Whoever said apartment hunting was a walk in the park deserved to be taken outside and beaten with a stick. Repeatedly. 

"So tell me, Ms. Lovette, are you married?" 

Here we fucking go again. "No. Not married." Just stupid, apparently. I should have said yes. Yes, that I was married. Married and pregnant. Maybe that would have made this creep back off. 

This was my last option on the list of places I could afford to rent. It was a tiny studio that was being rented out privately by the owner. It barely had a kitchen, and the bathroom was... Yeah. This place shouldn't even be suitable to live in. 

"That's perfect," the creep said in an even creepier voice if that were possible. "I'm single myself. Maybe if you end up staying here, we can get to know each other better. Seeing as I will be doing routine checkups, of course." When he ran his eyes ran over my body, it took all my energy not to hurl. He glanced at the application form I filled out when I got here. "And regarding the lack of proof of income, I'm sure we can come up with—"

Yeah, I wasn't going to let him finish that sentence. I pulled my phone out of my pocket like it was vibrating. "Oh, sorry. I need to take this. I'm just going to step outside and answer it." 

Putting the phone to my ear, I walked outside and thanked God or whoever was responsible for keeping this man in the apartment. Once I breathed fresh French air again, I took off down the block until I got to the next street. 

While I made my way towards La Rose De Baguette, I tried to convince myself that this was still a good idea. That coming here—okay, running—to Paris was a reasonable way to cope with the unbearable grief that my mom was gone. It had to still be a good idea. Because if it wasn't, then I didn't know what the hell I was going to do. 

Going back to New York and my small circle of close friends who were probably freaking out because they loved me so much was something I wasn't ready for. The whole reason I came here was because the caring was just...too much. 

There was going to be a time and a place when I was going to actually need them. But that time and place wasn't going to be here until I stopped running and was able to catch my breath. Basically, never at this point. The added stress from the fact that I was probably going to be homeless in a foreign country didn't necessarily help with the whole breathing thing. If anything, it just made matters worse. 

But there was one upside to all this...the pastries at my now favorite cafe. Dealing with all of this stuff basically turned me into a stress eater. I barely looked at myself in the mirror anymore because I was terrified that I gained wait and looked fat now. That and I just didn't care what I looked like at this point. 

When I finally got to the cafe, I was relieved to see that my usual table was empty. When you go to the same place every day over a period of two weeks, sitting at the same table and ordering the same thing, you start settling into a routine. 

New routines. New habits. New Normals. 

And after my failed and awkward apartment hunting this morning, I could use a little of my new normal. 

The manager, Henri, that I've come to know walked up to my table a few minutes after I sat down. "Ms. Lovette, so good to see you again. Your usual order?" 

I returned his smile and realized it was the first time I smiled at all today. "Hey, Henri. Yes. My usual order please." He started to walk away and I held up my hand to stop him. "Actually, do you mind brining out the—"

"Both Danish's at once?"

I laughed. For the past two weeks I ordered one Danish and one cup coffee. Then I always ended up wanting another Danish and many refills of coffee. This really was my new normal if he could read me that well. "Yes, please." 

"Of course. Right away." 

After he disappeared back into the cafe, I pulled out my cell phone and started looking for more housing options. It was a longshot, a hail Mary that most likely wasn't going to work out. A good ten or fifteen minutes went by, and after looking for dozens of options, I found nothing. Absolutely nothing. As expected.

Everything was either too highly priced, or they wanted too much for a deposit. There was also the unfortunate necessity of having proof of income. I wonder if they would take proof of my savings account instead. Maybe I could just pay in advance for a few months?

"So sorry for the wait," Henri said when he came back with my order. "One of my regulars came in to pick up his take-out order and he can be quite the chatterbox sometimes."

For a split second, I thought he was being a little asshole-ish with that last part. Like he was annoyed at the customer for talking a lot. But the way his face lit up told me that Henri actually liked his regular customer.

I waved away his apology. "That's not a problem. And I can't blame your regular customer, either. Who couldn't love this place and come here every day? Your stuff is delicious."

Something about what I said made him laugh and his smile widened. "He doesn't just come here every day, mademoiselle. He comes a few times a day. This order was his first of many today, I'm sure. I highly doubt I would have a business without him."

Wow. If I tried to eat pastries multiple times a day, I would probably end up weighing as much as a house. This guy must have a super fast metabolism and an incredible sweet tooth.

"Oh, okay," I replied awkwardly. "I thought I came here a lot, but I guess this other customer is giving me a run for my money."

Another chuckle from Henri. "Indeed." He started to leave before he looked down at the screen of my cell phone that was still lit up. "I hope that this isn't inappropriate, but I couldn't help but notice that you might be looking for a place to stay here in Paris?"

I took a sip of my coffee and glared at my phone. "Oh, yeah. No luck unfortunately. I've been looking for a place to rent in this area but I think I might have to expand my search."

Expanding my search was another thing I didn't want to do. I was starting to become comfortable with this area. And the cafe. And I wasn't far from the Eiffel Tower.

Yeah, I liked being near the landmark because that's what my mom wanted to see more than anything else in the world, but I still haven't brought myself to actually go to it.

Henri pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "My customer that was here a few moments ago gave me some of these flyers to hand out."

He handed it to me and I read what was on it. 

"It is rather odd, being a warehouse, I know. But it's actually rather nice and it's not far from here. There' s a loft on the second floor that he is renting out."

According to the flyer, the loft came furnished with a queen sized bed, dresser, private bathroom, kitchenette, and TV.

"Wow. It actually doesn't sound horrible." I looked up at Henri. "And you know this guy? He's not like a creep or anything, right?"

I totally didn't need another creep inappropriately coming on to me. In fact, I didn't need anybody coming on to me. Creepily or otherwise.

"Oui. I've known him since he moved here. He's a good man. And the area is safe."

I wasn't sure about the idea of sharing a place with a man I didn't know. Especially considering it was a warehouse. That just seemed so odd to me. But I trusted Henri and I believed that he wouldn't send me to this guy unless he knew him well.

"Thank you," I said with a smile. "I'll contact him now and set it up. I really appreciate it."

Henri smiled and nodded. "Anything for one of my favorite customers, mademoiselle."

Once I was alone again, I looked over the flyer one more time. There was an email and local Paris phone number typed at the bottom. Too annoyed and stressed from what happened earlier today, I decided an email was the way to go. 

Good afternoon. I was wondering if you had availability later today for me to come and look at the loft for rent?

Short and sweet. Perfect. I hit send and started nibbling on my Danish while I waited for his reply. I just too the last bit of the first apple Danish when my phone went off. 

Sounds good. Any time after 3 today. Feel free to come one by. 

Well, there we go. Maybe this one would actually work out. But it was only a little after noon and I still had a couple hours until three. That wasn't a problem, though. That just meant I had more time for coffee. And Danish. 

New normals, you know?

***

Hey all! I will be posting the first chapter of my Pride novella Spin The Bottle later today! 🖤