Chapter One
Krista Hartley parked her car in the Oak Landing Apartments visitor center and then clutched the classified section of a newspaper in her hand. She re-read the apartment-for-rent listing and smiled at the purple Sharpie happy face she drew beside it. The three-story building stood several yards back from the parking lot in the middle of a well-kept yard with a smaller building off to the side. A few houses shared the beautiful, tree-lined street in one of the safer residential suburbs of Seattle, Washington.
The other apartment complexes she visited that morning left a bad taste in her mouth. One of the managers she spoke to flat out refused to rent to a young, single woman and the other two managers eyed her as though she’d walked into their office dressed in nothing but a hot pink g-string with a whip in her hand.
She tossed the classifieds on the passenger seat of her adorable lime green Volkswagen Bug and considered going home. She’d moved back in with her parents five months before after her live-in boyfriend cheated on her and then kicked her out of the apartment they shared. Her disappointed parents treated her like a child—even though she turned twenty-one last April—and they demanded she adhere to a strict ten o’clock curfew since she lived under their roof.
Krista rubbed her hands together. The heat evaporated in the roomy compartment of her car as she debated on her plan of action. Her parents didn’t want her to move out and she knew they’d smile smugly at her if she returned home with her tail tucked between her legs.
She bristled as she grabbed a folder from beneath the classifieds. She’d stopped by the public library that morning and printed off several copies of last year’s W-2, six months worth of paystubs from her job at a local bank, her most recent drug test results the bank required on a yearly basis and her college transcript. She’d separated all the documents, fastened them together in groups with a paper clip and then stored the bundled pages in a crisp manila folder.
No one beat Krista in the anal department.
She withdrew a stack of paperwork and then dropped the folder back on the seat. She exited the car, smoothed her hands down her pleated slacks and straightened her fancy red leather jacket over her sweater. A cold breeze pushed her dark brown hair over her shoulders, her teeth chattered and she wrapped her arms around her chest to ward off the cold.
Krista hurried across the asphalt parking lot and then down the sidewalk that cut through the yard to the office. Thick, beautiful Lambs Ear surrounded by dark mulch, lined the walk. The hearty green plants thrived well in the winter months with proper care and someone obviously cared meticulously for her favorite plants. Two trimmed Azalea bushes with thick piles of mulch around their bases stood guard on either side of the office door. Her mother passed her green thumb to Krista and, if the landlord accepted her application, Krista wanted to speak with the groundskeeper about helping him or her care for the plants next spring.
A neon Open sign hung in the window that faced the parking lot and a small plastic sign dangled from the doorknob that read, Come on In. Krista knocked first, opened the door and then a rush of dry heat assailed her as she stepped inside.
She inwardly cringed as she glanced around the small, cluttered office. Two windows faced the street, another faced the apartments and a fourth faced a row of tall evergreen trees that served as a border with a neighboring house. A fake but beautifully-decorated Christmas tree stood to one side of the door in the corner while a coat rack and radiator occupied the other side. File cabinets lined one brown-paneled wall, bookcases full of property-management binders lined another and a table topped with a mini fridge, a microwave and boxes of nonperishable food lined the far wall between two closed doors.
Smaller than she expected, the office appeared to only encompass half the building. She assumed the two doors on the far wall led to the restroom and perhaps a storeroom.
A brunette woman with fine gray streaks in her hair sat behind an old desk as she typed away on a computer keyboard. Krista waited for the woman to acknowledge her but the seconds turned into a minute and then a rise of heat pinked Krista’s skin. She coughed to clear her throat and that got the landlady’s attention.
“Oh dear. Hi.” The woman stood and blush darkened her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Have you waited long? I’m in the middle of a background check for a possible tenant and the entire world just seems to fade away as I work.”
Krista arched a brow. “No, ma’am. I haven’t waited long.” She approached the desk and offered the woman her hand. “Hi, I’m Krista Hartley. I’m here to see about the apartment, if it’s not already taken.”
She shook her hand. “Eileen Weston. Call me, Eileen.” She picked a few sheets of paper off her desk and waved them around in the air. “Between you and me, though, this renter here won’t get it. I learned a while ago to not rent to anyone with a criminal record.” She tossed the application in a nearby trashcan.
That lifted Krista’s spirits. She hadn’t leased the apartment yet plus she didn’t rent to possible troublemakers.
Eileen returned to her chair. “Have a seat, Ms. Hartley.”
“Krista, please. Thank you.” She sat in a comfortable chair in front of the desk, dropped her purse by her feet and twisted her ankles together as a nervous tremor shot up her legs.
