Giselle "G" Rowe
Saturday, January 14 | 12:23 p.m.
Downtown
-
"While this is our smallest unit on the tour, it certainly has one of the most beautiful views." Dorian smiles, opening the door to the studio apartment and ushering me inside.
Her heels click noisily on the hardwood floors and she untucks the clipboard from underneath her armpit to read from the scribbled on yellow sheet of paper. Her light ginger hair mimics the sunshine and the feminine business suit is tailored perfectly to her slender frame. "It's around 1,015 square feet, surrounded by plenty of restaurants, and even includes a little nook for a washer or a dryer."
"Not both?" I thoroughly scan the space, walking into the middle of the room. This is the second option out of a total of four and so far, I'm just not wowed enough.
"I'm afraid not." She offers me a closed mouth smile before excusing herself to take a phone call.
The crystal clear, floor to ceiling windows are definitely the stars of this place. I peer outside, getting close enough to see my warm breath on the glass. Located in the heart of the city, I'm able to spy on every passerby as they walk, bike, and drive down the street. Many of them enter and exit the surrounding buildings, leaving work and returning home — all oblivious to my existence just as I was to theirs a few moments ago.
Sonder has plagued my mind randomly for the past couple of days and I often catch myself dissociating during conversation or whenever I'm supposed to be completing a task. It's like my mind is blank and crowded all at the same time. Right here and a million mile away simultaneously.
Maybe it's a side effect of my broken heart — something that I hate thinking about. Two whole weeks have passed since the incident, since I've heard his voice and I haven't made a single ounce of emotional progress. What is moving on?
I turn around to see Dorian's painted pink lips moving at lightning speed as she happily bounces towards me.
Oh shit. I'm doing it again.
"Pardon?" I blink.
"What do you think? Can you see yourself living here?"
"To be honest, no." I sigh apologetically. "It's a bit too open for my liking. I mean, I don't wanna have my bed smelling like whatever I've cooked that day. Mind if we move onto the third prospect?"
"Oh, it's no problem at all, Miss Rowe." She chirps, holding her clipboard to her chest. "The next property is on Garden Street."
Building number two is located towards the outskirts of the city and its spacious interior as well as the price certainly reflect that. I can't help the giddy grin that spreads across my face as I look over the modernized one bedroom apartment. The windows aren't nearly as big as the previous unit's, but there's a certain coziness inside that I'm super fond of. I take my time examining twice and fall deeper in love.
This has to be it.
The walk through the fourth apartment is quick and before I know it, I'm bidding Dorian a goodbye and rushing to local retail stores for cardboard boxes. I'll pack up just one or two to manifest my move and to keep my spirits high. Option number three was made for me. I know it.
Maybe I could bloom on Garden Street.
**********
Thursday, January 19 | 4:39 p.m.
Downtown
-
I sigh nervously as I step through the crowded premises, feeling more than a few pairs of eyes on me. Of course the majority of them are male. Regardless, I keep my head high and my back straight, refusing to let on how lost and anxious I feel.
The black, backless bodysuit is one of my creations. It's skin tight and made from the smoothest polyester, cotton blend and paired with a cropped sweatshirt of the same color. A body wave lace closure sits atop my head, swaying with each step and tickling the small portion of exposed skin behind me.
I never wear wigs, but tomorrow is a special occasion — my 24th birthday and my website launch day.
My very first shipment arrived a few days ago and I've chosen the perfect website layout to open my shop at midnight. That will be my celebration this year, making more money and a hot meal of my choice from my parents.
On my way home from running errands, I came across a sign advertising some sort of networking event for creatives and small businesses owners and decided to check it out. The building is kind of old and creaky, but it's swimming with potential customers. I walk up to a small stand littered with eyelashes and what appears to be homemade lip glosses with a smile.
The seller is a young lady, probably still in high school with blue rubber bands on her braces and two giant puffballs on either side of her round head.
She's probably too young to shop with me.
The older woman behind her with an identical wide nose and deep brown skin beams when I whip out my cream colored wallet.
But her mother isn't.
We quickly exchange pleasantries and I leave with two glosses — one strawberry scented, the other vanilla, and a new customer waiting for me to launch.
Turns out, networking is pretty easy. I go down the line, buying more things and trading social media handles with like-minded individuals. Compliments are thrown my way left and right, increasing my confidence by the minute and I mentally pat myself on the back for putting myself out there. Especially with no backup.
"Nah the material is mad soft." A man with short locs and dark beady eyes glides his palm across the back of my thigh. Apparently the three of them are jewelry cleaners and he flagged me down to speak just as I was walking past their table. "I might have to cop one for my bitch."
"Okay." I take a step back, breaking free of his touch. "Well, I'm launching tonight and I do custom orders so just have her hit me up if she's interested."
"I said that I'm the one paying so why would she hit you up?" He furrows his brows together, mugging me for a second before a smirk tugs at the corners of his dark brown lips.
"Umm, right." I chuckle dryly, unlocking my phone to show him my business page. "Well this is me."
"I'on really be on social media like that." He doesn't even spare the screen a look, leering at my face. "Let me get yo' number."
The two other men beside him snicker and my feeling of discomfort shoots through the roof.
Just when I thought I was in the clear.
"No thank you." My attempt to walk away is halted by a tight fist encasing my wrist.
"How you gone call yo' self a business woman but you turnin' down money?"
"You need to stop fucking touching me!" I yell, snatching away from him and garnering the attention of a handful of others.
A man with light brown skin and a willowy build half jogs over, switching his gaze back and forth between the two of us before ultimately settling on me. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." I slip past him and head for the exit, adjusting my nearly full purse on my shoulder. The three supposed jewelry cleaners raise their voices in protest as the other man catches up with me.
"I think it would be safest if I walked you outside." He shoots me an apologetic smile. "Amir."
"Giselle." I reply, allowing him to take the lead and a wave of deja vu hits me. June escorted us out of Fuego after defending me from some other creep.
Is history repeating itself for a reason?
My car is parked facing the road and I get lost in the vehicles speeding down the highway, wondering where they're going and who they are. It isn't until Amir turns to face me completely that I realize that he's been talking.
"My bad, what did you say?"
"You seem to have a lot on your mind." He chuckles. "I asked if you'd like to get something to eat sometime?"
I cock my head to the side, running my tongue over my teeth as I think it over.
"Listen, it's fine if you don't want to. I know you're busy with your business and all." He shrugs amicably with kind eyes. "I just thought that you were really interesting, the type of woman that I'd like to get to know more."
"Sure." I relent, giving him my contact information and he skips away with a proper grin.
Four men come striding out of the building with posters advertising a tattoo parlor and one of them hones in on me just as I get behind the wheel. This is the first time that I've seen Dexter without his signature red eyes and crisp line up makes him look more like his cousin.
Or maybe everything just reminds me of him.
He opens his mouth almost as if he's going to speak to me and I perk up, unable to hide my curiosity. I don't think we've ever exchanged more than just polite hellos with each other. However, words never come and he breaks eye contact, unlocking his own door.
With a deep sigh, I crank up my car and roll out of the parking lot, merging into traffic with the slew of strangers all living super complex lives probably similar to mine. Turning up the volume to an upbeat song, I don't allow myself to dwell any longer. There's just too much to be grateful for and I've got to show appreciation for the things that are going well. In just under seven hours my virtual shop will be officially open for business with or without a man.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
-
~~~
We got a new male and female prospect now. How y'all feeling? Be sure to vote <3
Next update coming soon.