"Are you sure this is the right apartment?" I asked the realtor after she'd told me the rent. "I mean, that sounds so low for such a great place."

She watched me take in the high ceilings, the beveled glass windows, and the rich, polished, wood floors. "The owner wants a renter who'll stay forever," she joked, nodding at me. "He wants someone who works steadily and will take good care of the place."

"Well, I'd sure do that." I ran my hand over the marble mantel above the fireplace. "Does the owner live here?"

"Yes. He's up in the attic room, which he's converted into living quarters. Mr. Sweeney travels extensively and is hardly ever at home. That's why he's concerned about getting a good renter in. There are currently two other women living in the apartment on the first floor. They've been here for several years. If you have any questions, I can refer you to them."

I smiled at the tall, thin woman. "No, that's fine. If my application is accepted, then I guess I'll take the place."

My heart jumped at those words. Finally, I was going to be on my own in a beautiful, second-floor apartment in a rambling, old, beautifully preserved Victorian house. I handed the realtor a check. "I think this takes care of the deposit and the first month's rent."

The realtor took it out of my hand, smiling broadly. "Yasmin, I know you're going to like it here. Mr. Sweeney will be getting in touch with you." Read More