Chapter 51
After fourteen apartment tours over the last few days, I’m getting disenchanted with what’s on the market, but there’s no way I am staying in my current place. I need a clean and permanent break from all things Adam.
As I walk down North Avenue in Wicker Park, I hold on to some hope that my next showing will look as good in real life as it did in photos.
It’s a three-bedroom, one-bathroom place with in-unit laundry and a balcony.
The price seemed almost too low, so I assume there’s a catch.
It’s immediately available, though, which is rare.
I don’t want to wait until May first. I need out now.
When I reach the building, I press the buzzer and glance around, taking in the neighborhood. It’s super close to the train and the highway. Through the intercom, a man’s voice says, “Hello. Here for the showing?”
“Yes. Dani Sommer.”
The front door buzzes, and I walk up three flights of stairs to the top unit.
This isn’t a luxury apartment by any means, but it’s nice.
Unlike my current building, there’s no doorman or amenity floor, but it’s also a lot less than my current apartment.
I’m really proud of myself that I can afford this place on my own.
“Dani, great name,” the man says at the door. “I’m Dan.”
“Hi.” I laugh at the twenty-something guy making a dad joke.
My first impression upon entering the unit is good. The living room is large and has a fireplace.
“I’m an investor-owner,” Dan says. “I live on the second floor and rent out this unit and the ground floor storefront.”
Nice. I assume that means my neighbor won’t be rowdy. Nodding, I walk through each room, and it has all the vintage charm of a quintessential Chicago apartment paired with the freshly renovated kitchen and bathroom.
“I really like how you updated the tile. The subway tile was a great choice.”
This would be a perfect apartment for me. I can dedicate one of the bedrooms to be my office and have the other one be my closet. There are a ton of cute boutiques and coffee shops around here too.
I’ve never had enough money to pick out my own place. It’s been a sub-lease with a friend of a friend, an open room I found on Facebook marketplace, and then my current spot, which Adam selected.
It would be smart for me to get a second opinion before signing the lease. The rent is too low. What am I missing? Taking Gideon up on his offer of “call me, and I’ll answer,” I put my phone to my ear. It’s the middle of the workday, but I’d like G’s opinion on this place.
“Dani, what’s up?” His tone is concerned when he answers. It’s cute.
“I think I found my apartment,” I say, standing in the kitchen.
“That’s great!”
“I want your opinion.”
“Where is it?”
“Wicker Park.”
After a brief pause, he says, “Okay. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
A smile spreads across my face, realizing he’s dropping everything to help me. Adam would never have done that; his work always came first. I text Gideon the address, falling for him even more.
“Do you have any more showings today?” I ask Dan, stepping back into the living room.
“Later. After five p.m.”
“One of my friends is on his way to give me a second opinion. He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”
Friend? Why did I say that? But G isn’t my boyfriend. Well, he is without the title.
“That’s fine.”
We make idle chitchat. Dan is nice, and I like that he is personally invested in this property.
Thinking about how I’m de-Adaming my life, I quickly type a message to his brother, Eric.
Dani Sommer
Hey. I wanted to let you know that Adam and I are done, done.
I want to be there for Lily, but I also think I should create more space between us.
I don’t want her to think I’m going to be a big part of her life.
I’ll always be there for her if she needs me.
I just wanted to let you know why you won’t be hearing from me anymore.
Eric Harris
Good for you. You can do so much better than him.
I am not going to cry. The intercom noise blares in the unit, and Dan buzzes Gideon in.
“Hey.” Gideon kisses my temple. It’s tender. My heart flutters at this simple gesture. We are dating. I’ve been caught up in the whirlwind and Adam drama that I haven’t internalized the fact that I’m dating Gideon Stone.
“Gideon.” He extends a hand to Dan.
To say that Dan’s face is having a fanboy reaction is an understatement. He’s paralyzed at the sight of G. It’s cute.
“Whoa. This is not how I was expecting my day to go,” Dan finally manages. “This is too cool to have Gideon Stone in my unit.”
“You own the building?” G asks.
“Yeah, I bought it a little over a year ago. It’s my first investment property.”
“Congrats, man.” G smiles and goes through the apartment. I follow behind, curious what he is looking for. Dan follows closely behind too.
“Are you cash-flowing this or flipping it?” he asks Dan.
“Cash flow.”
G nods and says, “This will be a great property for you. The renovations are nice, so it attracts easy renters like Dani, and the location is unbeatable.”
I had no idea G was such an idol to real estate guys. Dan is still recovering from meeting and interacting with him.
