“Miss Bellamy?”
Beeks leaned closer, giving her a whiff of his cologne.
Only then did Shyla realize she’d lost herself in her thoughts. “I’m sorry, were you saying something?”
Already he’d be regretting the decision to hire her. After promising to be a hard worker, she’d zoned out only seconds into the job.
“I asked if you have many things to move in? We have a storage area on one of the lower floors if you have larger items. All of your bedroom furniture and linens will be provided… unless you have special requirements.”
“No, I don’t have any special requirements or large items,” she said, shaking her head, almost unable to believe this was actually happening. “Is this where I’ll be living?”
Beeks retrieved a phone from his pocket. “Yes. You’ll be on call twenty-four seven for whatever is required. You will have to do the cooking and cleaning. All of the errands, including grocery shopping, etc. We’ll give you a credit card… Just keep your receipts for anything household related, I’ll collect them whenever I’m around.” He was typing into his phone. “There won’t be anything too strenuous, the building has maintenance for household repairs. You can dial the concierge from any phone or intercom.”
“Concierge?” she asked.
Beeks looked up from his typing. “Yes,” he said, lowering his phone to his knee. “There are ten units in the building, one on each floor. We’ll have your fingerprint added to the system so you can use the elevators, and access the apartment from either of the two stairwells. There’s a pool and lounge area downstairs, as well as a bar and a restaurant too. We have valet—”
“Oh, I don’t drive.”
“Okay, well, there’s a gym. You’ll have full access to that… Everything you need is right here.”
“Laundry?”
He pointed to where Score had been. “Laundry room’s second right in the hall. This place has all the mod cons, built in coffee machine in the kitchen, everything you could need. We can control all of it from the smart panels dotted around.”
Standing up, he seemed more at ease when he put his phone back in his pocket. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
The apartment was breathtaking.
Shyla learned there was a second hallway at the far end of the living space. From there, they had access to one stairwell, a powder room, and a third bedroom. Oh, and it turned out that the terrace did sweep around every side of the apartment.
The trash chute was first on the right of the longer hallway. A small offshoot after that led to the second stairwell as well as their full-stocked laundry room. Beeks took it all in his stride, but she was overwhelmed.
At the end of the longer hallway, two doors faced each other. Two bedroom doors. To the left, the master suite. Beeks didn’t take her in there; she supposed because Score was home. If she was going to be looking after the whole place, she’d have to go in there sometime. Stripping the beds and cleaning the bathroom would be tough if she wasn’t allowed in the master’s bedroom.
Beeks took her through the door opposite Score’s and revealed that bedroom was hers. The view from everywhere in the apartment was amazing and her bedroom didn’t disappoint. It had the same full height windows that she’d seen everywhere else. They even slid open to allow her access to the terrace.
The bed was huge with a black padded headboard taller than her. It contrasted to the crisp, sumptuous white linens. Amazed, it was almost unbelievable, shocking even, that she was going to live in such a gorgeous place.
Shyla stood at the window for the longest time, gaping at the view and wondering if she should be thanking karma for placing her so gently on her feet.
When she didn’t return to the living area, Beeks came back to usher her through. He sat her at the dining table and they started to go through paperwork and contracts. The man’s ability to multitask was impressive. Without missing a beat, he asked her to fill in various details and sign dotted lines all while he typed furiously on his phone.
Once they were done with documents, Beeks gave her instructions for the following day. Shyla was to pack whatever she needed and be ready for noon. He took down her current address and told her that someone called Russell Tench, who everyone apparently called “Fish” would come to pick her up. He asserted that all her moving in should be done that weekend. Obviously, he didn’t understand that she didn’t own much.
Beeks gave her a cellphone and added her fingerprint to the system at the smart panel in the kitchen. It was official. She had a job. She had a home. She was going to be okay.
Shyla spent the night filling bags and suitcases with clothes and knickknacks. Stan’s son, Mick, wouldn’t let her take any items from the house. Being the sentimental type, the odd ornament or picture would’ve been appreciated. As it was, she was relegated to pack only things from her bedroom.
It was sort of pathetic that her whole life could be reduced to half a dozen suitcases, gym bags, and trash bags. But that was it. Her life in a heap by the door.
Before moving in with Stan, her grandfather rented a furnished house. They didn’t have any precious heirlooms. The picture of the three of them on her nightstand would have to serve as enough of a memento.
To her, it didn’t seem right that a man who’d
