Chapter 4
Chapter
This must be the wrong place. This is a brownstone. In the West Village. I pull my phone out, scrolling to Chloe’s name because she gave me the address in the first place.
I hear her voice on the other end. “Hello?”
I met Chloe in freshman year of college, in line for orientation, and even though we never had a class together, we hit it off and were inseparable.
Everything about Chloe demands your attention: She’s tall, dark, beautiful, loud, eccentric, and somehow the funniest and smartest person in every room.
In the time I’ve known her she’s always looked out for herself—maybe that’s why we relate to each other.
She rarely shows her emotions, and when she does, it’s genuine.
“Hey, are you sure it’s 74 Perry?” I ask, looking around me in case there’s a more realistic 74 Perry in view.
“Let me check,” she says, and I can hear her shuffling around. “Yeah, that’s it.”
My gaze travels from the reddish brown hue of the exterior to the tree-lined street on either side of me.
There’s a woman in a white sundress listening to music through her headphones across the street, and coming up on my left is a man jogging alongside his gray and white pit bull.
This is by far one of the nicest neighborhoods in the city, so much so that I don’t even feel worthy of knocking on the door.
“How did Ethan find out about this place again?” I lift my head, subtly trying to catch a glimpse inside one of the windows.
“I think his aunt knows the person renting out the apartment.”
“Okay, yeah, apartment. Chloe, this is a brownstone in the West Village.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, it’s like very nice.” I continue to scan the street.
“Then what are you waiting for? Go!”
When you’re a recent graduate paying off student loans with a part-time job at a bookstore, and your current roommates have little to no respect for personal space, you will do anything to move.
In this case, showing up at a random address because your best friend tells you the guy she’s sleeping with heard it’s for rent.
“Okay, well, if I get murdered or something you know where I am.”
“You won’t get murdered in a brownstone,” Chloe says.
I sigh, turn off my phone, and put it in my back pocket. If this is really the right place, then it’s a steal.
I make my way up the stairs and knock on the front door, and about twenty seconds later an older man with white hair, khakis, and a cardigan over his dress shirt is in front ofme.
“Hello there,” he says.
“Hi.” I wave politely, hoping that I didn’t interrupt this man’s morning tea. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m June Wood. I heard that this unit is for rent?”
“Oh yes!” He opens the door wider and gestures for me to come inside. “I’m Stanley, the owner. Nice to meet you.”
The house is empty, but it’s not difficult to imagine what furniture and a touch of home decor could achieve.
Although it has a cozy charm, it’s big. I’ve never been inside of a brownstone before, and I now understand why it’s the New York dream.
The stair banisters are a dark oak and there’s a breathtaking fireplace in the living room and the crown molding along the ceiling has been well preserved.
The lighting fixtures are deep brass surrounded by antique herbarium wallpaper.
This is the Plaza compared with the one-bedroom apartment I share with two other people.
I quickly take out my phone and text Chloe.
It’s stunning…
“We’re not posting the listing until tomorrow, but I guess word got around.
” Stanley guides me into the living room.
“So, June, as you can see, it’s pretty straightforward.
Two bedrooms, two baths, and the square footage is a decent size and the neighborhood is safe compared to these other areas around the city. ”
Chloe texts back.
Get it!
“It looks great,” I say as I peek around the corners and catch a glimpse of a kitchen with all the necessary appliances.
There’s even a radiator, which will come in handy for the winter.
Stanley gives me a tour of the place: It’s clean, spacious, and no comparison to the studio apartments I’ve been looking at within my budget.
“I’m just looking for someone who will take care of it.
It’s been passed down for two generations, but far too big for me to stay here by myself,” Stanley says.
“No pets, no loud parties or orgies or anything like that, and I’ll stay out of your hair.
” He laughs as we make our way back to the living room.
“Oh, I promise there would be none of that!” I brace myself for the deciding factor. “Um, how much is the rent?” I say as coolly as possible, like no number can scare me off.
“Seventeen hundred a month with an eighteen-month lease.”
Holy shit. Anything in this neighborhood for less than $2,500 a month is unheard of. My only concern is that I’m still paying off my student loans, and it’s a hair over my budget. I also technically don’t need two bedrooms.
