Page 22 of Wicked Truths
There’s so many questions left unanswered, but I get the feeling that her job is just to hand me my keys.
I guess I’ll have to ask Rhett all these questions.
As if sensing my barrage of questions in my mind, she sighs and says, “There is a book on your coffee table about the apartment complex with a map of where the pool, gym, and sauna are located. If you have any questions, there is a sheet of contact numbers for you in the book.”
Clearly, she isn’t going to be much help, so I give her a friendly smile. “Thank you.”
Remembering Rhett telling me the far elevator is closer to my apartment, I head in the opposite direction of the lobby in search of the third elevator.
It’s easy to find, and it’s much quicker than the one I took down to the lobby from Rhett’s apartment.
Shit. What is my apartment number?
I look at the keys Darla handed me and see a tiny 213 written on the key with a Sharpie.
It doesn’t take long for me to find my apartment. When I open the door, I am met with the same views as the pictures online.
Everything is white, bright, and modern. I have the same large balcony door that Rhett has, but there’s less furniture in my apartment than his.
I make my way around the familiar floor plan, dropping my bags at the end of my bed.
The same spot where Rhett threw our clothes last night.
After checking out my bathroom, laundry room, and kitchen, I grab my phone, keys, and wallet from my purse and shove them into my pockets. I lock my apartment door and head back downstairs to make my way to the arena.
As soon as I walk through the doors, memories flood inside. The memories of coming to watch Joey play. The memories of sneaking around with Rhett, trying to find good hiding places for a quickie.
And the memory of sitting behind the players’ bench right before I made the decision to break up with Rhett.
It feels strange to be back, but this time it’s different. I’m not just Joey Marino’s sister or Rhett Montgomery’s girlfriend. Today, I’m the new director of public relations.
I square my shoulders and head upstairs to the offices and am immediately greeted by a younger woman wearing a light gray skirt suit and four inch black heels.
“Hi, you must be Francesca. I’m Alexandra, your father’s assistant.”
I hold out my hand and offer her a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you Alexandra. Sorry I’m so underdressed. The airport still has my luggage, and I couldn’t get into my apartment until this morning.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh! You didn’t have to come in today. You still have a lot to do to get settled into your apartment. I can tell your father that you need an extra day or two to get settled in.”
I wave her off. “My stuff is coming later this week, so I’m only missing a couple of pieces of luggage. It’s no big deal. Really.”
“If you say so.” She looks down at the Savannah Sharks t-shirt that I’m wearing and smiles.
Nodding, I say, “I do. Now onto something more pressing, where can I get a good cup of coffee?”
Her smile grows into a grin. “That I can help you with because I’m a master of caffeine. Follow me.”
She leads me down the long hallway and shows me to the staff break room. It’s a standard break room with a couple of tables and chairs, a refrigerator, microwave, and a sink.
The walls are painted Savannah Shark blue and on one wall is an entire coffee bar set up with several machines and all the additives one could hope for.
“You can use the dual coffee maker and make an individual cup or an entire pot. Or there’s the espresso and cappuccino machine if you’re craving something stronger and fancier. You will probably seeme here three to four times a day at the espresso machine.”
“Alexandra, I think you and I are going to be best friends. Will you show me how to use it? I’d hate to be the one responsible for cutting off your caffeine.”
“Oh, you couldn’t break it if you tried. What do you fancy this morning? Plain espresso? Flat white? Cappuccino?”
“A cappuccino sounds amazing.”