March 17. St Patrick’s Day.

It’s the busiest day of the year for bars, and a day when bartenders - especially cute, young, female bartenders - make a lot of money in tips.

Now, I wouldn’t have known this, normally. I’m not cute. I’m not young. I’m not female. And I’m not a bartender.

But the tenant in the basement of my house is all four of those things. She graduated from university a couple of years ago with a degree in anthropology. Do you know what someone can do with a degree in anthropology? Well, she doesn’t know, either. That’s why she’s a bartender.

Anyway, on March 17, 2020, all the bars in the province were ordered closed because of the novel coronavirus pandemic. And that put my tenant out of work.

I didn’t think much of it, at first. I mean, I noticed that she wasn’t leaving the house anymore. Neither was I, for that matter. My office had closed, and we were all working at home. But I didn’t think of the fact that Amanda losing her job would impact me.

And so when she texted me, two weeks later, on March 31, and asked if she could come upstairs to my part of the house and talk something over, I honestly didn’t know what she wanted to talk about. I just texted back, “Sure,” and went to open the door at the top of the stairs.

She came up a couple of minutes later, and I followed her into the livingroom. Her family is Italian, and what she lacks in height, she makes up for in curves. That day, she was wearing a tank top and a skintight pair of yoga pants. And yeah, damn right I looked. Amanda has a great ass. I’d noticed that before, of course, but after being without any action since the lockdown started ... well, let’s just say my eyes and my cock noticed just how sweet those curves were.

It felt kind of odd having someone in the house, but then again, I only have the one furnace, so we’d been breathing the same air all along, which meant that anything she had, I had already been exposed to. I offered her a coffee, and she said sure, and when I came back with it we just sat there in silence, with her looking down at her mug.

Finally she looked up at me.

“I can’t pay the April rent,” she began. “I’m really sorry, Mike. But I’ve made nothing since the middle of March. No paycheque. No tips. I’ve applied for the emergency benefit from the government, but I haven’t seen any of that money yet. I don’t know what to do.”

“You can have some more time,” I said. “I’m not going to try to evict you over one late rent payment. How long do you think you need?”

She sighed.

“That’s the thing. My sister’s a public health nurse, and she says I’m not going back to work anytime soon. And when the government money comes, it’s not gonna be enough. I’ve gone over the figures so many times I’m going cross eyed, but I can’t see how to make it work. Between the car payment, and the student loan, and groceries - and now I have to fucking cook for myself, not just eat at work - and rent - I’m screwed. Like, totally.”

Now it was my turn to sigh. I have an ok job, and make a decent wage, but I can’t afford to carry the house on my own. That’s why I rented out the basement in the first place.

“Well, I’ll see what I can figure out. I’m still being paid, even though I’m not quite as productive working from home, but I need your rent payment to help cover the mortgage and utilities.”

A tear ran down her cheek. She brushed it away.

“Don’t cry, though. I’ll figure something out. And I won’t throw you out. I promise.”

She gave me a half smile.

“I’m really sorry. If it was just a case of looking for another job ... I’d be on it in a flash. But with everything shut down ... I just don’t see what I can do.”

“We’ll get through it, somehow. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Mike. You’re the best landlord in the world. Once the emergency money comes, I’ll give you what I can. I promise. And I’ll try to keep my part of the utilities under control if I can.”

She drained her coffee and stood up. There was one of those awkward moments where she looked like she wanted to hug me, but didn’t know if it was appropriate. I followed her to the stairs, and she said goodbye and went back down to her apartment.

My mind was swirling as I shut the door behind her. I had a lot to figure out. I had enough money in my chequing account that April wasn’t going to be a problem, especially if Amanda could give me even part of her rent. But May ... May was going to be another matter altogether. And as I went to sit down in my home office and do some work, I couldn’t keep another thought from entering my mind. Damn, Amanda had a fine ass. I almost wished that I was enough of a jerk to ask her if she’d be willing to give me a piece of it in exchange for some time to pay the rent.

I shook my head to drive that thought away. Yeah, I’d ogle her, but I wasn’t going to extort sex from her. Though I was damn sure that those pouty lips would feel damn good around my cock.

I spent the rest of the day being as productive as I could, microwaved a frozen lasagne for supper, watched some mindless tv, drank a beer, and went to bed. I was still feeling a bit horny from thinking about Amanda, and I debated looking up my favourite story site and jacking off, but it seemed like a lot of work, so I just rolled over and went to sleep.

I was awakened, an hour or two later, by the sound of someone in my bedroom. I sat up, quickly.

“I’m sorry. I was hoping I could come in without waking you.”

“Amanda? Is that you? What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?”

“You left the door at the top of the stairs unlocked. And I’m freezing. Can I sleep with you?”

I reached over and flipped on the lamp. She was in a sleepshirt that stretched almost to her knees and a pair of slippers, and she was shivering.

“What? Why is it freezing downstairs?”