It was a Windy Wednesday in February when…
…I got an email from a broker wondering if it would at all be possible to show my prewar Park Avenue classic six on Saturday to his client Mr. B who was interested in seeing the apartment before he flew back to LA early Sunday morning. The broker said he appreciated my discretion so I didn’t mention his celebrity buyer’s name to anyone except to my seller who along with Paloma her obese long-haired cat (who had a thing for me) had already moved to Sarasota. We’d made a significant price reduction after the election but unfortunately, it hadn’t generated an offer so I buried my lucky St. Joseph in the library and coincidentally received the request from Mr. B’s broker the next day. Although the building doesn’t permit Saturday showings and I had planned to go away for the holiday weekend I canceled my travel plans and tried to figure out which of my favorite Carrie Bradshaw shoes I would wear on my first date with Mr. B.
I got there a half hour early so I’d have plenty of time to turn on all the lights as the apartment faced a brick wall but five minutes before our appointment I had a sinking feeling that Mr. B was going to stand me up so I called his broker who said he was a block away and that Mr. B was already waiting in the lobby. When I opened the door I decided not to confess that I’d had a huge crush on him for years and I could hear Jamie in my head warning me not ask if we could take a selfie together but when Mr. B was attempting to FaceTime with his wife I considered surreptitiously pointing my phone in his direction and snapping a quick pic but decided not to risk being busted. I was super cool and never even let him know that I recognized him and knew he was a “Big” deal as he showed up incognito in a t-shirt and jeans and his hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.
Mr. B wanted his wife to see the apartment but since I had to be at a deposition I asked Tania to be my stand-in. Their broker never phoned to tell us of their verdict but fortunately the next day I got a call from a former Mr. X who had just sold his New York pied-a-terre and had a feeling that this Park Avenue apartment would be perfect for him and Mr. Y. Mr. X was waiting for me in the lobby, and although I too was early, I decided it didn’t matter that the lights weren’t on so we rode upstairs in the elevator together. It was love at first sight and Mr. X phoned Mr. Y to come over right away and shortly thereafter they made a strong all-cash offer. I told my seller that as a former Mr. X I could vouch that he was first class and a true star.
The irony is that when Mr. X and Mr. Y wanted to show the apartment to their mothers the following Sunday I was out and about in my comfy black Brunello Cucinelli sneakers and jeans and decided not to take time to change into my Sex and the City Manolos. I’m not sure if it was the price reduction, St. Joseph or simply that the stars were properly aligned but Mr. X and Mr. Y were awarded this year’s Park Avenue “Picture Perfect” Apartment which both the seller and I thought would be going to Mr. B, but as we all just saw, even Bonnie and Clyde can be surprised late at night by the “Moonlight”.