Disclaimer: Whenever you see this little * shit, that means there'll be a warning of some sort. Usually it means great sex. Enjoy the book!
I held onto my trench coat in the chilly New York weather. Standing in front of the building, I grasped the news paper tightly between my fingers. My exposed wrist felt the slap of the cold wind, so I tugged at the material of my leather glove.
Walking inside the building, I had a particular liking to it. The foyer was old, the staircase being that of which you'd see in the Gilded Age. At the base of the railing were ornate carvings of floral details. The detailed wallpaper of the hallway was old, but you could imagine a time when it was vivid with life and color.
Walking up the dark wooden steps, I made my way to the second floor. No one seemed to be standing on the landing, in fact it was so quiet I figured the building was empty. Glimpsing down at my newspaper clipping,
I checked the door number once more before cautiously opening the door.
On the other side of the door was a wonderful apartment. Two studio windows allowed much light to pour inside. In the corner a small kitchenette with another small window over the sink stood. The living room was pretty spacious, but I figured it only looked large because there was yet to be furniture.
I looked toward the area of the apartment where the three bedroom doors were, along with an entrance to a bathroom. The ambiance of the apartment made me feel right at home. I couldn't believe my eyes.
Looking down at the paper, I had to double check to see if I was truly in the right place. The apartment was so spacious, I couldn't believe it was only $49 a month.
I walked to one area of the room and imagined where I'd put a comfy desk with a type writer on top. This apartment was so beautiful I'd have all the inspiration in the world to write my works. And then I turned around and walked toward the kitchen, and imagined the meals I'd make myself. Walking to the dated stove, I touched the tip of my leather glove to it. Did this thing need wood?
Finally I decided to walk away from the kitchenette toward the bedrooms. Leisurely I walked into one. A window toward the right of the room let out light. From it you could almost see a view of the kitchen window diagonally from outside. My heels clicked on the wooden floor toward the next bedroom.
As I opened the door, I quickly jumped at the sight of a man standing there. His back was turned to me, he stood with his hands pressed into the pockets of his coat. He turned around toward me, his blue eyes looking into mine. I was immediately taken by his handsome appearance, his curly hair and strong jaw. But most of all, his ice blue eyes.
"Oh, I'm sorry if I intruded. I didn't realize anyone else was here." I lifted up a hand. Then I looked over my shoulder. "Is the landlord here?"
The man smirked. He must've even in his early 20s. Warmly with his hands still in his pockets, he stepped toward me. "I'm not sure, he was here a moment ago."
I nodded, clasping my hands together.
"But I don't think there's anyway you could be an intrusion on me." He grinned. He had a demeanor about him that made him seem easy-going and lovable, however that is not why I was there.
"I've come for an apartment, not to be wooed by someone with the likes of you." I walked toward a studio window in the bedroom that out looked the street below.
Now the man stood behind me, he huffed at my comment. "The likes of me? What exactly is that supposed to mean, may I ask?"
"Oh, I see men like you all the time. Smooth as ever and looking for something different. People like you and I simply don't work." I told him casually as I looked out the window.
"And I'm guessing you're bringing this up because you're negro and I'm white." He said as he looked at the back of my head.
"Why else?" I turned around to him.
"I can promise you, I'm an upstanding guy." The blue-eyed looker placed a hand on his chest, raising his eyebrows so convincingly.
"I'm sure you are." I said in a dismissive tone.
"By the way, I'm Paul Newman." He smiled, reaching out a hand for me to shake.
"Nice to meet you, Paul Newman." I looked down at his hand, then strutted past him back into the living room. He whistled slowly, combing his rejected hand through his curly hair.
As I walked back into the living room, there stood another young man. He was especially attractive. His brown hair was combed back in waves, and underneath his trench coat her wore a dark sweater and a collared shirt underneath it. He was well put together, except the sneaker shoes he wore contradicted his outfit.
I stood there staring for a moment, and then I brought myself to say something. "Are you the landlord?"
"No, I'm looking at the apartment." The young man said, chewing gum as he looking up at the crown molding toward the ceiling. His hands were in the pockets of his coat. "It's an ice box in here, isn't it?"
His eyes got a good look at me, and something about his demeanor switched. It was the kind of aura I quickly rejected from the other one. He walked toward me with a grin. He stood a few feet away, his eyes looking me up and down as he playfully rubbed his chin.
I tried to look another way, but he wouldn't quit looking. "You know, I don't come with the apartment."
"Wouldn't it be a pleasure if you did?" He smirked, lowering his chin as he looked at me.
"Is that your friend in the next room? You and him seem to share the same bad manners." I lifted my chin, glaring at him directly in the eye.
"I only have one friend, kitten, and he just moved back to the Midwest." The stranger clapped his hands in front of him. "So whatever fella you're talking about, it doesn't have anything to do with me."
"I would prefer it if you wouldn't call me 'kitten'." I corrected him. The moment when the landlord would arrive couldn't come soon enough in my mind. It felt like a lifetime.
"I apologize if I'm acting crass, but you're beautiful." The brown haired boy rose his eyebrows. "And you know, it would be an honor if I could prove what a gentleman I really am by taking you out to eat. Or maybe I can cook you something up in this apartment right here, I'm told I'm quite the chef."
"There's nothing you can cook me up in this apartment because I'm going to rent it." I told him boldly. "And once I do you will have no part in that."
"Ouch." He held his chest as if I shot an arrow at him. "Well we'll just see about that. I really like the place and I don't mind paying a little more for it."
