4. Gemma
Chapter four
Gemma
Rule #7: Gemma showers at night.
T he apartment was perfect. I met Sylvia after work to do a walk-through of the place, and I couldn't believe how breathtaking it was. There were only two units in the brick building, one on the bottom floor and one on the top. On the bottom floor, a foyer had a door to the left, which was the other tenant’s apartment entrance, and then a door on the right that led to a gym. The only way to the top floor apartment was via elevator with a key card, or through the gym and up a flight of stairs.
After taking the elevator with key card access to the second floor, the elevator doors opened directly into the spacious apartment. The main living space had a completely open-concept floor plan, with the foyer area opening up to the living space where two cream sectionals surrounded a modern coffee table. Beyond it, the gourmet kitchen with a full-length, quartz countertop island took up the entirety of the far wall. Floor-to-ceiling, industrial-style windows lit the space with a dream-like quality.
My mouth hung open during the entire tour. When Sylvia had said it was furnished, she hadn't been kidding. There were dishes in the cupboards and books on the built-in bookshelves. There were even towels hanging in the three-piece bathroom. It was only a one-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bathroom unit, but that bedroom was enormous, taking up the whole right side of the apartment and looking out over the city with charming postmodern details. When we were finished with the tour, Sylvia came to stand at the kitchen island as the light beyond the windows fell into a golden sunset. "Well?" she asked with smug expectancy.
It was stunning, and she knew it. This had to be worth a million dollars at least. How could she lease it to me for like $1500 a month? She's rich , I reminded myself. Of course, she could afford it.
Sylvia slid a lease agreement to me. "It's open to a second renter if you decide you need a roommate," she said with nonchalance. "But otherwise, it's all yours, my dear."
I gave her a bewildered blink. "I can't believe you're serious about this."
"I love to give back," Sylvia said with a shrug. "You simply presented an opportunity I couldn't pass up."
Somehow, I doubted that Sylvia Rook loved giving back. There was something about her that pricked at my instincts. The sharp barbs along the edges of her personality seemed liable to slice me, but I couldn't foresee how they would wound me if I signed those papers. But then again, what choice did I have? I had no other prospects for a home, and this was as close to miraculous as I could imagine. I had to try.
I read each paragraph of the lease agreement as meticulously as I knew how. For the most part, it went over my head. There was something about the early termination of a lease, cause for dissolution, and circumstances demonstrating the interdependence of an arrangement, but despite my love of reading and all things nerdy, I couldn't quite make out what it meant. I could say no. I could walk away and take the hard road. But I didn't have the luxury of refusing inexpensive housing within a ten-minute drive of my workplace.
I signed the papers, praying to whatever deity would listen that this worked out in a non-disastrous way for once. My instincts screamed in my face, silently wailing that there was a catch. They were probably right, but for now, I'd see how things panned out. Sylvia handed me the access key card. "It's yours, lovely. Feel free to move in whenever you're ready."
I looked around the twilight-drenched space in mute awe. This was mine? It didn't feel real. It's not real , a warning whispered in the back of my mind. I ignored it. I had a dream apartment to move into.
I took off the next day from work, which was a Friday anyway. When I told Janice what I had to do—and on a time crunch—she understood and gave both Ruth and me the whole day to get my things moved from my old apartment to my new one. I told Ruth about how I'd made a deal with the devil, and she gave me a worried look from behind her tortoiseshell glasses as she hefted a box of my clothing to the new apartment's elevator. "She had no strings attached after begging you to match up her son?"
I hit the little circle button that would take us straight into the new place. "I'm pretty sure there are strings, but I can't see them," I admitted. Mini sniffed the ground in a circle, her ears twitching and her tail half-wagging in both glee and wary curiosity. She'd only been in the new place once today, and she had spent a lot of time sniffing the bed, which was weird. I glanced at her, and then the doors opened to take us up. "Mini, come on. Quit smelling everything."
Mini obeyed, padding across the slick, black tile to enter the elevator with me. I rarely used a leash with her, but I made a mental note to make sure I had one for our first few walks in the new area. Ruth adjusted her grip on her box. "I mean, I guess if you have a nice new place, it's worth it to try it out. Cal and I are here if you need a fallback."
