Steven nodded like he’d already anticipated it. “Right. First property has a sunroom extension, might work.”
We drove in silence for a bit. I listened. Harlan’s wife wasn’t here, but her presence was loud in the requirements. High ceilings, open flooring, nothing too “cluttered” or “tight.” He said the last place they'd visited elsewhere had weird columns breaking the flow of the room, and she'd refused to even walk past the front door.
We pulled up to the first apartment building, sleek, clean, and way too perfect. Like someone had filtered it on i********: and hit "publish."
Inside, the marble floors glared back at us, and every corner smelled faintly like new paint and lemon-scented polish. Steven jumped into his script.
“Three bedrooms, two baths, full eastern exposure in the extra
