surprised to see how fast they had worked and she went back into the living room to tell their boss how impressed she was.

      “They’re getting it done so fast,” she said. “I wish I had cash on hand to tip them.”

      The boss guy flagged her playfully and said, “Oh, that’s all right. These guys get paid to do this.”

      “Yeah, and what do you get paid to do?” the same guy who asked for the soda shouted out. “Stand around and talk to the customers?”

      “Exactly. It’s my job to satisfy the customer and your job to satisfy me,” he retaliated. Then he turned to Dior and explained, “That’s my little brother. He’s always talkin’ trash.”

      Dior chuckled again and then asked flirtatiously, “What size shoe do you wear?”

      “Thirteen,” he said, licking his lips.

      Dior blushed as they stared at each other. She figured that she wasn’t doing a good job keeping her feelings for him a secret. He clearly knew that she found him attractive and it was obvious he knew how to handle it. He flirted right back.

      “All right, the bedroom is done,” one of the guys said as he entered the living room.

      The other guy followed, drinking from the soda can.

      “We’re going to get the living room stuff now, okay?” he said to Dior.

      “Okay,” she said, rushing into her room to see the end result.

      “It looks nice,” she thought aloud, looking around her room. She was happy at her choice in furniture and with the deliverymen’s work ethic.

      She went over to the bed and sat down on the pillow-top mattress. She bounced up and down on it, testing the firmness.

      “It feels good, doesn’t it?” the boss asked as he appeared in the bedroom.

      “Yes, it does,” she said with dreamy eyes. Then she toned down her desperation and got up off the bed. She walked into the living room and the boss followed.

      “Listen,” the boss began, “what are you doing tomorrow night?”

      Dior paused and turned around to face him. “Nothing,” she responded, grinning.

      “Well, I’m free, and I would love to show you around. You are new here, right?”

      “Yes, as a matter of fact I am,” Dior said. “You know I would love that. Now, I guess, is a great time for you to tell me your name.”

      The boss extended his hand and in gentleman form, he said, “I’m Chris.”

      Dior placed her hand in his and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chris. And from now on, just call me Dior.”

      “Dior, huh?” he said. “Is that short for high maintenance?” He chuckled.

      “It all depends,” Dior said, chuckling along with him.

      Dior and Chris exchanged numbers just as the other two guys reentered her home. They had smirks on their faces as they knew what was going on. They quickly unwrapped all the furniture and put it in its place. Then the boss handed them a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket.

      “This is a tip from Ms. Emerson,” he said, winking back at Dior.

      The two guys took the money and thanked Dior. She smiled at Chris and told them no problem. They gathered their belongings, Dior signed off on the delivery, and the three men left.

      “I’ll call you,” Chris said with his lips only.

      Dior nodded as she stood at her door watching the three of them get back in their truck. Just as she turned to walk back into her apartment, she heard one of the guys say, “You really satisfy the customers, don’t you?”

      She stood outside, watching the furniture delivery truck drive down the street, then turned to walk back into her apartment when suddenly someone grabbed her by the arm.

      “Hi, lovely lady. Remember me?”

      If I didn’t remember your face I’d remember those yellow teeth, and that horrid breath, Dior thought. Out loud she said, “Sure, I remember you. Jerome, right?”

      “Right. Your knight in shining armor. You gonna give me your number?”

      “I thought we agreed that I’d pay you back in two weeks,” Dior said desperately. How the hell could she let her spending habits put her in a situation like this? Of all people, she sure didn’t want to be in Jerome’s debt.

      “Yeah, but I decided I’d rather have your number so we can get to know each other better. I know you got a phone by now. If you don’t, just give me your cell number.”

      “Look, I’d much prefer to—”

      “Jerome, youse one trifling bastard!” Margie called out her window. “Leave that girl alone. Dior, don’t give him nothing. I done paid him that money for you already and he knows it.”

      Dior looked from Margie to Jerome. “You did?”

      “Yeah. He came around here the other day crying about that was part of the money his mother gave him to go pay the electric bill, and I like his mother and didn’t want her in the dark. Just add the twenty dollars to your rent, baby.”

      Dior snatched her arm away from Jerome and glared at him. “It was only fifteen dollars.”

      Jerome’s eyes darted from side to side. “Well, you know. Interest.”

      “Yeah, I got your interest right here,” Margie shouted as she waved a baseball bat in the window with one hand while flicking the ash from her cigarette out the window with the other. “Now get your trifling ass down the street.”

      “Man, forget you,” Jerome said as he backed away. “I was just trying to be nice because you’re new in the neighborhood and I thought you might need a friend.”

      “Hmph. With friends like you I certainly wouldn’t need any enemies,” Dior said angrily. “Miss Margie,” she said, turning to the woman in the window, “I’m sorry. I’ll give you the twenty back in the rent check like you said.”

      “Okay, dear. And don’t worry about Jerome. He’s stupid but he’s harmless. Just don’t give him any more of your time and he’ll soon be leaving you alone. And just put him in his place one good time and you won’t have any problems. That girl in unit three chewed him out so bad you can bet he won’t ever say another word to her again. You just need to get a little more spunk in you. Not that’s it none of my business. Not my business at all.”

      That fool has some nerve, Dior thought when she walked back into the house. Angry as she was, though, she couldn’t stay mad long as she looked at her new furniture. Her new apartment was looking more and more like home.

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