"Exactly." I felt a lot less confident than I sounded, though. This whole thing was shaping up to be stranger than I'd first anticipated. For one thing, the house had begun to feel more lived-in than furnished the more I brought my things over. I hadn't had a chance to look through the closets or pantries yet. I was too busy boxing up my shit last minute. But I had a sinking feeling of dread, like I'd been tricked into squatting in someone's house and would find out that Sylvia had played a cruel prank on me.
But no, that lease was legit. It had this address on it, and she owned the place. I had every legal right to be here. Maybe the last tenants had just left in a hurry and hadn't wanted a lot of their knickknacks and decor items. It was the fully decorated space that had me feeling like I was in a stranger's house. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Ruth and I finished piling boxes and suitcases full of my things in the foyer area, both of us sweating and puffing. It was unseasonably warm outside, and although we were both wearing T-shirts and jean shorts, we had both gotten sweat-stained and disheveled after six trips back and forth between the two apartments. I couldn't afford a moving van or anything, so we had kept piling stuff in the backs of our cars until I'd emptied the other apartment of everything but the major furniture.
"Do you need us to store some of your bigger stuff?" Ruth asked, moving her glasses out of the way to wipe sweat from her eyes.
Panting, I shook my head. "Let the asshole landlord deal with it. I don't want that old stuff anyway." The only things I had broken down and forced myself to cart over here were my computer desk and gaming chair—I loved those things.
Ruth nodded, looking around the sunny apartment. She had pulled her wild, brown curls into a ponytail that looked like it might burst at any second, and stray hairs fritzed out from her hairline like she'd been electrocuted. She had on a Goldbrook Urgent Care T-shirt three sizes too big for her that she must have stolen from Cal. After giving the space an unsure scowl, she returned her attention to me. "Something is off about this, Gem."
Didn't I know it. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen? I get evicted?" I'd finally told her the truth about my situation, and she hadn't been happy with me. Predictably, she'd offered to have me stay with her and Cal. Hard pass.
"You should have told me,” she said, folding her arms tightly. "We could have helped you find a place."
"You mean, Cal would have found a way to money-muscle his way into charitably creating a miracle for me?" I clarified derisively.
Ruth's cheeks went pink, and she pushed at her glasses. "Probably," she muttered.
"Not a chance. Besides, look at this place. It's great. Maybe I sold my firstborn to Rumpelstiltskin. Maybe a skin-walker is waiting to eat me. Who knows. It'll be fantastic."
Ruth gave me a concerned eyebrow tilt. "You worry me."
"That's like seventy percent of my charm," I grinned back. I blew a few strands of strawberry blond hair out of my face, wishing that I'd given in to my impulse to chop off all my hair earlier this summer. It was down to the middle of my back now, and it pulled at my scalp, begging to be let down from the messy bun I'd forced it into.
Ruth was unconvinced. "Call me when this blows up in your face."
"Deal." The empty, cavernous apartment stretched up at least fifteen feet to the surprisingly lush ceiling with its crown molding and industrial-style fans. As nice as it was, I suddenly realized that Mini and I would be alone in this place that was four times bigger than my last apartment.
Mini growled at the sofa. Ruth quirked an eyebrow. "Do you want to come stay at my place tonight? Just while you're settling in?" Translation: I think someone is going to kill you in your sleep.
"No, I think…" Sweat trickled down the valley of my spine, and I suddenly felt disgustingly sticky. "I think I'll shower. Go food shopping. You know, break the place in."
Ruth's eyes darted all over the apartment. "It looks broken in."
"Sylvia said it was fully furnished," I shrugged.
She gave me a half grimace, half smile. "Good luck, then, I guess."
"Thanks for your help. I owe you. Office marathon this weekend?" I started digging through the pile of stuff in front of the elevator, looking for my shampoo and towels. Although, whoever had lived here before had left a bunch. They were mine now, right?
"Only if you have lo mein," Ruth said with a yawn before checking her phone. She froze, features tight. "Oh. I forgot to tell Cal where I was all day."
I rolled my eyes. "That's so creepy. Is that even healthy? Why do you have to tell him anything?"