“I listed the apartment a few days ago and you’re the fifth person to come by. I require a fifty dollar application fee upfront to pay for a background, criminal and credit check. The fee is nonrefundable. If that checks out, I’ll call you and set up a meeting. The deposit is three hundred but I refund it if the apartment is in good shape when you decide to move out. I’ll go through the contract with you and, if everything sounds good to you, we’ll seal the deal.” She handed Krista her business card. “I accept cash, check and money order, whichever is easier for you.”
She nodded and accepted the card. Krista expected the other landlords she met to mention fees, background checks and deposits but they didn’t. Eileen Weston seemed on the up-and-up.
“Rent is eight hundred dollars, due at the first of the month. Utilities are included but only the basics—heat, lights and water. Feel free to call up a cable provider for a thousand channels and high speed Internet.” Eileen handed her a form attached to a wooden clipboard. “Where do you work? How many people do you intend to live with you? The apartment is a one bedroom only starter home so fire codes regulate only two people per dwelling.”
She swallowed hard. “I work part-time at a bank but it pays well. I definitely earn enough to cover the cost of rent.” Krista handed over her personal information and quickly explained each set of documents. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks as Eileen’s eyes widened. “I’m not sure if you need this but I’m just a thorough person.”
Eileen pulled a pair of glasses off the top of her head and situated them down on her nose. She flipped through a few pages and smiled. “I like it when potential renters are prepared.”
The redness faded and she breathed in relief. “Oh, and it’s just me,” she added before she forgot about Eileen’s second question. “I shared an apartment with a friend a few months ago but things didn’t work out between us so I moved back home with my parents. Now, I feel as though it’s time I return to the real world.” Not about to say her friend was her boyfriend, she didn’t want to appear like a drama queen. Besides, it was too personal.
“My son went through the same thing. He went away to college, found an apartment with a few roommates but then he dropped out and left his beloved bachelor pad to help me with the family business.” Sadness filled Eileen’s blue eyes as she stared out the window that overlooked the three-story building.
Krista bit her lip. She didn’t know if she should ask why her son needed to help with the apartments. She didn’t want to appear too pushy or nosy and yet she didn’t want to seem rude.
“You know, why don’t I show you the apartment? I’d hate it if you didn’t like the place and then all this is a waste of time.”
Krista sighed. “That’ll be great.” No longer on the spot, she grabbed her purse, kept the clipboard and pen with her and followed Eileen to the door. The landlady shrugged into her fur-lined, gray parka, pulled the hood up over her head and grabbed her purse.
Krista took a deep breath of the fresh afternoon air as soon as they left. The cool air felt so good after the sauna-like office. She kept pace a few steps behind Eileen as they hurried down the sidewalk. More Lambs Ear lined the path and various bushes bordered the apartments.
“As you can tell the building is divided in half,” Eileen began. “There are twelve units total, six on each side and four per level, and a metal staircase connects each level. The groundskeeper and assistant manager lives there.” She pointed at U1, or unit one, on the ground floor. “His hours are listed on the door. If I’m not around, he’s the one you go to if you need anything.”
“Don’t you live here?”
Eileen shook her head. “I live a few miles away but I’m here every Monday through Friday from nine to five and on the weekends if I need to rent an apartment. So I’ll be here tomorrow and Sunday at those hours.” She climbed the wide metal stairs that led to the second story. “Here we are: unit seven.” Eileen dug a cluttered key ring from her pocket, then flipped through several brass and steel keys until she found the right one. She propped open the screen door with her hip, unlocked the main door and then stepped aside so Krista could enter first.
A smile spread across Krista’s face. “Wow, it’s nice.” And small, she declined to add. A chill clung to the air and she didn’t know why she expected to view a heated apartment. She saw an electrical baseboard heater in the living room, sliding glass doors on the far wall led to a small balcony that overlooked the parking lot and street. Not fond of the drab beige walls, she’d likely decorate with abstract paintings, a few shelves and she might even tack up a few scarves on the walls to add splashes of needed color. She’d definitely buy a funky Home Sweet Home sign at the craft show where she shared a booth every weekend. Her friend, Annie, created beautiful works of art out of old weathered wood and sold them for a reasonable price.
The living room connected with a tiny dining room that could probably hold a bistro table, two chairs and nothing else. A narrow, U-shaped kitchen branched off from the dining room. Although she liked the cabinets and overall U design, the sink, stove and fridge took away needed counter space. She loved to bake and hoped she could manage in the cramped kitchen.
She walked down the carpeted hall that branched out from the living room. She loved the spotless, white-tiled bathroom and stand-up shower stall—it lacked a bathtub but she never took a bath anyway—and the bedroom with its walk-in closet was larger than she’d expected. Krista sighed in relief when she noticed another baseboard heater in the bedroom. She pulled back a pair of louvered doors in the hallway and found a stacked washer and dryer unit.
