"Slow Burn"
Chapter 1
The 19th Century brownstone at 1626 Prospect Street had much to recommend it; sandwiched between a delicatessen and a dry cleaners, it was within walking distance of the Georgetown campus. According to the conversant real estate agent at her elbow, the garden flight, 1626-G, had been freshly plastered and painted throughout. Making the best use of limited space, there were two small bedrooms, a bath and a half, an efficiency kitchen and a large parlor which opened onto a private entrance. Like the three apartments above it, it boasted a working fireplace. The realtor sighed when he thought of a blazing hearth and the comfort of his hands stretched to the flames. In a muddled British accent he asked, "Have you seen enough?"
She walked past him, ignoring his inquiry, framing one of her own. "How many square feet did you say?"
Richard Russell, owner and operator of Double ‘R' Realty of DC, chafed his gloved hands together for warmth. "Nine hundred and seventy square feet, crown molding throughout, hardwood floors, brass fixtures..."
"But it's small...cramped."
"The architect made excellent use of nine hundred and seventy square feet, Madam, that's practically a thousand, Miss --"
"Pappas," she replied, two syllables of soft Southern lilting on the brisk winter breeze. It was the third time she'd told him her name. "And the rental?"
"A bargain at just over $115 a month, without utilities. Of course, you understand that the current tenants hold a lease through the month of February, with an option to renew." Miss Pappas turned on her well shod heels to face him and for the second time since she walked into his office that morning, he marveled at the finely-chiseled features and the blue eyes divided by a long, aquiline nose. "Beg pardon? I'm sorry, did you say something?"
She appeared slightly flustered. "Whose option to renew? Can somethin' be done to stop it?"
Russell cleared his throat and stroked his pencil-thin mustaches. "This is a prime bit of real estate, Miss Pappas, central to downtown DC, minutes from the Georgetown campus. I may have mentioned that both tenants are affiliated with the university. I fully expect them to sign a one year lease when -- "
"But you could raise the rental if you chose." Her eyes swept the height of the building, lingering over the red brick facade before returning to settle on Russell's bulbous, new potato nose. "It is, as you say, a prime bit of real estate after all, easily worth twice what you're chargin' for it. I know these are hard times, Mr. Russell, what with the War an' all, and while it's admirable that you give the young and strugglin' every consideration, it must also be said that charity begins at home."
Russell pinched the flesh of his cheeks between his molars. "Meaning?"
"Meanin' it would be a shame for your company not to reap adequate rewards for the exquisite upkeep and happy geographical circumstances of this glorious old buildin'...don't you think?"
Russell pulled at his mustache as he considered her words. "Indeed. I have been remiss. A lodging as fine as this...well, I couldn't let it go for less than...$200 a month? Unfurnished."
"Now that is a figure worthy of you, Mr. Russell." She smiled, showing a little too much canine to be taken seriously. "Two year lease, first year paid in advance?" She offered him her hand, sleek and warm in her calfskin gloves.
He did not hesitate to enfold her hand in his own. "Agreed, Miss Pappas. I will serve notice of the rent increase immediately. The tenants can't possibly meet the demand. I don't foresee a problem." He turned and escorted her to the black sedan parked at the curb, his hand at her elbow as they walked the icy-slick pavement. They shared a conspiratorial chuckle before he kissed her hand in cavalier fashion. His lips brushed hard lumps of stone beneath her glove and he smiled furtively into the fabric. "You have my card."
She patted her black leather clutch. "Yes, I have your number." He fumbled with the heavy rear door of the sedan and she let him assist her into the warm interior. "Thank you for seein' me, Mr. Russell. I'll be in touch." He murmured a reply lost on the wind and shut the door. She did not turn to look back at him as the car sped away from the curb.
"Where to, M'am?" The driver's accent was a darker mirror of her own.
She tugged at the fingers of her gloves and frowned at the gray sky outside her window. "The hotel, Lucius. I believe it's gonna snow."
END CHAPTER 1