The Single Mom Who Toyed With Married Men Chapter 01

The Single Mom Who Toyed With Married Men Chapter 01

There was a single mom in our apartment building. She never raised her voice, and her eyes always looked like she’d been crying.

Something was always going wrong at her place. Leaky pipes, flickering lights, grocery bags she just couldn’t manage. So naturally, every married man in the building had turned into her personal handyman.

And if a wife so much as gave it the side-eye, her husband got defensive. “She’s a single mom raising a kid on her own. What’s wrong with you?” With that little routine, she’d already driven three wives out of their own homes.

Nathaniel Hayes and I just moved in three days ago. Tonight, she showed up at our door at eleven. A satin nightgown that looked far too elegant for a late-night emergency. All of it aimed straight at my husband.

“Mr. Hayes, there’s a huge cockroach in my apartment and I’m terrified. Could you come over and take care of it?”

Nathaniel didn’t say a word. Just looked at me. I got up from the couch, grabbed a can of bug spray, and walked to the door smiling. “A cockroach? Lucky for you. I love killing nasty little things that creep around in the dark.”

…

I pushed past Nathaniel and planted myself right in front of Chloe Bennett. The hallway motion light kicked on, and it lit up every inch of that silk nightgown.

Paper-thin fabric, plunging neckline. A breeze swept through the hallway, and she gave a little shiver, perfectly timed, before leaning weakly against the door frame.

“Oh, Mrs. Hayes. You’re still awake.” She smiled at me, but her eyes slid right past my shoulder to Nathaniel.

“Funny, I was about to fall asleep. Then someone knocked.” I gave the can a shake. The rattle echoed down the hallway. “Well, let’s go. You said there was a cockroach, right? Show me.”

That clearly wasn’t the response Chloe had been hoping for.

She stood there, her hands fidgeting in front of her.

“Oh, you don’t have to bother, Mrs. Hayes. Bugs like that are so gross. I’m just so terrified of them. Mr. Hayes could just come over and squash it real quick…”

“Oh, Nathaniel’s strong, sure. But he’s terrified of bugs. Gets so worked up around cockroaches that he’d probably stomp a hole through your floor.”

I marched down the hall, pulled her screen door open and walked right in. “Don’t worry. I’m not squeamish.”

Same floor plan as ours. That was where the similarities ended. Perfume hit me the second I stepped inside.

Lace lingerie tossed across the couch, two wine glasses sitting on the coffee table. Not exactly what you’d picture for a single mom with a five-year-old. More like a room prepared to entertain company.

I turned around. “So where’s this cockroach?” Chloe trailed in behind me, pointing toward the kitchen with a voice so small it barely carried. “It was under the fridge a minute ago, but I don’t know where it went.”

I walked straight to the fridge and pressed the nozzle down. A thick chemical cloud filled the corner in seconds. I kept spraying for a solid thirty seconds, until the whole kitchen reeked of it.

Chloe coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. “Mrs. Hayes, that’s way too much. My son is sleeping in the next room.”

She backed up two steps, nose wrinkling. For just a second the helpless act slipped. Annoyance flickered across her face.

“Better safe than sorry. Otherwise, it might crawl out again tonight, and you’ll have to go knocking on someone else’s door.” I set the can down hard on the counter and turned to face her.

Something shifted behind Chloe’s eyes. She took a breath and reset. The wounded look slid right back into place. “Mrs. Hayes, I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me. I really can’t handle these things on my own, and this late at night, there’s no one I can call…”

“Hire a handyman,” I said, cutting her off. “Call building management. Hell, dial 911 if it’s that bad.” My eyes dropped to the feathered high-heeled slippers on her feet. “But showing up at a married man’s door past eleven at night dressed like that, Ms. Bennett? That’s not a great look.”

“You…” I didn’t let her finish. I walked right past her toward the front door. Halfway there, I stopped. A pair of men’s leather shoes sat by the shoe rack. Size ten.

“Way too big,” I said without turning around. “Nathaniel wears a nine. If you’re going to set a trap for my husband, at least do your homework.”

The second I pulled her door shut, I heard it: the sharp crack of those heeled slippers stomping against the floor on the other side.

Back home, I found Nathaniel on the couch, scrolling through his tablet. He looked up when I walked in and handed me a glass of water. “All good?” he asked.

“Just the neighborhood homewrecker doing her thing.” I took a sip. “Watch yourself around here. Don’t give her an opening.”

Nathaniel scoffed and slid the tablet across to me. “Too late for that. She’s already started.” I glanced down. The building’s group chat was open on the screen. Chloe had posted something one minute ago.