"Any place is a home if you're delusional enough." I gave her a razor-sharp smile. "I'm happy to escort you back to Janice's office if you'd like."
The older woman watched me, her thoughts clearly slowing to a sluggish halt as her features fell in disappointment. Finally, she sighed, defeated. "Very well. You're right, of course. I know it's crazy what I'm asking."
It was, but I didn't say that. "I'm sure all parents want their children to be happy," I offered with a hint of my usual brightness.
She nodded. "I apologize if I offended you, Ms. Daise. I didn't mean to take advantage of your troubles. It was gauche of me. I just get desperate sometimes. I always dreamed of a wedding, of grandchildren and a happier home than the one I raised Knox in. It's the forlorn dream of a desperate, old woman, I suppose. But that wasn't a reason to exploit your personal weaknesses. Please accept my apology." She spoke so formally, but I heard a touch of genuine emotion in her words.
I am such a fucking softie, I thought with a groan.This woman should not be making an impression on me."I'm sure a lot of people have trouble finding apartments in the city. It was a fair assumption to make."
"We have a real estate business," Silvia said, relaxing as well and looking out the window. She seemed to have let go of her insistent need to match Rook with an unsuspecting sucker, for now. "Honestly, we have benefitted quite a bit from the housing crisis, monetarily."
A squeeze of irritation tightened my throat.Good for you? Jesus."Oh."
She returned her attention to me like something had just occurred to her. "We do often give back when we can. We had an apartment open up this afternoon. Would that be helpful to you?" She rushed to add, "Not as a bribe. I mean this genuinely."
Despite my confusion over her whiplash demeanor, my heart gave a leap of hope. "How… do you mean?"
Silvia sat up straighter. "I hope this isn't untoward, Ms. Daise. I'm speaking strictly from one human to another. Are you looking for a place to live?"
"I mean, yeah, I've been looking for over a week." I regarded her warily. "Are you saying you have an opening? My budget is a little tight."
She waved that away. "If I were to offer a lease at a price you can afford, would you accept that as an apology for my terrible behavior?"
I stared at her in blatant confusion. "Wait, are you serious?"
"Absolutely." Sylvia leaned over, and picking up her black, quilted purse with a shiny designer logo, she fished out her phone. "I'll show it to you. It's a beautiful place with plenty of room and a wonderful location."
I choked. "Mrs. Rook, I really don't think I can accept anything like that."
"Nonsense." Sylvia Rook spoke with the assured confidence of someone with all the money and power in the world. Like her suggestion had become an uncontested fact. "You must come see it. When do you need to move in?"
My equilibrium took a nosedive, and I felt my head swim. "I—are you positive?"
She turned her phone around to show me a picture of a sunny, open-concept apartment that was probably ten times more expensive than I could afford. "I really insist, Ms. Daise. You'vemade an impression on me for the better. If I can help, then please let me. Do you like it?"
I gaped. "It's… gorgeous."
"It is, isn't it?" she smiled, turning the phone to look at it herself. "And it's fully furnished. Appliances, furniture, decor—all of it is included."
This couldn't be real. "I really don't think I can afford that," I offered weakly.
"Price is no matter," she said again, as if I'd expressed worry over the color of the walls. "Do you need a home, Gemma?"
Hope crawled up my throat in a wave of tears. "I really do."
She smiled with a crisp snap. "Then you have one."
Chapter four
Gemma
Rule #7: Gemma showers at night.
The 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 livingspace 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.
