Chapter 6 : Penthouse Panorama

*Trinity's POV*

I felt like I truly was on a crime show as I ducked and walked through the building halls from the side door leading to the garage. Everywhere I went, I saw cameras, and judging from the absence of other apartment doors, Mr. Withers owned this entire floor.

Jesus.

I fumbled for the access code he had given me when he sent over the address and punched it into the keypad, hearing the locks open up for me. I turned the handle and entered the apartment cautiously. I looked up to realize there were no cameras in his entry or the rest of the house. I noted that as odd. But then my eyes fell on the layout in front of me.

The front room consisted of an extremely open-concept layout of a kitchen, dining room, and living room. Everything was as updated and modern as you would expect, and everything was immaculate, as if it had never even been used.

He clearly didn’t like clutter.

I thought of Arielle and how much she would love to have a house this clean, and couldn't help but smile. This was one of those places that kids obviously weren't allowed in. I walked over to the windows that lined the complete far wall and gasped at the view.

You could perfectly see the beautiful California hills as the sun set over them, and it was breathtaking. I had never seen West Heartford look that beautiful in the entire time I had known it. Talk about the perfect vantage point, right in the center of Heartford.

The sun continued to set, and I was enthralled. But then the baby turned in my stomach, bringing me back to reality and the clothes I still had draped over my arms.

Right. He had told me to take the clothes and put them in his room…

I began to investigate the rest of the penthouse, opening every single door that I came across, searching for his bedroom. Just as I was nearing the end of the hall, I realized that I must be getting close to the master suite. My hand hesitated on the door handle.

Then I turned it and entered.

Sure enough, there was a massive bedroom behind the door. The room was almost as big as the front living area, and I walked in, too curious to stop myself. Just like the rest of the house, the walls and the room were bare and decorated very modernly, consisting mostly of white and black. I couldn't pick out a single color right off the bat.

I was surprised to see a T.V. in his bedroom as well. He didn't seem like the type to have time to waste watching television. I moved on to the closest door and was greeted with a massive bathroom containing a giant walk-in shower with multiple nozzles for the water.

Again, no decorations.

Besides the fact that I only now realized just how much money this man had, I felt like I really wasn't learning much else about him. People’s homes were usually considered to emulate who they were as human beings, but seeing Mr. Withers’ house, it was void of any emotion. Like he didn’t care what people thought. Or, it depicted him exactly to a ‘t’—a man robbed of any feeling.

I liked to say it was the latter.

I left the bathroom and walked over to the other door, figuring it just opened up to the closet. I was partially right. It did open up to the closet, but there was nothing 'just' about it. The closet was almost its own second bedroom inside.

Part of the logical side of my brain thought that a closet the size of a bedroom was such a waste of space, but the other part of my brain wanted it badly. A whole room to organize the dressers, the shoes, and the clothes? Count me in.

I saw a whole wall dedicated to the high end suits that I watched him wear every day. I had to admit that they didn't look as good on the rack as they did on him. Lynn was right. Despite being an asshole, I couldn't deny that my boss was a very good-looking man.

One of the drawers was slightly ajar, so I casually looked inside. It seemed to be a drawer for all of his extra cards and personal affairs. There were especially a lot of business cards. I was shocked to see how many were in the drawer, but I was sure that people were constantly giving him their business cards while walking down the street and such.

The fact that he kept them, though, made me look at him slightly differently. I thought he seemed like the type to not care about anybody and always moved on his own clock, so the fact that he had kept all of these impressed me. Some of them were just names and a number, but here they were in a drawer.

Maybe he wasn't as heartless as I had thought.

I heard the elevator door ding from the open bedroom door and slightly panicked. I hurried and shut the door and left the room before I could be caught snooping.

It was possible Mr. Withers had come back early, and I definitely didn't want him to find me snooping around in his house. But when I left the long hallway, it wasn't Mr. Withers that I saw, but a woman. For some reason, she looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place my finger on it.

She was tall and slender and was obviously wearing the highest-end clothes. She looked like she could be on the runway. I could even see the name-brand purse clutched in her hand as she turned to look at me. The happy look on her face faded slightly as she saw it was just me, and her striking green eyes glanced down at the clothes I was carrying as realization dawned on her face.

