I think the man thought I was rich or something. I'm not, I just have a plan for how I see my life, and I'm very efficient about how I approach it. Though I did have a modest savings, and Calvin... was rich. I smiled inwardly at my fuzzy boy.
If the heavyset man with the Brooklyn accent wasn't careful... I'd be owning the entire building in just a few years. He could act as smug as he wanted until he realized that I was simply being patient, not being a clueless platypus. He reminds me so much of the gangster wannabes you see on TV with his off the rack suit and his Rolex knockoff he always made a point of dangling in front of people as he checked it.
I know I make him sound bad, but the man did have some redeeming qualities. He was polite and when he didn't think people were watching, kept creeps and sketchy people away from his tenants even if it were outside on the streets. If a tenant is ever late with the rent, he was loud about it, but always gave them an extension.
His less desirable side only surfaced when he was negotiating or when Calvin was around. He wasn't a fan of animals because he says he's allergic. I don't put much stock in that. But it seems to get under his skin that he can't say anything about Cal living in the building since I own my apartment, and now that he is a service dog, it was like the exclamation point on the topic. It means even if he wanted to, he couldn't say anything about Cal living here now.
I gave him a smile as we joined him, looking at the old school satchel he carried with a bunch of blueprints rolled up he was holding between the handles. He inclined his head and offered his free hand to me. “Miss May.”
I shook as I tugged the leash twice and Calvin sat like a true gentleman on my left. “Mr. DiAngelo. Thank you for meeting with me.”
I could see the involuntary sly smile on his face like he had just spotted a mark. I tried not to answer it with one of my own, since that, and the fact he took the time to find the blueprints told me he was truly interested in a deal. Come on man, don't telegraph this stuff, it just makes it all the easier for me, Finnegan Temperance May, negotiator extraordinaire!
What? Did I ask you?
He grumped out, hiding away his smile as he fished out his keys. “Of course. I have a five o'clock interested in renting this studio, so we have to make this quick.” Le sigh. The old, 'other interested parties', and 'limited time' ploys.
I nodded as he tapped on the door. “Mrs. Chen? Building owner.” When she didn't answer, he explained to me as he unlocked the door. “Just checking. She knows we are coming and she said she was going to be out with her daughter. But it wouldn't be polite to barge in if she changed her plans.”
See? Polite. He looked almost embarrassed being caught being human. I couldn't help but like the man.
He held the door open for Cal and me and we moved into the small studio apartment. I squeaked, “Thank you,” as I passed. He gave a non-committal grunt and followed us in.
I had been in Mrs. Chen's a couple times when helping her bring groceries up, and of all the studios on the third floor, hers was the most desirable to me, being the corner unit and having windows facing two directions instead of the boxed in studios which just had one.
The space right now was just basically one big open room that had an archway which sort of divided the space in two, the sleeping area and the all-purpose room that was the kitchen and living room combined. The only other room was the bathroom. To qualify as livable space, it had a small closet as required. None of this mattered to me as I would be gutting the place and redesigning it if we could come to an accord here.
I had to smile at how Mrs. Chen had knick-knacks displayed on every possible surface, yet it didn't feel cluttered. I absently straightened and alphabetized the magazines she had on her coffee table as I noted, not for the first time, that she was almost Fin tidy. She was awesome in my book.
Mr. DiAngelo was cocking his head oddly at me, his eyes narrowed in thought. Oh. Come on, I am not OCD.
I stopped what I was doing and turned in place, looking at the space. The window on the north side, overlooking the space between the building and the diner next door was small, mirroring the one in the small bedroom in my place, the one overlooking west 57th was twice the size like the one in my bedroom. I could imagine the bed beside that window and pictured in my mind's eye having a large walk-in closet and larger bathroom up here, leaving the bedroom about thirty percent larger than the one we slept in now.
Mr. D cleared his throat and said, “When you expressed interest in negotiating the purchase of 3A here, I took the liberty of requesting the building floorplans from the building department.”
