ᴀᴘʜʀᴏᴅɪᴛᴇ // $ᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇʙᴏʏ$

Chapter Seven

APHRODITE

It was Sunday afternoon, my only free day to spend time in my apartment while I still had it.

I dressed in a simple dark green dress, pairing it with a light black sweater and matching Doc Martens. After painting my lips a dark red color and grabbing my things, I locked up my apartment to go meet my friend Brynn in the park down the street. I almost made it out to the bitter wind when a small voice behind me had me turning.

Mrs. Dubois, an eighty-six year old widow and my neighbor a couple doors down the hall from me stood outside her own entrance. Dressed in her usual morning housecoat and slippers, she lifted a bony hand to grab my attention. "Aphrodite, dear, do you know where my newspaper is?"

I gave her a small smile. I didn't know how many times I'd told the older woman that the reason why she never got her paper anymore was because she'd stop paying the bill. I didn't have the time this morning to explain to her yet again. Brynn was already waiting for me. "I'm not sure, Mrs. Dubois. Maybe the paper boy forgot again? You know how young kids are these days."

Mrs. Dubois shook her head in agreement. "Lazy, I tell you."

"I'll bring over a newspaper for you later."

The older lady smiled sweetly. "How sweet you are, dearie. Oh, and, Aphrodite, my nephew will be stopping by later to visit me. He's a lawyer and he's single. Would you like me to give him your phone number? I'm sure he'd love to take you out dancing."

I gave her a big toothy grin even as I cringed inside. "Oh, no thank you. But please tell him I said hello." And please stop trying to set me up with every single man you know, lady. "I have to go meet my friend now, Mrs. Dubois. Have a good day."

I smiled wide at her again and nodded before scurrying away before the older woman could auction me off to the next available man. And thought about how it was amazing what the senior community remembered, and what they didn't. Like forgetting you weren't paying for the newspaper you looked for each day, and remembering a neighbor's name.

◇◇◇

"You're working for those cousins?" My friend Brynn stared at me, taken aback.

"Yes." I said simply.

"For Aristos Petrou?" She questioned again.

"Yep, for Aristos Petrou." I shrugged and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my purse. I lit one up and looked around.

"How is he? People say he's a dangerous psychopath." Brynn said quietly, and I gave her a drag of my cigarette.

"I don't know, to be honest. I barely speak to him." I shrugged again. Even though I trusted my friend, I needed to be careful. Women would talk, they would talk a lot. Not every secret was always safe, and I knew that when it came to those dangerous cousins, I must think twice before I said too much. I never knew what kind of mood they might wake up with. One of them might meet a person, who knows a person, who said this or that- and you know the rest. It's so simple and easy, the spreading of words and information. Life was unpredictable and you must be careful if you want to survive.

"I have to go, I have some work to do. See you on Sunday? I have a free afternoon." I asked.

Brynn nodded with a smile. "Hey, don't you wanna finish this?" She asked, trying to give the cigarette back to me.

"Rather not." I smirked and left.

As I was walking down the street, a group of men turned to take a look at me, checking me out. I ignored them and walked faster.