good.â
âGreat. Iâll pick you up at the hotel entrance.â
Chris took her hand and squeezed it. Physical awareness sizzled between them. An electrical current zinged its way down to her toes. âI appreciate you so much. Thank you for everything.â
âYouâre welcome.â Tia quickly put some distance between them as she rose from the chair and dragged it back to its place on the opposite side of the desk.
Â
For most of the week, Tia and Chris spent their free time debating the merits of living on the east or west side of town. After many explanations, Tia finally convinced Chris to make the east side of town his first search location. Her rationale: going east would make it easier for him to get back and forth to work. Plus, she assured him that if he didnât find the type of apartment he wanted, they could continue their search on the west side.
On Saturday morning, Tia and Chris stood in front of a sprawling, two-story, brown brick apartment building that sat on a well-manicured lawn. Red, violet, pink, and white flowers sat beneath freshly trimmed shrubs. White shutters decorated the exterior of the windows at the front of the building.
Chris glanced at the ad in his hands. ââTwo-bedroom apartment located in the heart of Grosse Pointe Farms; easy access to downtown Detroit; safe, quiet neighborhood; park within walking distance and secured parking.ââ
Impressed by what she saw, Tia turned to Chris. âWhat do you think?â
Nodding, he pressed his lips together for a moment and then answered, âI like the outside.â
âMe too.â She nudged her companion. âCome on. Letâs take a look at the inside.â
Together they strolled up the curved walkway, pushed open a wooden door with an etched figure in the center of its frosted glass pane, and entered the foyer. Brown tile covered the floor, which contrasted with the tan and cream tiles decorating the walls. Metal mailboxes with apartment numbers and buzzers were secured into the wall that lined the tiny room. Without delay, Tia located and then rang the managerâs apartment.
Minutes later, the door swung open and a plump, middle-aged woman in a floral house-dress and flip-flops greeted them. Her sharp, assessing eyes latched on to Chris, widening a fraction as she did a slow perusal downward. With an approving nod, she grinned back at him, ignoring Tia. She could tell the woman liked what she saw.
âYou are?â she asked him, regaining her professional posture.
âChris Jensen.â He captured her hand between both of his.
Flustered, the woman blushed and giggled. âIâm Mrs. DiAngelo, the landlady and manager.â
Trying not to laugh, Tia turned aside. It didnât matter what age or race of woman, Chris had a way of charming the ladies.
âPleasure,â Chris added, dropping her hand. âWeâre here about the apartment.â
âOh, yes. Itâs on the second floor.â The woman opened the door wider and waved Chris into the apartment building. âCome, come. Iâve got the keys with me.â
Tia slipped through the door before Chris. For the first time, Mrs. DiAngelo noticed Tia. The older womanâs eyes narrowed. She glanced at Chris.
âThis is Ms. Edwards.â
Mrs. DiAngelo nodded toward the younger woman. The warmth she exhibited toward Chris quickly shifted to cool wariness. Tia got the same once-over that Chris had received. It was instantly clear that she fell short of expectations. She smiled sweetly and trailed after Chris and the manager/landlady.
They climbed a series of stairs to the second floor. All the while, Mrs. DiAngelo chatted amicably with Chris while excluding Tia, who felt fine with this turn of events because it gave her a chance to take a better look at the building as they ascended the stairs.
The building was quiet, and every floor looked clean and well kept. As they headed
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley