Page 57 of Between Takes
Chapter Twenty
Four flat viewings later, I was reconsidering my agreement to this farce. Shaun stood in the centre of a stunning kitchen/lounge while an agent rattled off a list of features. Most of it I didn’t need. What twenty-five-year-old actually needed smart lighting?
“You’re not listening to me, Shaun,” I repeated for the fourth time. There might have been a tinge of exasperation in my tone. Alright, a lot. But I was tired and wasting my day off being dragged around flats I had no intention of renting.
“Of course I am. You said you hate your housemates, so we’re looking for a studio or a one-bed. This is perfect, don’t you think?” He flashed me that winning smile that charmed other people.
I had to admit, this place was beautiful, and if all I wanted to do with my life was pay rent and work at a job that gave me no joy, it would make a lovely home. But I wanted more. I might not have known what “more” was, but I knew it didn’t include a flat with a 180-degree view of the water and a flash smart-home system.
“It’s not right. I don’t even want to know what the monthly cost is.”
“Come on, Mona. It’s safe!”
“And my current place isn’t?”
“No! Have you seen the men loitering on the corner? There’s going to be a drug bust on your street any day now.”
“And I’ll ask again: Why do you care?”
“You work for me.” He stepped closer, his gaze flicking to the estate agent staring out the window. Dropping his voice, he said, “I care about you. Your safety is important!”
I ignored the meaningful hitch in his voice and focused on my indignation. “Sherry works for you. Did you inspect her living arrangements?”
“I didn’t have to.”
“No, you didn’t do it because she’d have paid you back by signing you on for some reality TV show.”
Shaun shuddered. “Don’t even joke about shit like that!” He scowled at me like I was tempting the universe. “This is ridiculous. I’ll give you a raise. Will that solve it?”
Horror snatched my words. My jaw worked, but I couldn’t produce any sound.
The agent’s head snapped back and forth between the two of us. “I’ve got a listing a couple streets over that might work?” he suggested, his tone kind but his eyes wide. I hoped Shaun had him sign an NDA. The chances of this guy selling all our secrets to the press increased by the minute.
“Does it have a bay view?” Shaun asked. The agent shook his head, his shoulders slumping. “Then definitely not.”
“Does it have any unnecessary appliances or features?” I asked, ignoring Shaun.
“No. It’s fitted to modern standards but not tech fitted.”
That piqued my interest. “Where does it sit on cost?”
“Mona, we’re not viewing it.” Shaun’s voice was clipped and his jaw clenched.
I ignored him and pressed the agent for an answer. When he quoted a figure at the top of my range, I almost kissed him.
“It’s perfect.”
“It’s not even remotely on that scale.”
It was a basic but lovely studio flat with a small kitchenette, an en-suite shower and a washing machine tucked into an airing cupboard. I’d need to rework the layout, but for a studio, it was a good size. It came furnished with a double bed, a loveseat, TV stand and coffee table. There were even lamps. I wouldn’t have to pay out for any furniture, which was a huge bonus for such a short let. And best of all, it had parking.
“When could I move in?” I asked the agent, ignoring the scowl on Shaun’s face.
Shaun scoffed. “You can’t be serious. The building is old.”
“It’s called character.”
“It’s called thin walls.”