I nodded. I still had a matching set tucked away in my closet from when I had the balcony constructed in my place, but I humored the man.
He unrolled the plans and placed the second and third floor beside each other for us to look at. Then probed for something he could use in the negotiation, “Just why do you need a second apartment? Things not going well with your cop friend?” He hid the smirk which some men had when talking about lesbians. It is all one big bubble bath, pillow fight, sex fest in some guy's minds.
I pointed at the small bedroom in my place as I noted again how the studio sat neatly directly over the two bedrooms and bathroom of my place. It made things so much easier to do. I had to contain my excitement over the fact this would increase our apartment size another fifty percent. Not to mention opening up a little more space below.
An office nook would be great to have, then I wouldn't need an office desk in my bedroom. And Jane would love a spot she could sit to go over the case files she wasn't supposed to be going over at home. I let her slide on that because she put up with all the other rules we have agreed upon since she moves in.
I said as I shrugged, “I just wanted to expand. Over would be ideal, but up is ok.” I tried to keep my voice bland like it was no big deal if I did or not. I tapped my finger on the plan. “If you sell, I was thinking of installing a spiral staircase to use this space as another bedroom.”
He moved in closer to look at the two plans, as he looked at them in quiet thought. I could see him noting the position of the two spaces, and he nodded absently. Then he said as he rubbed his chin, “Well, I don't know... I 'm not sure if I'm willing to sell and lose more rent. You're chipping away at my profits, Miss May.”
I stood from where I was leaned over the plans and exhaled as I shrugged like it was no big deal. “Ok, not a problem. Sorry to waste your time here, it was just a silly notion I was playing with anyway.”
Cal and I hadn't taken two steps toward the door when he called out, “Hang on there. I didn't say I wouldn't sell, just that I was unsure.”
I smiled to myself then schooled my face as I turned around.
He prompted, “What were you thinking? Offer-wise that is, Miss May?”
I shrugged. The apartment appraisals were public record, and I knew it was worth four hundred and thirteen thousand according to the city. I lowballed him. “Well, it wasn't anything I was seriously planning. How does three fifty sound?”
He snorted. “I couldn't let it go for anything under seven.”
Ok, this was it, he was willing to negotiate, and his price was lower than I had anticipated. His pie in the sky number opposing mine told me he'd settle around a half million instead of the six hundred thousand I had originally thought.
I smoothed my skirt and tucked my loose curls behind my ears as I went into Fin Battle Mode version 1.0 and the negotiations began. I'd share the dirty details, but they aren't for the faint of heart. Believe me, you are better off knowing how an old-fashioned New York City negotiation goes. And I may or may not have used some flowery language I'm not proud of.
Sure I may be adverse to profanity, but my momma taught me some vulgarities that would make a sailor blush, and instructed me on the proper time to use them. This... was the time. It was sort of fun to be able to cut loose with a Brooklyn native who was nursed on profanity.
That brought us to
us shaking hands in agreement a few minutes later. “A pleasure doing business with you Miss May.”
My cheeks burned for poor Calvin having to listen to his mommy's potty mouth and told the man, “Thank you, Mr. DiAngelo. Likewise. I'll have my lawyer draw up the papers and get things rolling at the bank.”
I had a hop in my step as Calvin and I made our exit to go back downstairs. The amount? Four hundred and ninety-seven thousand, thank you very much. Well, and I have to pay for a second dumpster for the building and replace the two washers and dryers in the basement for the tenants. But this was a huge win. I saved a hundred thousand from my initial guess.
Oooo, now I can have some fun modifying the tentative seven-year plan I had outlined when I came up with this idea. Hey, you have your hobbies, I have mine.
I told Cal with a little hop in my step, “Come on fluff monger, let's go home and rest. This has been a hectic afternoon.”
