Chapter 3 Chapter 3
“It is. Let’s see how she reacts to you, and we’ll discuss salary and everything else.”
“Okay then, Mr. Bryce. I’ll see you soon.”
After the call ended, I sat back and downed my coffee. I hurried through my morning routine and got dressed. I settled on jeans and a T-shirt. I wasn't dressing to impress; I was dressing to be myself and to show that I could take care of someone. I wore my sneakers; after making sure everything was off, I locked up and left.
I stepped out on the subway platform at eight thirty. It was a five-minute walk to the apartment complex. I was two minutes in when I received a message from Anthony Bryce.
"Tessa. When you get here, do not use the main lobby. Look for the discreet, recessed entry marked 'RESIDENTS ONLY' near the service bay. Key in 7200# on the keypad to open the port. Then key in 72A on the keypad by the elevator. That car is express to the top floors. I’ll meet you on 72."
“Okay, I'm here. I will," I replied. If you weren't looking for it, you wouldn't notice it. I've seen this building, passed it multiple times; it was all glass and steel. Now I knew it had 72 floors. I walked past the main lobby and saw the engraved plate; it looked like steel but was too shiny to be steel. “RESIDENTS ONLY” engraved in a beautiful font. I walked forward into what looked like a wrought-iron security gate, reminding me of a vault door.
The keypad was mounted next to the barrier in a sleek, dark stone. I walked over to it and keyed in the code he sent me. The gate made a soft, mechanical thunk and slid open just enough to let me through. When I stepped through, it began closing instantly. Before me was a brightly lit garage, with over ten cars, and they all looked expensive. The floor was polished black quartz, reflecting the undercarriage of the luxury vehicles. I saw the elevator door.
I made my way over; as I reached it, I noticed the keypad was of the same quality. I guess billionaires wanted nice things to look at too. As I was about to key the code in, the elevator doors opened, and I was looking up at a tattooed man dressed in a tailored, expensive-looking suit, with hair neatly styled and eyes cold. Why did I have to run into him? I pulled aside so he would walk by, but he just stood there, and it was annoying me.
“Are you leaving or not?” I asked. He didn't answer; his eyes scanned me, but I didn't flinch. After a few minutes, he stepped out. I keyed in the code and stepped in. “I hope I don't see his stupid ass again,” I muttered to myself as the elevator doors began closing, unaware that he heard my remark.
The interior of the elevator was unlike anything I've ever seen. It was velvet lined; it wasn't just velvet; it was a dense, inky black velvet that swallowed the light and sound. The texture felt overly plush, almost suffocating, like being inside a rich, expensive coffin. The space felt seamless and unnaturally private. The floor was the same polished black marble as the garage; there was no sound, just the low pressure change in my ears as I went upward, cutting me off from the city below.
When the elevator doors opened, I was faced with two burly men in black suits. They stepped forward immediately, pushing their hands out.
“Guys, she’s here for me.” I heard a man say, and they stepped backward. I stepped out of the elevator and saw a man, about six foot five, with blonde hair, looking around forty.
“Tessa?” he asked.
“Yes, and you are Anthony?”
“Yes, come on. Don't mind them,” he said, nodding towards the two men who were looking at me. He led me to the door and opened it for me.
“My mother, I'll let you meet her first before we discuss anything. She’s particular, and it has been giving me sleepless nights.” He said, running his hands through his hair.
“Okay then, let's see how it goes. What’s her first name?”
“Christine,” he replied.
“Okay.” I said, walking into the living room where the woman was sitting on the couch staring at the TV. I made my way over and sat beside her; she turned her head slightly and looked at me, then turned back to the TV.
“We’re going to be spending many nights together, Christine, just so you know. I don't eat healthy, and you won't either.” I saw Anthony standing by the wall out of her sight. She turned again and looked at me. I leaned in close. “If you’re not on medication, then the occasional glass of wine is fine. My job is to make sure you stay alive and not try to sneak out and get me in trouble. If you don't mention the wine and junk food, I won’t. Besides, Anthony feeds you enough healthy food; a little junk food won’t do any harm.”
I looked around as if I was making sure he wasn't around. “I won’t try to keep you locked up; maybe we can hit the town and find you a boyfriend,” I said, and she began laughing, well, she tried. Anthony came towards us.
“Shh, don't mention anything,” I whispered to her, and she began laughing louder. He sat and looked at his mother.
“Mom, will you let Tessa take care of you?” He asked, and the way he asked told me he truly cared about his mother. I saw her nod her head yes.
“Okay then. Tessa, why don't we head to my office and discuss everything?” he said, and I stood up and followed him, not before winking at her, and she smiled.
I sat in the office looking at him, well, the Manhattan skyline behind him.
“Okay, this… It's the first time she's laughed since the stroke. She’s always quiet. I don't mind if she eats junk food or has wine; she's not on medication. If you do want to take her out in the evenings, all you need to do is let me know; the car keys will be on the side table. Twenty-five thousand a month.” he said, and I had to stop myself from looking at him with an open mouth.
“Ummm, is that normal?”
“Yes and no. How did you get here?” he asked
“Train, I live in Irvington."
“Okay, I’ll get you a MetroCard and also an ID for the building. Now for the reason why I am paying this much. There are two apartments on the floor alone. “Mine and Zaiel Rhyland’s,” he said with a look of expectancy.
“Umm, I don’t know who that is.” I said
Wait… you don't...” he asked, looking confused.
“Oh wait, the guys with the tattoos?” I asked, and he nodded.
“Zaiel Rhyland is the CEO of Rhyland Global. The Rhyland Heir.