“The balcony is up to code, which is a big one, and everything else looks good,” Gideon shares with me. “If you like this place, get it.”
“Thanks.” I smile. “It means a lot. I’ve never picked out an apartment before.” He frowns. “My current place was my first time ever living alone, but you know …” I hesitate, and he nods. “This will be my first true place.”
G squeezes my hand. “Dan, what do you need from her to execute the lease?”
“Move-in fee and proof of income.”
Pulling the papers out of my bag, I hand them to Dan.
“I’m self-employed but doing well for myself.”
Gideon steps in with a suggestion. “What if she paid you two months’ rent upfront, and you waive the move-in fee?”
“Works for me,” Dan says.
“Another thought … Make the lease untraditional, like twelve months and two weeks or thirteen months. That way, it expires in May during Chicago’s peak leasing season versus right before it kicks off.”
Dan nods, probably unable to refuse any of Gideon’s suggestions.
“Also, switch to a fob system versus physical keys. Over five years, it will cost you less and is a value add for today’s renter.”
“You should start a podcast,” Dan says to Gideon. “I’d listen to it and get all of this advice from you.”
“I’ll talk to my publicist about it.” Gideon winks at me. “When you’re tired of building sweat equity, you know I have a fund.”
Dan laughs, and I shake my head. I’ve never seen G pitch his business before. It’s so natural for him.
“Of course, you can get larger returns doing it this way,” G says. “But it’s all a balance of risk, reward, time, and money.”
“Can I ask you one thing?” Dan asks G. “Why doesn’t Real-ity invest in Chicago?”
“We are. We aren’t broadcasting it. We’re strategically waiting for construction to complete and the building to be fully leased before we take credit for the project.”
“How have the reporters not picked up on it yet? They are obsessed with reporting on new developments,” he says, lapping up G’s every word.
“Because of the shell company that owns it. We structured it in a way that gives us privacy. We think build-to-sell works here. But not buy-to-manage.”
“Why’s that?”
“Predictability. There isn’t anything predictable in Chicago: property taxes, affordable requirements, tenant’s rights—they’re always changing.”
“No kidding,” Dan agrees.
“When a guy like you gives me fifty thousand dollars, I want to provide a predictable return with as much stability as possible.”
G needs to be leaning into thought leadership more. He could easily rack up press placements and interviews. A podcast, while time-consuming, could be a great way for him to market to more Dans, although his new fund is looking for more Adam types.
“Thanks.” Dan looks at me. “I’ll email you a lease to sign.”
“Can tomorrow be the start date?” I ask. “I really want to get out of my current apartment.”
“Sure. Once the lease is signed and the first two months’ rent is wired, we’re all set.” Dan seems like a nice guy. “This is lame of me, but can I get a photo with you?” he asks Gideon.
“I’ll take it,” I say, extending my hand to grab Dan’s phone and take a few options for him.
G interlaces his hand with mine as we walk down the stairs.
“Share an Uber back to River North?” he asks.
I nod, and he takes out his phone to summon one.
“What does my publicist think about podcasting?” he asks, standing behind me, holding me. I love when he holds me like this with his arms wrapped around my stomach and my back pressed into him.
“It’s a great idea …” I say as we wait for the car. “They’re expensive to produce. An easier first step would be to have your publicist reach out to a few podcasts and see if they want to interview you.”
“You have some in mind?”
I look up at him, and we smirk at each other. “I could get you on a podcast tomorrow, but I’m not your publicist.”
He chuckles and opens the car door for me.
“I might have to reconsider my rule about business and personal,” he says, playing with my hand as we settle into the car.
“I’ll send you a new rate sheet. I’m more expensive since the last time I emailed it to you,” I tease.
“I’m sure you are.” He chuckles and kisses me, his hand drifting to my neck. After a light squeeze, I’m suddenly aware of the Uber driver and pull back. “Are you happy with the new place?” he asks, his gaze melting me as he holds my hand.
“Very. It’s my first big-girl apartment.”
Back at my building, I sign the lease and tackle my final loose end. I call Adam’s assistant, Allison.
“Dani,” she answers warmly.
“Hey. So, Adam and I are no longer?—”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“So … I can’t talk with him right now, and it’s putting me in a bit of an awkward spot. I need to move out, and I don’t want to take any of the furniture.”
“What do you need?”
“I’m sorry to put you in this position, but could you ask him if he wants me to donate it?”
“Sure. I’ll get in touch with him and let you know.”