Page 20 of Condemned By Secrets

At least Luther had given her some useful information, unlike Richard. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing him at work tomorrow, but if she set up an appointment to view the apartment Luther had told her about, perhaps it would get her through whatever uneasiness was bound to exist between them. Sighing, part in frustration and part in contentment, Anna leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the comfort of the bath envelop her.

She’d deal with tomorrow . . . tomorrow.

CHAPTER 7

Anna pulled up in front of the address Luther had given her and smiled. Before her stood a Victorian-era building that would have been considered a mansion in its time. It was painted a bright yellow accented with white trim. The cheery color stirred the excitement simmering in her veins.

She already had a good feeling about the apartment. The location was excellent, only a few blocks off Main Street. She’d be able to walk to places, and, though there wasn’t as much to do here as in D.C., where she’d grown up, it was a start. Stepping out of her car, she crossed her fingers and sent up a quick plea that the inside would be just as charming.

If this panned out, and she wanted it to, she’d have to thank Luther properly. She’d been rather snippy with him last night, but her mood had been far from even after the fiasco with Richard. Thinking of Richard again brought a frown to Anna’s lips.

She climbed the steps to the front porch, trying to focus on its architectural details as she ran her hands up the carved wooden railing, but the distraction didn’t soothe the nerves that were on edge from thoughts of Richard. Thankfully, he’d been assisting with a program in a neighboring town today, and their paths hadn’t crossed. She wasn’t looking forward to it when they did.

A shudder racked her body, and Anna took a deep breath, shaking off the memory from the previous evening, before lifting a hand to the brass-coated doorbell on the front of the house. Even this tiny thing was decorated. A swirling fleur-de-lis wrapped around the simple button.

Smiling at the delicate detailing, Anna pushed the buzzer. When she didn’t hear the typical chime of the bell, she frowned and tried again.

Still nothing.

Undeterred, she knocked on the heavy wooden door and waited.

No response.

After several moments, Anna knocked louder, sticking her ear to the door this time to see if she heard anyone moving within, but she was met with silence.

Stepping back, she pulled her phone out to check the time. It was now four o’clock—the time she’d set up to see the apartment.

Annoyance was starting to override the feeling of excitement she’d had since arriving. She huffed out a breath and dropped her phone back into her bag. Should she wait outside? Or . . .

Anna stared at the antique brass knob. It was located in the center of the door, flanked on either side by recessed panels. Should she try it? Would it be unlocked? Her eyebrows furrowed, and she chewed her lip as she debated.

Curiosity won out, and she tried the doorknob. It turned easily in her hand, and the door slowly creaked open. Nervous now, her pulse jumped as she stepped inside.

“Hello!” Anna called, hoping someone would answer, so she felt less like an intruder. “Cassandra?”

The woman had told her the apartment was on the second floor, so Anna started up the steps, thinking perhaps she’d meant to meet her at the apartment at four, not simply at the building. The staircase curved with the structure, and Anna’s fingers danced along the handrail as she ascended, lovingly tracing the craftsmanship that was so hard to find in contemporary construction.

When she reached the second-floor landing, she paused. She was here to look at Apartment 2, and there was a brass number “2” on the door in front of her. Crossing her fingers again, she knocked on the door and prayed Cassandra would answer.

After less than a moment, the door opened to reveal a beautiful blonde with eyes the color of cornflowers. “Hi! You must be Anna?”

Anna smiled in response but fought the urge to fidget with her hair. She probably looked a mess compared to the effortlessly put-together woman in front of her. “I am. And you’re Cassandra?”

“Oh, just Cassie, please. Here,”—she stepped back and opened the door wide—“come on in.”

A wide grin spread across Anna’s face as she entered the apartment. The charm was there in the polished hardwood floors, the picture railing, and the detailed molding around the doorways and windows, and that was just what she saw from the main room.

“It’s lovely.” Her heart raced, and she was eager to see the other rooms.

Cassie chuckled. “I’m glad you think so but let me show you the rest.”

Anna followed Cassie as she led her through a dining room complete with a chair rail and wainscoting to a kitchen, which despite being small, had been updated and housed a dishwasher—something that was a rare find in a historic home.

At the sight of it, Anna was ready to sign the lease. She mentioned this to Cassie, who laughed and told her she knew the feeling. Washing dishes by hand was the absolute worst.

Anna relaxed in Cassie’s company and thought, despite their differences, they could be friends. It would be nice to know at least one other person in town who was close to her own age.

They toured the bath, which was also updated and had a stackable washer/dryer combination. It would be wonderful not to have a shared laundry. That had gotten old fast during college.

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