novelxo Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR–A NEW ROOMMATE
The next few days blurred together in a dizzying haze of online listings, frantic phone calls to friends, and an endless merry–go–round of apartment viewings.
After repeated dead–ends and let–downs, each place seemed to come with a catches – out of her price range, or months–long waiting lists, or located in sketchy areas.
Not to mention the impact this was all having on her art career. Important exhibitions and gallery. openings loomed on the horizon – she needed to find a new home base, a private sanctuary to nurture her creativity and build her next collection.
Claire’s place was comfortable, but it simply couldn’t serve as the sort of focused, inspirational environment Jasmine craved.
She tried not to be ungrateful, reminding herself of how far she’d already come after hitting rock bottom last year.
With relentless determination, Jasmine rebuilt herself from the ashes of her failed marriage into a self- assured, blossoming artist carving her niche. But now, with her home and studio gone, she felt unmoored and unraveled once more.
“Any luck with those new listings today?” Claire asked one evening, poking her head into the guest bedroom where Jasmine spent each night huddled over her laptop.
Jasmine sighed, raking her hands through her tousled hair in frustration. “A few possibilities, but they all came with catches. Wait lists, or in some really sketchy areas, or just way too far from all the galleries.
Claire frowned sympathetically. “Yeah, I can see why that would be a problem for you. Hauling all your supplies and canvases back and forth has got to be a nightmare.”
Jasmine nodded wearily. “Exactly. And the really nice places closer to the arts district are just way out of my budget right now.”
She worried her lip, anxiety gnawing at her. “I don’t know, Claire…maybe I should just bite the bullet and go with one of those faraway listings for how? Just until I can get back on my feet financially after…”
She trailed off, unable to give voice to the upheaval that had robbed her of home, career stability, and nearly every last remnant of her once vital creative spark. Claire seemed to sense her unvoiced turmoil and reached over, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.
“Hey, enough of that, okay? We’ll figure this out – I promise. In the meantime, you’re not going anywhere. My door is always open to you, Jas.”
Claire’s warm reassurance was like a salve on Jasmine’s jangled nerves. She managed a wavering smile. You’re the best, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m amazing.” Claire laughed, rising from the bed with a wink. “I’ll let you get back to the listing grind. But don’t stay up too late stressing, yeah? We’ve got my little guy’s birthday party to prep for this weekend, remember?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jasmine replied, momentarily brightening at the thought of celebrating her young nephew’s special day. Perhaps joyful occasion was exactly what she needed to reset her perspective.
With a final parting smile, Claire ducked out of the bedroom, leaving Jasmine alone once more amidst the soft glow of her laptop screen. She resumed scrolling through the overwhelming sea of rental listings, periodically jotting down notes about amenities, costs, and locations that seemed like a possibility.
Her eyes gradually grew heavy, burning from straining at the flickering monitor for hours on end. Jasmine was just resignedly closing out of her most recently viewed dud – a dingy housing unit with a shared bathroom down the hall when one particular post made her pause.
“Huh…that’s odd.”
The listing seemed pretty standard at first – spacious open floor plan, brand new luxury building in the heart of Downtown Manhattan. All relatively pedestrian, until Jasmine’s gaze flickered to the very last line:
One bedroom SHARED with existing tenant. Short–term lease options available.
She blinked, rereading it again just to be sure her exhausted eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. No, clearly written there in bold print. This was…a roommate situation?
it was
Jasmine’s brow furrowed as she quickly scanned the rest of the details. The location was essentially ideal – just a few blocks away from all the trendy galleries and arts spaces she frequented.
Close enough for her to easily get around on foot, a luxury she’d sorely missed when viewing those far- flung outer borough listings.
And the pricing…well, it was still on the higher side, but split between two people it was certainly more manageable than trying to cover the full rent herself right now. Particularly on an artist’s limited budget while she struggled to get back on her feet.
There were no additional details provided about this “existing tenant” who would be her roommate.
But trying to source out potentially troubling traits or red flags seemed an exercise in futility with so little information given. It could truly be anyone from a studious, quiet bookworm to a rambunctious college partygoer.
Jasmine worried her lip, the cons and pros battling waged in her head. On one hand, the very notion of having to share an intimate living space with a total stranger made trepidation slither through her belly.
After the private emotional turmoil of the past year, sheltering in the comforting solitude of her own refuge was a need bordering on primal.
But then, in her current precarious situation…did she really have any other choice?
The more Jasmine pondered it, the more the idea burrowed into her thoughts like a persistent insect.
This place ticked so many boxes for her – affordability, proximity to her preferred art scene, brand new and undoubtedly far nicer than her last soot–choked apartment.
Jasmine took a steadying breath as she pressed the call button for apartment BG, her duffel strap clutched tightly in one hand. This was it her first face–to–face encounter with her prospective new
roommate
Part of her still couldn’t quite believe she was going through with this unusual living situation. But after a week of fruitless searching and dead ends, dejection and despair had ultimately won out over her initial apprehension.
This place seemed to check all the necessary boxes for location, affordability, and basic amenities. She could make it work…couldn’t she?
The muffled sound of several locks turning from within made Jasmine tense involuntarily. Finally, the door swung inward to reveal…
“You must be Jasmine! Wonderful, simply wonderful to meet you at last!”
…the most eccentric looking man she’d ever laid eyes upon. He was slim and wiry, with a mop of graying chestnut hair sticking up in frazzled tufts. Intense green eyes peered out from behind a pair of thick,
amber–tinted glasses that dominated his birdlike features.
And he was clad in…well, Jasmine could only describe his ensemble as “nutty professor chic” – a mustard yellow sweater–vest, maroon bowtie, and khaki shorts that stopped just below his bony knees.
“I’m Gary! Gary Wilkins, pleased as punch to make your acquaintance!” The peculiar little man thrust cut a hand, practically vibrating with an intensity that made Jasmine’s head spin slightly.
“Ah, y–yes, nice to meet you too…” She automatically reached out to return his enthusiastic handshake, her grip feeling limp and clammy in comparison.
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