I giggled and rolled my eyes when we reached our floor, and I saw the afternoon wasn't over yet. I waved, not knowing what to do with my hands as I said, “Hi Jess,” to the shapely redhead sitting in the hall with her back against our door. Her smile bloomed as I released Calvin to run over and greet her himself, tongue lolling and tail swishing so hard he was almost knocking himself over.
She grinned up at me as she cringed at the wet sloppy slurp Cal gave her. “Hey, short stuff.” She winged her thumb at the door. “You ladies ain't home.”
I nudged her shoulder with my hip as I unlocked the door and teased her as she stood, “Very astute of you. Come on in, lady. When's your date?”
She looked a little sheepish when she slipped in with us. Ah. Booty call fell through, so she's going to slum it and join Jane and me for girls night, got it. We really needed to find Jessie, someone, she really deserved to be happy.
“Join us for girls’ night. Can I get you anything? Coffee, cola... apple juice.”
She sighed, and my heart sank for her. “Ah. Beer it is then.” I'd grab one from the crisper in the fridge which I had neatly labeled 'Jane's Contraband' since we were mostly an alcohol-free place.
I smiled over at her as I watched her getting Calvin out of his harness at the door and hanging his stuff on the appropriate peg. It made me smile how much the woman seemed to be integrating into our life here.
If you had pointed her out to me on the street, never in a million years would I have guessed that someone like her would wind up being one of my best friends ever.
I joined her on the couch to watch the news as we waited for our intrepid Detective to get home to join us.
Chapter 6 – Liberty
The next morning I woke up and almost snorted. We were all getting old, weren't we? I was in one of my favorite positions, asleep on the couch, using Jane as my favorite pillow. Jess was snoring lightly where she was curled into the loveseat with Calvin and Goldie.
After I picked up the silly Golden Retriever from the vet, we all settled in for pizza, talk, and a movie. To my amusement, we had all fallen asleep watching the movie.
The vet informed me they couldn't identify the stray because his chip had been removed. They found some scarring under the fur on his neck where someone had likely made an incision to remove it. Why would someone do that? Did they steal him? Was the poor guy a victim of dognapping?
Since we didn't have a name for him, then Goldie it was. It made the girls just roll their eyes at me. What? And no degree of my best puppy-dog eyes would convince Jane that we needed another waggy tail around the apartment. I had capitulated the point to her. “Monday I'll bring him to Central Park Tails so we can find a loving home for him.”
This prompted a grin from her that I sneak attack kissed off her face, to Jess', “Dawwww.”
I pointed at her in warning. “That's enough out of you... Mable.”
Jane snorted and told her exasperated ex, “Don't fight it, just go with the flow. There's no winning with the pipsqueak.”
I shot the snarky detective some duck lips, which she circumvented by issuing a sneak attack kiss of her own. If it was possible to sigh yourself into a contented puddle, I was close.
It had been a fun night. And I could tell my instincts about Jess being lonely and just hooking up with random girls at bars was spot on, judging by the way Jane tried to keep things upbeat. Intellectually I know that their intimate relationship was over, but emotionally I felt a pang of jealousy whenever Jane doted over the redhead. That's just my insecurity because I loved Jess too and wanted her to be happy, so I'd concentrate on that aspect.
It was actually sort of inspiring that their relationship ended without any animosity. And Jess liked to play with that acceptance whenever Jane was being... well, was being Jerk Cop. Like that night, she had texted Jane that she was dropping by for girl's night. I'm sure it was so Jane didn't get jealous. But Jane's teased about keeping her hands off the merchandise... me being the merchandise.
When she got home, Jane had shown me the text response from the snarky badass in Jess. She had basically said that she had me umm... in an interesting position, screaming her name, in an attempt to make Jane jealous. Is it bad that I knew Jane had stewed over it, even though she knew Jessie had been playing her like a violin?
Now... is it bad that even though I was mortified and blushing profusely about the text, that a little part of me was wondering if that position were even possible. Lord, I was the worst lesbian ever... as I wouldn't have a clue what to do if Jane ever lets me show her how I felt about her. I'm thinking that this is why Jess calls me a 'baby gay.'
