For the next sixty seconds, I listen to the woman on the other end of the line. I offer the occasional affirmative response, but my gaze holds on Connor.
He grins.
I bite my lip.
His eyebrows soar.
I smile.
He smiles bigger.
I nod.
He throws a fist in the air then dips down to meet my eye and mouths,“I told you.”
The next morning,I show Connor the joys of the hallmark New Yorker breakfast: a lox and cream cheese bagel on the go. We split the monstrosity between us wrapped in brown paper, passing it back and forth on our way to the subway station.
With the hotel only a couple of blocks from Saks, this is the perfect opportunity for us to get a sense of the exact commute I’ll have to make when I start work in a couple of weeks.
Executive Assistant to the buyer for the shoe department at Saks Fifth Avenue.Wild.
We take the ten-minute ride to the stop at 33rd where we get off and switch to the Jersey bound PATH train. When we arrive at the station in Hoboken twenty minutes later, it’s another ten minutes by foot to the area where we’ve scheduled tours in three different apartment complexes.
“See. It isn’t so bad,” I say as we step onto the sidewalk in Hoboken.
“Forty minutes is not a short commute,” he chuckles.
“Maybe so, but it is easy.” That wicked side eye teases me. “Just wait until you see the apartments.”
We tour the first two complexes and I could easily say yes to at least one of the units I see. It’s risky to keep looking, but the last building is the one I’m most excited about. And if Connor’s increasing interest is any indication, I think these accommodation options this side of the Hudson might win him over after all.
Here, there’s space to breathe, windows with views of the Manhattan skyline, washers and dryersinsidethe apartment, and the city’s only a train ride away. The best part? When the sun goes down and the skyscrapers across the river come to life with light reflecting off the water, New Jersey is quieter, calmer. I prefer to slow down and embrace the stillness at the end of my day and it feels like I can find that here.
After a quick lunch stop, we head to the final complex.
The first apartment is a bust; first floor unit and no view. But the second apartment is perfect.
Up on the fourth floor—accessible by elevator, thank God—it has a small terrace that overlooks the complex courtyard below and it’s close enough to the river-facing end of the building that I have a partial view of the Manhattan skyline. It’s a studio, but there’s enough square footage to create a separate living and sleeping space. And the bathroom has a vanity style sink with counter space and storage.
“I think this one will go quickly. We contracted another lease for this exact unit on the opposite side this morning,” the leasing manager says as I scan the crown moldings on the ten-foot ceilings and the hardwood floors that look brand-new.
I give Connor a hesitant smile and his mirrored expression tells me he knows what I’m about to say. “I’ll take?—”
“You said you had some one-bedroom units available?” Connor speaks over me, directly to the agent and I spin to glare at him, but he avoids my dagger-hurling eyeballs entirely.
“We do. A couple floors up we have a corner unit. It’s beautiful. Would you like to see it?”
Quickly, I sputter, “No, I don’t thi—” Connor covers my mouth with his hand. I flare my eyes at him but he ignores that, too.
“Yes, that’d be great. Thanks,” Connor answers.
Hot on the agent’s heels, I’m tempted to elbow Connor in the ribs, but I refrain. The one-bedroom units in this building would overextend me financially. I know I’ll love this gargantuan, river-facing apartment with the unobstructed view and end up disappointed that I can’t afford it.
Connor leans down as we step off the elevator to trail the agent down the hall. “Relax, Fish. We’re just looking.”
I tug him by the arm and whisper back, “These units are fifteen hundred dollars more per month, Connor. I can’t afford it.”
He winks and pins me with a smile that could melt metal. Next thing I know, he ushers me inside the most perfect apartment to ever exist.