"Who are you? The new maid?" she asked. Her voice seeped judgment, and from the way her eyes moved to my stomach and her mouth downturned at the sight of it, she clearly was someone much more cynical than she pretended to be.

"No, my name is Trinity,” I corrected her. “I’m Mr. Withers new personal assistant."

I held out the hand that was not holding onto the clothes in an attempt to show civility, only, she didn't take it. Rather, she flipped her long stick-straight black hair over her shoulder.

I watched her look me over from head to toe with a look of disgust on her face. My business clothes were not bad by any means, but they were not as expensive or name-brand as the outfit that she had on.

Looking at her now, I doubted that she even owned anything casual.

"I’m Anne Gordon. I’m assuming you already know who I am." Her green eyes seemed to bore into my soul as she exuded confidence.

“Gordon, as in Gordon Hotels?” I asked carefully.

I got a small smile from her at this recognition, noting she was somewhat pleased Except, it quickly faded and she continued. "Yes, that hotel. And I’m also Matthew's girlfriend."

Hold up. His girlfriend?

Then it dawned on me. That was where I recognized her from. During my research of the music industry and my new boss shortly after being hired, I saw some pictures of the two of them together in some of the older magazines. They were often photographed at a lot of fancy events together.

I wondered why his house didn’t have any hint of their relationship or her even ever being there. He also never mentioned her. Clearly someone in a happy relationship would want to acknowledge it, correct?

Then again, this was Mr. Withers I was talking about and truthfully, it wasn’t any of my business.

"It’s great to meet you," I said, giving her the same fake smile she had given me.

The longer I was around her, the more I wanted to leave. I hated people like this. But I needed to entertain her, especially being my boss’s girlfriend. There was no room for error, and no doubt she’d cause a scene if I didn’t play along.

Anne flipped her hair again and crossed her arms. "Well, actually, I am fairly sure he is going to propose to me soon, so I guess I should say fiancé," she continued in a cocky tone with another smile.

I had to do everything to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Something told me that she wasn’t giving me the entire story, but I could care less. I was just here to do one job, and one job alone. Then, I could get home and finally get some sleep.

"That is so exciting," I said shortly, keeping the fake smile plastered to my face. "I was married once. There’s nothing like it."

Was? I was married once…technically if my spouse died, I was still married, right? The question seemed to still plague me, even after answering it countless times at the baby checkups, but the bare ring finger on my left hand told another story.

Anne looked at me in confusion, as if she was uncertain why I would tell her that and talk about my life. She confirmed her disinterest in me by not responding and changing the question.

"Is Matthew on his way home soon?" she asked, looking around.

If she was really dating him, wouldn't she already know?

"I'm not sure," I answered slowly. "He just asked me to pick up his dry cleaning and bring it to his house."

"Oh, well, I can take care of that," she replied, and her smile grew even bigger. "Just leave them on the couch, and I will make sure they get where they are supposed to go."

I hesitated. This woman was giving me serious untrustworthy vibes, and she made me feel uneasy in general. However, I still didn't want to anger my boss' potential girlfriend, so I walked towards the couch and set the clothes down across the back of it.

“Uh, thank you,” I noted, to which she replied with another clearly obvious fake smile. Then I walked past her and pushed the elevator button, waiting for it to come back up. "It was great meeting you.”

“I’m sure it was,” she replied with a wave of her hand. "Hopefully, you last longer than the last personal assistant."

Last longer? What?

I opened my mouth to ask, but the elevator door opened, and Anne turned and walked away without a second look. I stepped into the elevator and took another deep breath as the doors closed. This was all too much. She was all too much. But like anything else, she was part of the job.

I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh of relief at the realization that home was only less than 30 minutes away. My feet were killing me and I was ready to climb into bed and never get out.

Whatever happened back there didn’t matter. None of it did. This was their world, not mine, and I was fine with that. I was focused on my baby and me, and that’s all I cared for. I couldn’t let what she said get to me.

Right now, all I could do was hope that Anne was being truthful and that she didn't just cost me my job.