Stanley’s phone starts ringing, and he waves a hand to me. “Sorry, I’ll be right back. Feel free to keep looking around.”
Getting this place is a no-brainer, but I shouldn’t commit, knowing I can’t afford it. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and call Chloe.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I mutter to myself.
“How’d it go?!”
“It’s perfect, ” I whisper, mindful that Stanley’s in the next room. “I want it, I need it, but it’s a little over budget.”
“By how much?”
“Like four hundred dollars?”
“That’s not bad. Just pick up a few extra shifts at work.”
“I would, but I can’t with my rehearsals and class…Move in with me,” I beg.
“June, I literally just signed a twelve-month lease.”
“Nooo,” I cry. “I need this place.”
“Is there anyone else you could ask? At school?”
I’ve already tried asking everyone I could see myself living with if they’d go in on a new place with me. For some reason, everyone lives with their partners or just loves their current apartment and can’t imagine giving itup.
“I don’t think so…Chloe, I don’t want to lose this place.”
“Okay, okay,” she says in a voice that calms me a little. She’s always been good at that. “It’s only ten o’clock. Ask for an application and tell them you’ll fill it out tonight and get it back to them first thing tomorrow morning. We will figure this out.”
I hang up and pace around the empty living room.
There’s a bay window where I could sit and read my books and a wall opposite the fireplace where I could install the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf I’ve always dreamed of.
There’s a small outdoor space by the kitchen and an oak tree that would provide shade on hot summer days.
I have already fallen in love with this house and I can’t loseit.
“June, I’m sorry about that,” Stanley says as he makes his way back to the living room.
“Oh, no worries at all.”
“So, what do you think?” he says.
“I love it! I really do. I was wondering if I’d be able to take an application and bring it back tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” He walks over to the staircase and grabs an application from a stack of papers. “How about you come by tomorrow at eleven?”
“That’s perfect, thank you! And here’s…” I reach into my purse and pull out my wallet. I’m a little deflated about the lack of cash I have with me. “Five dollars…” I nervously laugh. “And my number and address. Can this be considered a deposit?”
“You know what, you keep the five. I’ll take your word that you’ll be back.”
“Sounds great—thank you, Stanley!” I head out the door and try to figure out how the hell I’m going to afford this home.
“What about Alexa? Wasn’t she looking for a place?” Chloe lies on my bed playing with a Rubik’s Cube.
“She went to Boston for postgrad.”
“Taylor?”
“Already asked her. She’s moving in with her boyfriend.” I flip through our old yearbook and scan each photo. “My shift starts in an hour. I need to figure this out before tomorrow.”
“I’ll ask around, don’t worry.” Chloe sits up. “But, June, if it doesn’t work out, maybe we just start from square one. There are a lot of studio apartments in Jersey you can live in.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just that Perry is so perfect,” I whine.
“Jesus Christ!” Chloe practically screams, looking over my shoulder. “How long have you been standing there?”
Peeking his head into my room is Mason, one of my roommates.
Not my roommate by choice—it was a last resort for trying to lower the rent.
Katie in my theater class asked if I wanted to sublet a place with her last year and thought it would be smart to bring in someone else and split everything three ways.
Now that Katie has a new girlfriend, she rarely comes home, so it’s pretty much just Mason andme.
“The door was open,” he deadpans at Chloe, reeking of weed and cat piss. “June, can you wash this for me?” He holds up a sweater with a beige stain.
“Ew, what is that?” I squint.
“Suki threw up on it. She keeps eating walnuts.”
“I don’t think cats should eat walnuts,” Chloe says.
“Well, no shit, that’s why she keeps throwing up,” Mason bites back, and Chloe widens her eyes atme.
“I’m not washing that for you.” I say with a shrug. How I got roped into doing his laundry on a regular basis is beyond me. “Besides, I’m moving out.”
“Just wash it with your next load then.” He throws the sweater on my desk and walks away.
I need to get out of here.
I’m one hour into work and trying my best to not think about the house. On most days, setting up book displays for a children’s author event would be the perfect way to spend my afternoon, compensated or not. Today, it feels difficult to concentrate on anything.
The Arcade Bookshop is one of the few independent bookstores in the West Village, and one of the more popular ones. I got the job in my sophomore year of college and always thought if I could no longer pursue theater, I would find a career in publishing.