a book. Ian Kingston.”
Coco’s eyes opened wide. “Wow! The big guns.”
“The good news is that he doesn’t care how much he spends, the producers are paying for it. Any price. An apartment or house. But it has to be quiet. He wants to do some writing while he’s here. He’s working on a new book.”
“Any other particulars?”
“I would say something comfortable, male, quiet obviously, maybe near a park for the dog. They didn’t say it, but he sounds difficult. The producers called me. Kingston doesn’t want to be involved, but he expects us to get it right without even talking to him beforehand.”
“Christ, we have to be psychic with clients like that.”
“That’s your forte,” Leslie complimented her, “you always seem to know what they really want and aren’t telling us. Oh, and he wants a good kitchen. He likes to cook.”
“He sounds interesting.”
“And difficult. Spoiled, I suspect. He also wants a gym somewhere in the neighborhood. He’s forty-one.”
“Married? Girlfriend? Gay? Kids?” Coco knew all the right questions to ask now.
“They didn’t say. He sounds like something of a loner.” Leslie looked at the profile again, and another item caught her eye. “No kids in the building. Too noisy. He claims his dog never barks and sleeps all the time.” Coco nodded, and had jotted down some notes. The first thing she had to do was call realtors and find a location. A year would be easier than a few months. And house or apartment was good too. He didn’t seem to care how many rooms, as long as there was a good room for him to write, and a bedroom for him. The fancy kitchen might be harder.
After a week of endless calls to all her contacts, Coco had six places to see on a Friday. She had the authority to rent a place at her own discretion, which was an awesome responsibility.
She was meeting with three different realtors, one of whom she preferred. She had never lied to her, which many did, claiming attributes the apartment didn’t have and hiding flaws.
None of the places she saw felt right, until the last one. It was in a quiet residential street near a park. The house was owned, as an investment, by a Swiss couple who almost never came to London, and had kept the two top floors for themselves, and occasionally lent it to their son, who was a banker. They rented out the two lower floors, if they liked the tenant. The house was relatively small and well maintained. They had people who came regularly to check on it. There was a two-car garage no one used, and the entire apartment was sunny and faced south. On the main floor were a living and dining room of modest proportions, and a sizeable kitchen with state-of-the-art equipment.
“Their current tenant is a chef from Rome. He’s the star chef at Harry’s Bar. His father died, and he went home to run the family restaurant for a year for his mother. The kitchen equipment and all the furniture belong to him. He’s not letting the place go, but they’re allowing him to sublet it.” The kitchen definitely checked out for an amateur chef. There was a large dining table in it, so the tenant could use the dining room or kitchen to entertain. The dining room was wood-paneled and more formal, and both the living room and dining room had fireplaces.
On the second floor were a big bedroom, a small guest room, and a den which could be used as an office. It looked like the perfect lair for a writer. It had a warm, inviting feeling, with a fireplace and wood paneling. The décor was masculine, with big comfortable leather chairs and dark Persian rugs. There was a big well-appointed bathroom with shower and bath, another one with only a shower in the guest room, and a powder room downstairs for guests.
“Wow,” Coco said, looking at her, “it’s perfect. I’ll take it. I haven’t met the client, but it matches his profile perfectly.”
“It helps that the subletting tenant is a guy. Everything is the right proportion for a man to feel comfortable here and not confined.” She had done her job well, and Coco was thrilled.
“Is there a gym nearby?”
“Two blocks away. It’s expensive and fairly exclusive, but if the production company is paying, as you said, they may not care.”
“Perfect,” Coco said again. “I’ll take it.”
“First month’s rent, one-year lease, security deposit. They want five thousand in