is nicer?”
Sighing, Tia answered, “Both sides of town have good and bad areas. It depends on what you want.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got a lot of options.”
Frowning, Chris said, “I don’t understand. I want to live in a place that is quiet and safe.”
“That’s important. Your apartment is where you’ll be spending most of your free time. Do you want to be near a mall? Go to the movies? What about a gym? Are you a person who likes to cook or eat out a lot? All of those things matter when you’re deciding where you want to live.”
He leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. “This is more difficult than I imagined.”
“It’s time to explore,” Tia suggested. “You need to decide on a city and then check out the apartments in that area.”
Slowly nodding, he answered, “That makes sense. Will you come with me?”
“Sure. How about Saturday around ten?” Darnell is not going to be happy about this, Tia thought, envisioning his rage when she told him about this assignment.
“Sounds good.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at the hotel entrance.”
Chris took her hand and squeezed it. Physical awareness sizzled between them. An electrical current zinged its way down to her toes. “I appreciate you so much. Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome.” Tia quickly put some distance between them as she rose from the chair and dragged it back to its place on the opposite side of the desk.
For most of the week, Tia and Chris spent their free time debating the merits of living on the east or west side of town. After many explanations, Tia finally convinced Chris to make the east side of town his first search location. Her rationale: going east would make it easier for him to get back and forth to work. Plus, she assured him that if he didn’t find the type of apartment he wanted, they could continue their search on the west side.
On Saturday morning, Tia and Chris stood in front of a sprawling, two-story, brown brick apartment building that sat on a well-manicured lawn. Red, violet, pink, and white flowers sat beneath freshly trimmed shrubs. White shutters decorated the exterior of the windows at the front of the building.
Chris glanced at the ad in his hands. “‘Two-bedroom apartment located in the heart of Grosse Pointe Farms; easy access to downtown Detroit; safe, quiet neighborhood; park within walking distance and secured parking.’”
Impressed by what she saw, Tia turned to Chris. “What do you think?”
Nodding, he pressed his lips together for a moment and then answered, “I like the outside.”
“Me too.” She nudged her companion. “Come on. Let’s take a look at the inside.”
Together they strolled up the curved walkway, pushed open a wooden door with an etched figure in the center of its frosted glass pane, and entered the foyer. Brown tile covered the floor, which contrasted with the tan and cream tiles decorating the walls. Metal mailboxes with apartment numbers and buzzers were secured into the wall that lined the tiny room. Without delay, Tia located and then rang the manager’s apartment.
Minutes later, the door swung open and a plump, middle-aged woman in a floral house-dress and flip-flops greeted them. Her sharp, assessing eyes latched on to Chris, widening a fraction as she did a slow perusal downward. With an approving nod, she grinned back at him, ignoring Tia. She could tell the woman liked what she saw.
“You are?” she asked him, regaining her professional posture.
“Chris Jensen.” He captured her hand between both of his.
Flustered, the woman blushed and giggled. “I’m Mrs. DiAngelo, the landlady and manager.”
Trying not to laugh, Tia turned aside. It didn’t matter what age or race of woman, Chris had a way of charming the ladies.
“Pleasure,” Chris added, dropping her hand. “We’re here about the apartment.”
“Oh, yes. It’s on the second floor.” The woman opened the door wider and waved Chris into the apartment building. “Come, come. I’ve got the keys with me.”
Tia slipped through the door before Chris. For the first time, Mrs. DiAngelo noticed Tia. The older woman’s eyes narrowed. She glanced at Chris.
“This is Ms. Edwards.”
Mrs. DiAngelo nodded toward the younger woman. The warmth she exhibited toward Chris quickly shifted to cool wariness. Tia got the same once-over that Chris had received. It was instantly clear that she fell short of expectations. She smiled sweetly and trailed after Chris and the manager/landlady.
They climbed a series of stairs to the second floor. All the while, Mrs. DiAngelo chatted amicably with Chris while excluding Tia, who felt fine with this turn of events because it gave her a chance to take a better look at the building as they ascended the stairs.
The building was quiet, and every floor looked clean and well kept. As they headed down the hallway, the rubber soles of Mrs. DiAngelo’s flip-flops slapped against the polished wood surface. She halted at an apartment door marked 201. Extracting a ring of keys from her pocket, she quickly found the one she wanted and turned the key in the lock.
“This is one of my favorite apartments. The previous tenant was transferred to Texas, so they had to move.”
The trio halted inside the apartment. Like the hallway and staircase, the apartment’s highly polished hardwood floors were beautifully maintained. A narrow foyer led into the living room. Large bay windows overlooked the front of the building. Tia could see her SUV on the street below. Slowly, Chris strolled around the room, examining everything. He moved into the dining room and then checked out the kitchen.
Tia hung back, waiting in the center of the foyer near the entrance. She wanted Chris to establish his first impression of the apartment alone. She believed it was important for him to form his own opinion of the place without her input. After all, if he decided to sign a lease, he would be the one living here. Landlady and potential tenant slipped in and out of her view as they moved though the living room, dining area, and kitchen, asking each other questions and making comments. The pair returned to the living room where Tia watched them from her spot in the hallway.
“What are the move-in costs?” Chris folded his arms across his broad chest.
“First and last months’ rent, plus a security deposit that equals the first month’s rent,” Mrs. DiAngelo answered promptly. “A letter from your employer confirming your position will also be needed. Where do you work?”
“At the Renaissance Center.”
“Oh, this location is perfect for you.” She pointed toward the front of the building. “Shoot straight down Jefferson Avenue to downtown.”
“I see.”
The landlady perked up. “Are you French?”
