Prince Charming arrived at the address 15 minutes late. There had been two unexpected detours that resulted in his tardiness: the first, a car chase which he just couldn't pass up. The second, a post-car chase string of selfies in front of the smoldering wreck, which he now mused might be considered by some to be in bad taste.

He regretted bringing his laptop, as it had been difficult to stop the car one-handed. Perhaps if he’d had both hands free, he could have prevented the pile-up.

He looked around the lobby for the man he had been emailing, but the only two people in the lobby were women, both standing near the elevators staring at their phones. 

One of these women — neither of whom looked pleased — must be mb1223. He did not think that 15 minutes deserved the pointed foot tapping of the left one or the irritated frown of the right. 

He walked up to them and addressed himself to the one wearing jeans.

“Hi, sorry I’m late. I had ‘defending the city detour.’”

“Oh, it’s all right,” the woman said, her eyes on a cell phone in her hands and her voice indicating that it was not all right. “I’ve been sending emails.”

“I was saving the city from evil.” Prince Charming tried to add some boom to his voice.

How had she not noticed who he was yet?

“Hm? That’s nice.” She still hadn’t looked at him. “Shall we?”

The other woman, who wore slacks and a jacket, said, “The apartment is on the forty-fifth floor. Let’s go.” She turned sharply and led them to the elevator bank. Used her phone to push the up button. 

“I should at least introduce myself,” Prince Charming said clearing his throat, “I’m guessing you are new to the city.”

Mb1223 snorted. “I grew up here. Why, are you from out of town?” She looked up at him.

The elevator bell dinged before he could answer with an emphatic “no!” and the realtor gestured them inside. The elevator doors closed. 

This was the sort of elevator that rose gracefully, the sort of elevator that knew its business and excelled at it. The elevator moved with poise and dignity.

“I’m Prince Charming,” he tried, unsuccessfully attempting to mirror the elevator’s poise and dignity. The realtor made a sort of choked noise, but by the time he glanced over at her her face was as smooth as the mirror behind her.

Now mb1223 actually looked at him. “Huh,” she said. The elevator alerted them to their arrival on the forty-fifth floor with a gentle ding. She shook her head once, roughly.  “You’re the only person who responded to the ad. Let’s go.”

The realtor led him down an opulent marbled hallway, her heels clacking with businesslike efficiency on the satisfying white floors. “It’s a corner apartment. Two walls of windows, you know?”

“Awesome,” he said.

“Hm.” Mb1223 said. It occurred to him that maybe he should not think of this person as “Mb1223” indefinitely. 

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked, as the realtor fumbled with the keys.

“Ah, Jemma.” She had her phone in her hands again and seemed to be texting frantically, so he followed the realtor inside, leaving Jemma in the hallway. He’d known a Jemma once, but he couldn’t remember how.

“This is a one-bedroom flex apartment,” the realtor said. Charming barely heard her. The kitchen was admittedly small, but granite, and the living room had wall-to-ceiling windows looking directly into the windows of the building across the street. 

He exhaled softly. “It’s beautiful,” he said.

“We’ll take it,” Jemma said from behind him.

“Excuse me?” the realtor asked. She sounded flustered. “Don’t you want to see the bedroom?”

“No thanks,” Jemma said. “We can just sign for it now. It’s a year at $2,500, right?”

“Well,” the realtor said. She dropped the keys. “I think it was actually $4,500, but—”

“But you can drop it to $2,500?”

The realtor crouched, grabbed the keys. Stood up. Nodded. Charming barely watched her; he was staring out at the expansive view, the soldier rows of boxy towers promenading down toward the East River.

“Perfect.” Jemma had bared her teeth. “When can we move in?”

Charming felt his shoulders relax for the first time in several days. Finally, things were looking up.