Oz
After a week of sleeping on the couch at the station on my off-rotation nights, I feel it’s safe to go home. I’ve had no further contact from my neighbors. Thank God. Mattress has been giving me hell all week. Saying shit about everyone needing to lock up their wives and daughters. He said, "Pregnant, married or crazy—seventeen to eighty, it doesn't matter. Oz will hit it." He’s a riot but he’s my other best friend, and probably one of the only guys who can stand me. Besides, The Hammer told me it was time to take my sorry ass home. His words weren’t quite so colorful, but that was the gist of his speech and reprimand.
I case my building before crossing the street. I don’t see any movement from the Shafer’s window. I’m still on edge as I unlock my door. I just know that at any minute Jimmy is going to come out of that red door down the hall and lay into me. It wouldn’t be the first time a scorned or jealous lover has come after me. You’d think I’d learn to stop thinking with Godzilla.
When I flick on my light, I see an envelope on the kitchen counter with my name on it. I hope it’s not a death threat.
Dear OZ,
Thank you for, well, just thank you. Don’t worry about Jimmy, he won’t bother you. I won’t either. You know how to make a woman feel alive, don’t waste that because of me. One day you will make a woman very happy, so be good to her and appreciate the love she will give you. You won’t understand it just yet, but when the time comes, and you do settle down, never let your wife feel undesired.
Best wishes,
D
I scratch the top of my head, not sure what to make of her words. I fold the letter and go to stick it in the envelope when a few bills catch my eye. She paid me. I crumple the letter and count the bills. Five hundred bucks, not bad.
Candi comes out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. “Look what the cat finally dragged in. You home now?” She raises her brows at me, dying to give me hell.
The message indicator is blinking on the machine.
“You have some calls, lover boy.” Candi grins and ducks into her room laughing.
I have six missed calls. I kick my boots off and hit play before sinking into the cushions. I had my calls forwarded to our landline. Since I was crashing at the station, I knew they wouldn’t be calling me in.
“I’m trying to reach OZ. I set my kitchen on fire,” a buttery voice whispers. My eyes go big. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. “I’m a friend of Dottie’s. She said you could help me. You can text me at this number.” She fires off her number and I am stunned. How could she just hand my number out to her friends like I’m a damn gigolo?
I shake my head as two more similar messages play.
My finger hovers over the erase button as I think about getting paid to get laid.
“End of messages,” the machine announces before reciting the messages once more.
I take down the numbers and say screw it. Ash has made damn good money as an escort, I never would have imagined it could be so lucrative.
I think I just found my side job.
Candi peers around the edge of her doorway. “You so just took down those numbers, didn’t you?”
She knows me all too well.
I flash what would be my panty-melting grin at her with a shrug, knowing it doesn’t do a thing for her.
“What can I say? Ladies love Godzilla.” I wink and she rolls her eyes.
“You’re disgusting.” She laughs.
“Wanna grab beer and a pizza?”
“Sure, but your buying.” She ducks back in her room to get dressed.
“I can afford it now.” I chuckle.