She returned to the dining room where Eileen waited. “I noticed there’s a bookcase in the bedroom and that chair.” She pointed to a low, ugly brown chair in the living room. “Does that come with the place?”
Eileen pushed the hood of her parka off her head and rubbed her hands together. “The last tenants left it. If you lease the apartment, it’s yours to keep or get rid of. Your choice.”
Though she didn’t want to keep them, she knew she probably would. She needed as many hand-me-downs as possible since the only furniture she owned was her bedroom suite.
“I definitely want to lease this place.” Krista tightened her grip on the clipboard.
“Wonderful. I’ll call you Sunday or Monday if the background check works out.”
“That’s fine but I attend a craft fair on the weekends and I’m at the bank on Monday. I’ll probably miss your call. Would it be okay if I called you back?” She didn’t want Eileen to think she changed her mind and decided to blow off her call.
“Sure. The office number and my cell phone number are on the card. If I don’t pick up at the office, call the cell phone.” She then patted at her chest as though she felt for something beneath her clothes. “Which craft fair?”
“The Farmer’s Christmas Market at the McLaren Center. Have you heard of it?”
“Oh yes.” She laughed softly. “I stopped there a few weeks ago. You never know what you’ll find.”
“So true.”
Grateful she didn’t have to ask her parents for a loan—they wouldn’t agree to it even if she asked—she wanted to lease this apartment on her own like an adult, not like a kid who wanted to play grown-up. Other than her monthly car payment and student loans, plus the gas she bought on a weekly basis and the yearly bill for her car insurance, she’d saved a lot of money in the past few months since she lived with her parents, ate their food and used their toiletries.
She sat down in the upholstered brown chair, filled out the application and then withdrew a fifty dollar bill from her wallet for the application fee. She handed the money and clipboard to Eileen. The landlady pulled a receipt book from her purse, scribbled down the transaction and then handed Krista the carbon copy.
Krista walked across the living room and stared out the glass doors as Eileen read over the application. She twiddled with a pull string on the parted plastic blinds and then movement outside caught her attention. A man carried a huge plastic tote as he exited the office and headed toward the apartments. He dropped the tote by the row of trimmed bushes that bordered the building and appeared frustrated as he pulled out several strands of tangled Christmas lights. Dressed in a denim jacket covered in patches, faded jeans and boots, brown hair poked out of his beanie and whiskers shadowed his cheeks and strong chin.
“Oh my God. Is that Derek Weston?” She pressed her face to the glass for a better look.
“You know my son?” Eileen stood beside her and peered out the door.
Krista stepped back and sputtered. “Your son?” She knew Derek’s parents owned an apartment building somewhere in Seattle and she thought Eileen’s last name sounded familiar but the connection slipped her mind. “Yes, Derek and I went to high school together. I last saw him at graduation.”
“He’s the groundskeeper. Why don’t we go down and say hi?”
She blushed and fervently shook her head. “I doubt he’ll remember me. We shared a few classes but we didn’t talk much.” He barely noticed her. She watched as he untangled the lights and felt the same old hurt she always felt when she thought about him—alone, invisible and not good enough, or rather bad enough. Derek liked bad girls and her squeaky clean reputation kept her off his radar. He picked up the tote and headed around the building out of her sight.
“Do you have any questions about the apartment?”
Krista blinked several times to focus on the conversation. “Questions? No, well, I’m sure I’ll think of a few after I leave but I don’t have any right now.”
“Okay.” Eileen gestured to the door. “I’ll show you out.”
Krista glanced around the apartment one last time. Located in a clean neighborhood, about thirty minutes from the bank and close enough to Seattle that she could still enjoy the libraries and museums, she preferred this apartment to the others she researched on the Internet, and drew a happy face next to the listing.
She considered tearing up the application but she refused to act so immature. Derek might be the unrequited love of her life, but he didn’t know she’d ever felt anything for him. That was her fault. She should have strutted her stuff in the school hallway, pushed him against the lockers and kissed him right on the mouth for everyone to see. Unfortunately, cowardice ran deep in her veins then and still did. Not that she could push him against the brick wall outside and kiss him now, especially with his mother at her side, but she could at least say hi to him. What would be the harm in that?
Ohh, she could list at least a dozen reasons to answer that question.
Besides, she couldn’t find any other available apartments in her price range that felt comfortable and safe. It was here or nowhere.
Krista shook Eileen’s hand after they’d walked down the stairs. “It was great to meet you, ma’am. I look forward to your call.” Krista smiled and walked away.
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