4. Chapter 4
Daria
“Where are you headed?” asks Jamie as I trek toward the front door, boho bucket bag dangling from my arm.
“Um. Out.” I toss a smile over my shoulder, hoping she doesn’t grill me about where I’m going. Her eyes are glued to her laptop as she finishes typing her article for her book blog. “I’ll be back in about an hour with some Thai food,” I tack on to avoid any further questioning.
Thankfully, her only response is a satisfied grunt, and I’m able to slip out the door without having to tell her I’m apartment hunting for the third time this week.
She’d flip and feel horrible, and I don’t want that for her right now.
Not with as busy as she’s been. The last time she asked about where I would be moving to, I deflected like the mastermind I am and said I wanted it to be a surprise.
She might not have totally bought the line, but I changed the subject back to the wedding, knowing she can’t resist gushing about all her plans. My only saving grace has been that she’s so absorbed in it all, she hasn’t had time for an honest to goodness chat with me in a while.
I’m just hoping I can somehow manage to find a place before she gets back from her honeymoon.
It only takes me ten minutes to drive across town to the old hotel that’s being remodeled into an apartment complex.
Treemont isn’t the biggest town, with just around twenty-thousand people, and there’s not a lot of new construction going on.
But at least this place is a solid contender for some new real estate.
Strolling up to the building I’m hoping won’t land on my not happening list, I’m thrilled to see a new exterior with lush landscaping that looks both sleek and modern.
I follow the white cement sidewalk to the front of the building and pray this place is done with construction.
If it’s not, it’s back to house hunting.
And since this is the last local option available, I’ll most likely have to look further out. I didn’t want to have to move so far away from my job at Gail’s or from Jamie and Briar, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I pull open the double glass doors and step into…a construction site.
My hope sags along with my shoulders as I scan the scene to try and spot Mr. Turcko, the property manager. The sound of power tools echoes in the space as I wind my way around the plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling.
As I round a corner, I find a middle-aged man in a suit speaking with another man in a hard hat. Neither seem to notice my approach, so I raise my voice and say, “Um, excuse me, Mr. Turcko?”
The man in the suit turns to me with a friendly smile. “Yes?”
“We spoke on the phone earlier. I’m Daria Dantez.”
“Ah, wonderful.” He excuses himself from his conversation with the other man, then extends his hand in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it. Are you ready to see the apartment?”
“Yes, definitely.” I can’t seem to put a lid on my grin as he directs me down a hallway that looks way more finished than the lobby we just traversed. The smell of fresh paint and new carpet fills my senses. My hope once again begins to build at an alarming pace.
“Here we are,” he says as he stops, pulls out a key, and opens a black door to our right. He gestures for me to go in ahead of him.
My eyes immediately gobble up the space’s fresh details, and a breathy response leaks from my lips. “Wow. This is so…nice.”
The property manager beams. “Thank you. We’re very proud of this renovation and hope to expand the complex to other sites.”
I glide around the room, feeling a little bit like I’m in a dream.
Cream walls, plush coffee-colored carpet, and large floor to ceiling windows make up the main living room and lead into an open concept kitchen that looks like it came straight out of a TV commercial.
White subway tile stands out against the quartz countertops and black kitchen cabinets with gold hardware.
It’s stunning. And way more upscale than anywhere I’ve lived in the past. That realization makes me think the rent he quoted me over the phone sounds way too low for an apartment like this.
I whip around and try to hide my rising embarrassment. “Um, Mr. Turcko, I feel like I might’ve heard you wrong over the phone. The price you quoted me…”
He holds up a hand like he already knows what I’m about to say.
“You’re not mistaken. This is my client’s first major rental property like this, and he wants to offer an introductory price as a way to fill the building before it’s complete.
He knows this isn’t just a new investment for him, but for the residents of Treemont as well. ”
“So…a thousand a month is correct?”
He nods. “It is. As long as you pay the deposit before the end of this month. Once the renovations are complete, the price goes up to thirteen hundred a month. And at that point, of course, we won’t be able to guarantee availability.”
Forget my hope building. Now it’s soaring, flying and throwing me into a fit of glee.
“Um, I’ll take it.” I don’t even have to think about it.
This place has my name written all over it.
It may be on the upper end of my budget, but I still think I’ll be able to manage without a roommate.
Who cares if it takes longer to save for my business?
At least I’ll have a nice, new place to live.
“Wouldn’t you like to see the bedrooms first?” A knowing smile crosses Mr. Turcko’s face.
I almost forgot this place even had two bedrooms. I’d take it as is and camp out on the spacious living room floor, if need be.
“Uh, yeah sure.” Tamping down my excitement, I walk down the small hallway to my left that leads to exactly two bedrooms, one large linen closet, and one beautiful bathroom, complete with cabinets that match the kitchen, glass and tile shower, and waterfall shower head.
If I wasn’t already in love with this place, I am now.
“Again,” I reiterate. “I’ll take it.”
Mr. Turcko smiles and opens his portfolio.
“We’ll be happy to have you.” He pulls out a small stack of papers that I assume is the rental agreement.
“Here’s the paperwork stating that you understand you’ll be entering a legal, binding contract and you agree to pay the security deposit by the end of the month. ”
He goes over a few more details as I set the papers down on the counter and take his proffered pen. I start signing my name on all the appropriate lines as he prattles on, but something he says catches my attention.
“Wait—you mean this isn’t the exact apartment I’ll be getting?”
“That’s correct. This is the model. But I can assure you this is what all the apartments at this development will look like. You’ll be notified as soon as yours is finished.”
“You mean it’s not…” I can barely get the word past the sudden lump in my throat. “ Finished .”
Mr. Turcko’s mouth pinches slightly. “I’m afraid not. But we’re confident the final renovations will be completed in the next six weeks.”
Six weeks?!
“But…I have to be out of my current place in two.” I didn’t mean to blurt that out, but subtlety has never been my strong suit.
A look that’s a mixture of concern and pity crosses the property manager’s face. “I’m sorry, Miss Dantez. I understand it’s not an ideal situation, but we have to make sure the building is up to code, and that everything meets the quality standards—”
I cut off his apology with a wave of my hand because it’s not his fault. He doesn’t need to feel bad for my predicament when he’s only doing his job. “No, please. You don’t need to apologize. I’ll…figure something out.”
I give the man a bright smile and finish signing my name on the last dotted line. Because even if this place won’t be finished for the next six weeks, it’s still the best option I’ve got.
Now, I just have to figure out where I’m going to live once Parker moves in and metaphorically pushes me out.