"Paying a little more? You can't even afford proper shoes." I referred to his sneakers.
He looked down at his feet then back up at me. "What? These? I just like to wear these because they're comfortable."
"Either way, I'm a professional." I was sure to inform him. "Do not let my color or gender fool you, I make my own."
"As do I." He nodded his head with a lifted eyebrow. "You don't recognize me?"
I stared at the annoying man. "Should I?" I snapped.
"Hey, I know you." Tweedle Dum emerged from the bedroom and now joined Tweedle Dee. "You're the one from that film... oh what was the name?"
"A Streetcar Named Desire." The wavy haired stranger answered.
I looked to him with risen eyebrows and crossed arms. "So you're a film star?"
"Is that so hard to believe?" He smiled, adjusting the lapels to his trench.
"I'm Paul Newman." The other stranger smiled as he held out a hand. "I'm a student at the Actor's Workshop."
"Marlon Brando." The wavy haired boy answered back smoothly. Then, his eyes squinted as they looked to me. "Am I still a degenerate to you?"
"Maybe not a degenerate." I said sarcastically. "But I still haven't developed a liking for you."
"I promise I can change that." Marlon continued to persist on making passes at me.
"Oh, don't think about trying with that one." Paul laughed as he placed a hand on his new friend. Marlon gave him a cold stare as Paul's palm touched his shoulder. Paul withdrew his touch. "She doesn't dig anything interethnic.
"That's too bad." Marlon said to Paul, but not once did he break eye contact with me.
Suddenly we were interrupted by someone else entering the apartment. It was an older man who had a patch on top of his head where hair was totally absent. In his hand he held a bunch of keys. "Gosh, I thought I locked this place up."
"For the love of God." I mumbled under my breath, then I spoke up. "Are you the landlord."
"I sure am." The man adjusted his thick rimmed glasses. He stood there and took a good look at each one of us. We all seemed to come from different places, none of us matched each other. "Are you all renting together?"
All at once, we all began to answer.
"I'm just looking because you see, I really need a place to live near the Workshop." Paul spoke with a smile.
"No, I am not with these two men at all, I arrived here on my own..." I waved my hands.
"You know, I came on my own but I wouldn't mind getting to know a person or two..." Marlon mumbled with a grin.
Since we all spoke at once, the landlord stood there confused and quiet. Then he just clumsily shrugged and walked toward us. "Well anyway, I'm Mr. Green and if you do decide to rent I take care of all utilities, gas, heat you name it."
"Well, I absolutely love the apartment." I spoke, Mr. Green smiled warmly. "And I'll be absolutely willing to pay the $49 a month for rent."
Mr. Green nodded, then he shook his head. "Who said anything about $49 a month? It's $99!"
"Wait... it's $99 a month?" Paul asked, his eyes filling with panic.
"But, Mr. Green..." I cried out, handing him my newspaper clipping. "It said in your newspaper ad it was $49 a month."
The old man squinted at the small writing of the paper. Then he held it up to the light, staring at the words. "That must've when a typo. You know, I thought something was wrong when she gave me the sample... I really need new glasses."
"And I need a place to stay!" Paul wiped his hand over his face.
"Mr. Green, you gotta admit it's a little steep." Marlon furrowed his eyebrows. "If you're willing to go down to even $70 I'd be willing to pay."
"I have a mortgage to pay up in Westchester." Mr. Green insisted. "I need this apartment rented out and for the price I'm asking!"
"Well, I'm sorry, I can't afford it." I shrugged as I began to walk toward the door. "And it's such a shame, because I really loved this apartment."
"And I loved the idea of entertaining you for a night in it." Marlon added as he followed behind me toward the door. I ignored that comment.
"Wait!" Paul shouted out. Both of us stopped and turned toward him. I was over all of these antics, I stood with my arms across over my chest and my hip to the side. Marlon stood closely in my vicinity.
Paul walked over to the both of us. "I have a wild idea."
"And why would I care about your wild idea?" I asked him.
"No, really! There's a way for us all to say here. If all three of us pitch in the rent, we'll be able to say easily!" Paul smiled at the both of us.
"Are you forgetting the fact that we don't know each other? Suppose one of us is nuts!" I whisper-shouted at Paul.
"The only thing that's making me nuts is the way you look today." Marlon flirted once again.
"You're full of it." I rolled my eyes at his cheesy pickup line.
"You both look like fine people." Paul said. "And let's face it, this is one of the loneliest cities in the world. It's not like we'll find anyone else to rent with."
"I can do it all on my own." I insisted, walking toward the door.
"Come on, why don't you give it a shot? If it goes bust you'll just move out..." Marlon shrugged.
"Or one of us can even move out!" Paul added. Marlon gave him a glare after that suggestion. Standing in the doorway, I looked to the two boys.
Then I walked back to him and held out a hand. Happily they both grabbed my hand as we all shook our hands together. I laughed at their silliness.
"But we'll live decently if we live together." I pointed a finger. "I was raised well... and there will be standards."
"Of course, standards..." Paul placed a hand on his chest.
"Only the best of standards!" Marlon gave me a slight bow.
"In all my years I never thought I'd see something like this." Mr. Green shook his head. "But I'm positive all of you can pay."
He walked over the kitchen and out of a drawer he got out a blank form. "Come on over and sign the lease if you want the apartment."
Paul and I began to walk over, but Marlon grasped my arm. "What's your name?"
"Adele Miller." I pulled my arm out of his grip. "And you'd better behave if we'll be rooming."
"My word of honor." Marlon lifted a hand.