I yawned and looked back up to Jane who, as always, was awake before me, staring down at me with a soft smile on her lips. I wondered absently if she knew just how beautiful she was. And I hated her because she never seemed to get bedhead, unlike me, who likely looked as though a duck and a wolverine had made a love nest in my hair.
Her smile widened. “There she is.” She stroked my cheek lazily then leaned over to give me an whisper of an upside down kiss.
We snorted when an apparent possum playing Jessie blurted, “Gack! Don't these two ever stop Cal?”
She grinned over at us, and she asked Jane, “I still can't believe you haven't had her splay-legged on the bed screaming your name, Five-O, you're losing your touch.”
Jane groused out, “Jess, behave!” And tossed a pillow right in her kisser, which excited the dogs who extracted themselves from the dog-pile and hopped to the floor, tails wagging.
I could feel the tips of my ears and cheeks almost catch fire as I squeaked out at the same time, “Jess!” Is it wrong a part of me imagined the scene? By the swishing tail and lolling tongue, it was hot in the apartment!
I slipped out of Jane's arms and yawned and stretched, smoothing down my now decidedly crumpled sundress. “On that note. I gotta take the brats out for a walk before they lift their legs on the coffee table.”
I wandered into the bedroom, Calvin showing me the way, the silly boy. On a lark, I stopped at the door and prompted our oversexed guest through another yawn, “We're heading out to mom's in Liberty in a few hours, you're welcome to join us.”
She looked to Jane as if for permission, when she didn't protest, she said, “You know, I think I might. Heading out into the podunk wilderness sounds relaxing today.” Her grin was all teeth.
I pointed at her. “Jane, attack!” She didn't attack. Then I pouted as I left the grinning women there, “It's only two hours from the city, it's not the podunk wilderness you Ruby Rose wannabee.”
I smiled at the explosive burst of laughter as I closed the door behind me.
I quickly texted mom about having plus two today. She responded cryptically that she had a surprise for me too. Ok, with her that could mean anything from picking up a new hobby like cage match wrestling, to the more unlikely possibility she met someone and is dating. I worry about her sometimes, dad would have wanted her to be happy, it's been fifteen years since he died.
Wow. H
as it really been that long? More than half my life now? I still missed him so much. I think a small portion of my psyche is still stuck as the thirteen-year-old me, thinking every time I walk into our family home in Liberty, that I'll see dad sitting in his overstuffed chair, reading the paper.
I wonder if that is why mom stays there, the memories. A three bedroom, two and a half bath house is a little much for a single woman living on her own.
I slipped through the passthrough door into the bathroom and squished my lips to one side when I saw the state my hair was in. It looked as if a weed eater and a cotton candy machine had a duel to the death in it.
I brushed it out quickly, yawned, then thought about changing... yesterday's dress was good enough for a walk before my shower. Then I could get into something more presentable. Maybe I could tease Jane by wearing jeans again. Nah, why do that when I had a new pink and white striped sundress I was dying to wear?
I usually liked solid colors but Jane had me wanting to dress a little more daring at times.
I sighed and headed out to the main room. Jessie teased from where she and Jane were standing by the coffee maker, waiting for the pot of the elixir of the gods to finish brewing, “Isn't that the same outfit you had on yesterday Fin? Oooo... I'd say this was the walk of shame... if I thought Five-O here would ever make her move.”
As my cheeks heated, Jane pushed the woman's shoulder and quipped, “Behave, Red.”
I looked back at my bedroom. I could change and... Jane blurted, “For god's sake, Jess, you broke her.” Then to me, she assured to stop me from changing, “You look fine, Fin.” Damn, now it was in my head.
It took all my willpower not to go running into my room to pull out the new dress. Instead, I defiantly glared at the evil redhead beside her and started back toward the front door, just to trip on an invisible whatsit, or possibly a 'nothing at all.'
Case of the Gold Retriever Page 6
