Page 28 of Strictly Against Policy

The leasing manager seemed more apprehensive than me when I looked around my top-pick apartment. I didn’t give a single damn about the layout of the one-room townhouse I was looking at. It had a spacious living room and an equally spacious bedroom? Great. It came with slightly older appliances? Sure. In-unit washer and dryer? A plus. This was a gated community with a security booth at the front? Yes.

“I love it,” I announced, turning to my new possible leasing manager after the tour.

The woman with jet-black hair and warm light-brown eyes straightened her spine. The worried purse on her lips morphed into a quick smile. “Great! You’ll love our community here. It’s quiet and family-friendly,” she said, guiding me out. “Many of our residents love to use the communal park and pool and walk or run along the trails surrounding the community. We often host various events at our community center here as well, which will give you an opportunity to meet your neighbors!”

The manager went on to discuss all the other selling points of living in this upscale gated community. Most of them were just extra perks I didn’t care about. Once we got to the office and the leasing manager started to look at the application I’d already submitted, her frown at my short leases was more than telling. It was raising alarm bells.

“I just want to mention that the reason why I’m terminating my current lease is because I’m being stalked and harassed,” I croaked.

The pain of admitting it aloud made me pause for a second. I hesitated to continue as she looked directly at me. Tears almost budded at the corner of my eyes. This stranger had more empathy in her gaze than my own sister had ever shown me.

“That’s why I need to live in a place like this. I know I’m not an ideal candidate, considering my recent short-term leases. But, if it works out here, I’d love to live somewhere where I’ll feel safe for a long time.”

She nodded slowly. “Of course. Ed, our security manager, is the best. He and the rest of our security staff here are dedicated to ensuring everyone’s protection and safety.”

I smiled genuinely for the first time in days. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t until I walked out of that office late in the afternoon, with my newly secured lease in hand, that I felt relief. I got a new apartment, and I was going to move.

As I drove to work Monday morning, I made a mental note of all the things I needed for another move. Get boxes for my things, and most of all, movers to help with all my belongings.

Jonathan was pouring himself a cup of freshly brewed coffee as I walked in. I arched a brow at him.

“Why are you here so early?” I asked.

Since the incident with Neng in the parking lot, Jonathan switched my schedule. Now, I was the opening pharmacist while he became the closing one. This didn’t equate to him coming any later, though. He had been coming in early each day since the switch. Whether it was to ensure I was doing my job under his careful scrutiny or to catch me alone, I wasn’t sure.

He shrugged, not answering me. His exhausted eyes glanced at me.

“Dr. Lo, you’ve mentioned you want to help me with my brother. I know exactly how you can do that,” I started.

He cocked a brow in my direction, silently urging me to continue. He watched me from the top of his mug as he drank his coffee with a thick, wet gulp.

“I need help moving,” I stated. “Saturday, 7:00 a.m. Give me your number, and I’ll text you the details.”

If he insisted on helping me, then I’d gladly make him work for me as my mover. I could hire a moving company, true. But why pay when the possibility of free labor was right in front of me?

Jonathan looked at me, stunned, wide-eyed, and lips parted. A heartbeat passed before his lips pulled into an arrogant smirk.

“Saturday at seven in the morning? You might as well just say, ‘Good fucking morning’ instead, Dr. Lee,” he chuckled.

“Are you helping me or not?”

If he couldn’t, I’d hire a moving company. It’d cost a pretty penny since I was moving to the other side of town, somewhere a little closer to here. I didn’t mind, but free labor was still free labor.

Jonathan’s smile grew even wider, more predatory. “I’d prefer it if you asked me politely.”

“Excuse me?”

He nodded slowly. “Say please and thank you. Maybe I’ll consider then.”

My eye twitched at the deep, throaty laugh he let out. “Thank you.”

“One down. One more to go.”

Through gritted teeth, I muttered, “Please.”

Jonathan tilted his head to the side, enjoying every second of this far more than I had anticipated.