Novel & Cerita Mami Rent A Gf

Rafael gathered the dirty clothes of his siblings and put them in the laundry basket inside the walk-in closet. She tucked them into bed and kissed them. "Mama, are we going to stay with her longer?" It seemed that they were all nice. "Unlike Mr. Barney?" Raiden asked. "I don’t know, sweetheart; let me meet the landlord first," she replied. "I hope he’s not like Mr. Barney," he said. He was referring to their landlord, who was huge, particularly in his belly, and always grumpy.

She didn’t even have the money for her next house rent. ‘’Damn it.’’ Feeling deflated, she turned and walked out of the station. ‘’Sammy, please!’’ Matt pleaded, blocking the girl’s attempt to maneuver him. ‘’He’s willing to pay.’’ ‘’I run a cafe, you idiot. Not a whore club.’’ Sam reached out to grab a glass, threatening him with it if she didn’t step aside. Matt gulped, slightly moving so she would pass. She moved to the window display. He coughed lightly as he scratched his head, watching her. ‘’Fine, do you have someone to recommend then?’’

This city had a gentrification problem, which had skyrocketed just in the past year. In the year when I was oblivious to mortal issues because of my rich ex-fiance. I should never have gotten used to that comfort. Or dreamed of more than I could earn with my own hands. My mother was right: depend on a man, and your life would depend on something volatile and unstable. "How many months' advance do you need?" I asked, resigned to my fate. "Three months' deposit, and six months' rent in advance. Oh, and the curfew is 7 PM. The doors are double-locked after that."

“Africa… I don't care what country or city, just find me whatever is leaving immediately.” “Okay. Okay… Hold on, I'm on it.” She took a piece of paper and a pen, and began to write out her details while Marco typed on the other side. “I have a private charter leaving Fiumicino in less than an hour,” Marco finally announced. “My guy owes me a favor, so you'll be having a seat… Terminal C, I'll text you the remaining details.” “You’re a lifesaver Marco, I love you so much,” she exclaimed, with tears of joy running down her face.

“Daddy, I wish you lived in our neighborhood too.” Felix gave a soft laugh. “You want Daddy to live near you?” “Yes.” Mia let out a sigh like a little adult. Just then, she heard Miranda calling her. “Daddy, Mommy is calling me. Bye.” “Bye.” Felix ended the call and leaned back on the sofa, thinking for a moment. Then he dialed his assistant. “Gavin, check the available listings in Cloudcrest Residence for me.”

"God, here's another poser!" My roommate, Fiona Sharpe, grinned as she shoved her phone at us. Its screen showed a student chat group where a bold message stood out. It read, "Urgently looking for a female date—must be attractive—to accompany me to a banquet. You'll receive ten grand upfront as payment."

"Thank you for your time." My phone buzzed yet again, the third time, and I debated just ignoring it. I answered on the second ring. “Please, universe, let this one be good news,” I whispered. "Ms. Gonzales, this is Brenda from City Living Rentals," a sharp, efficient voice said. "We have a few properties that might interest you. You mentioned a two-bedroom?" "Yes, that's right," I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "But I'm looking for something... within a budget."

discount, putting the rent just within my budget. The owner, a girl named Maeve, seemed to be overseas. We could only talk over a staticky phone line. She explained it was a two-bedroom, which meant sharing. I didn’t care. I needed out of that hotel, fast. “A roommate? I’m fine with that. Is it you I’d be sharing with?” Maeve’s voice cut in and out through the static. “...owner… living there? Yes… If that’s… okay… you should sign the lease soon.”

Mia had been renting the small apartment above Mr. Victor Lang’s garage for four months. Victor was 45, divorced, tall and powerfully built from years of working construction before he became a landlord. He had rough hands, a deep voice, salt-and-pepper stubble, and a quiet intensity that always made Mia’s stomach flutter when she ran into him. Her rent was due tomorrow, and she was short by $300. She knocked on his front door wearing a tiny cropped tank top that barely contained her full breasts and tiny shorts that rode up her ass. No bra. She knew exactly what she was doing.