Ruth shrugged with a genuinely confused expression. "I literally have no idea. You think I know anything about actual relationships?" Her phone buzzed, and a picture of Cal standing in front of a sea lion lit up on her screen. She cleared her throat, bringing the phone to her ear and booking it to the elevator. "Hey." Her worn-out sneakers squeaked against the polished wood as she turned in the open elevator. She winced away from the phone. "Oh dear." To me, she mouthed, "Sorry." To him, she rushed to say, "I'm fine. I'm fine. Yes, I'm alive, I promise."
The elevator doors closed, and I snorted out loud. Monogamy looked positively stifling. Why was I trying so hard to find that? I'd gone on dating hiatuses before. The one I'd enacted in August hadn't lasted more than a week after I'd met Francis. But maybe it was time to revisit. Maybe I didn't need a partner as much as I needed some clarity. I couldn't gain clarity if I was worried about matching myself to fit another human.
Ah, but touch. Hugs. Sex. I groaned as I pulled my lilac-scented shampoo from the bathroom box. I really loved those things. Damn the men they were attached to. Mini's nails clacked across the hardwood as she explored, sniffing corners and lifting her head to the counter where she intuitively knew there might be food. "Who's a curious girl?" I cooed.
She immediately darted for me, slipping and sliding comically across the slick floors before crashing into my legs for pets. I laughed, scratching her ears. "What do you think? Do we like it?" She lifted her head and gave me an eyebrow wiggle before nuzzling me for scratches. I obliged, but then I shooed her over to the kennel I'd set up in the dining room area. "Bed. Come on. I don't trust you in a new place until we have everything put away."
As always, Mini obliged obediently. I'd trained her on a few things—bed, sit, come. She had "bed" down the best, and that was mostly because she was the laziest Doberman I'd ever seen. She loved her bed, and she didn't mind being closed in her huge kennel for short periods of time. She loped over to her fluffy bed, nuzzled her favorite stuffed animals and blankets around, and then slumped into a donut for sleep. Smiling, I gave her one more ear ruffle before closing the kennel and latching it.
Outside, the day had quickly deepened into dusky night, and I gave the enormous apartment one last, unsure glance before heading into the master bedroom and its attached bathroom. There was a powder room near the foyer, but this was the only full bath in the place. Which was perfect, because who wanted to clean more than one bathroom all the time? And this bathroom happened to be really luxe, with its marble double vanity, enormous mirror, and spacious, glass-enclosed shower. Everything had been done in natural tones with river rock on the shower floor and a window six feet up the wall to let in extra light.
There were extra rolls of toilet paper on the back of the toilet, towels on the towel rack, and a few folded washcloths on the bathroom counter. It felt more like a BnB than a new apartment. There was a half-used bar of soap on the sink counter, and as I turned on the shower to warm up, I even noted shower gel, shampoo, and conditioner in the corner. Gross.
As the shower steamed up the bathroom and I undressed, a shiver traveled down my neck and arms. Why would Sylvia leave shower items in a show apartment? Had she not had time to clear it out before giving it to me? She had said that it had just opened up. I wished I'd known it still had remnants from the last tenants before I'd officially moved in. I would have cleaned it before getting naked and taking a shower.
Rubbing my arms, I stepped into the hot shower stream and stared at the fogged-up glass nervously. As I turned in the water to get my hair wet, my heartbeat accelerated for no reason. What the fuck was I so nervous about?
Mini barked suddenly, loud and insistent. I jumped, my arms covering my breasts and my thundering heart leaping into my throat. If Mini was barking, that meant there was a person here. Before panicking, I thought through the possibilities. It could be a person downstairs. It could be someone outside those enormous, floor-to-ceiling windows she was barking at. Or a car. Or a cat. Or Ruth.
Wait, Ruth didn't have a key card.
Before I could come up with any other nonsense to banish my fears, the bathroom door flew open. I froze in place, too seized by fear to even scream. The shower door clanged open, releasing a burst of steam from the glass panel. A strong, muscled arm shot through the fog, and although I came to my senses enough to scamper away, the hand caught hold of my wrist. The stranger yanked me out of the shower before pushing me hard against the cold tile wall. Two hands pinned me to the wall, naked and sopping wet.
In a shocked stupor, I stared up into a pair of arctic eyes.
Rook.