My Female Manager Roommate

Brian's Choice

Ring... ring...

The jarring， urgent ringtone jolted me from deep sleep. Bleary-eyed and muddled， I fumbled in the dark for the phone， hitting answer without even glancing at the screen.

“Brian， are you renting this place or not? If you are， pay the remaining six months' rent today. If not， get your stuff out today. This is the deadline. If you don't comply， I’m changing the locks tomorrow and tossing everything you own onto the street!”

Before I could get a word in， he slammed the phone down in a fury.

That domineering man was my landlord. He had been hounding me to move out for days， and every time， I had fobbed him off with excuses about business trips.

At three thousand dollars a month， the apartment was practically a steal in New York City. Three bedrooms， simple renovation... a place like that is hard to find.

To be honest， it wasn't that I didn't want to move. After living there for two years， I had grown attached to it. The mere thought of packing my bags filled me with reluctance.

Just then， the woman nestled in my arms stirred. She pouted.“Honey， who was that? So early... disturbing our peace. So annoying.”

I patted her gently—this beautiful， enchanting woman—and replied，“My landlord. He keeps pressing me for rent. Money's been a bit tight lately， so I've been stalling him. Today， he insisted I move out.”

At the word“move”，she sat up， her eyes lighting up.“Really? I've always wanted you to move in with me. Look at this mansion... living here all alone is too lonely. You should move over. And quit that driver's job. You work yourself to the bone; it breaks my heart to see it.” Her hand began to wander lightly over my body.

I smiled.“Catherine， thank you for the offer. But I like where I am now. I've lived there for two years; I have a lot of memories. It holds my youth.”

She crawled to the headboard， opened the drawer， and pulled out thick stacks of cash.“Don't play the noble ascetic. Here's fifty thousand dollars. Take it and pay the rent. Then， when I miss you， I can just come see you—no more running to hotels. It’s so awkward if we run into someone we know.” She tossed the money in front of me.

Looking at the crisp hundred-dollar bills， I couldn't deny it was tempting. But accept it? Then I’d be nothing more than a kept toy boy. I clung to that last shred of dignity， refusing to sink to that level.

I looked at her.“Catherine， the money is certainly tempting. But I want to stand on my own feet. But thank you， anyway.”

She stroked my cheek.“Last night was amazing. You were incredible. Take the money， buy some supplements. Haha.” She laughed as she walked toward the bathroom.

Catherine was forty-two， but still radiated charm. She was tall and slim， weighing just over ninety pounds， and didn't look her age at all. We had met in a bar. She had been divorced for five years; her ex-husband was a Boston businessman who moved his company to Mexico due to rising costs. She stayed in New York， owning multiple properties， a vast fortune， and a daughter. One rainy night， we bumped into each other again. After that， everything fell into place naturally.

It wasn't her wealth or beauty I was after; being with her gave me a sense of peace， like coming home. Perhaps mature people just understand each other better.

After dressing up meticulously， she set off for her daughter's private school—she visited her daughter on the 15th of every month.

I was getting ready for work too. She wrapped her arms around me， reluctant to let go.“Take the money. Come back early tonight.”

I touched her face.“I won't take the money. I'll try to come back early， but tonight I might have to drive the Director to a banquet.”

“Drive safe. Remember to miss me.” She kissed me and left.

I worked at a trading and processing company， responsible for chauffeuring clients and executives. The younger management usually drove themselves; I was mostly called for evening events. Drivers know the rule: eyes forward， ears deaf， mouth shut. Over two years， I had heard plenty of gossip. My ability to keep my mouth shut made me popular with the bosses.

Today， a row of Audis was parked in the lot. I checked the schedule; nothing major—it looked like I could get off early.

I drove an Audi A6L， mainly assigned to our Director， Olivia. She was in her forties， stylish and elegant—though not as young as Catherine.

The fleet manager， Peter， walked over.“Brian， today you're driving the Director to Long Island.”

“Wait， isn't the banquet tonight?”

He smiled.“The banquet is in Long Island. And she specifically asked for you. The other drivers? Too old-fashioned. You know why.” He winked.

“Honestly—looks-wise， I'm top-tier here. Hahaha.”

Just then， Peter leaned in close， lowering his voice.“The Director hasn't been in a good mood lately. Don't know who pissed her off， but she’s been snapping at everyone for two days. Watch yourself. Go get the car washed this morning—spotless. And no smoking in the car. That was emphasized heavily at the last meeting. Hear me?”

I glanced at him.“Yeah， yeah， got it. If she's that unhappy， did you ask her if she's on her period? Hahaha.”

Peter nearly jumped out of his skin， quickly turning around to check if anyone was eavesdropping， and then leaned in close. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? Keep your voice down. If you've got nothing important， just scram." She must be going through early menopause， I thought to myself.

Honestly， there were no real perks to being a driver these days. Gas， car washes， maintenance—all handled at company-appointed shops. The only“benefit” we could scrape up was a few bottles of water during servicing. It was nothing compared to the past， when a simple repair could net you a few hundred or even a thousand bucks. Now， that door was completely shut.