Page 3 of Kiss of Deceit
He seemed nice. A regular friendly guy. But I looked at every person as a threat until I did my research. People couldn’t betrusted. They lied. Which was why I chose the profession I had nearly a decade ago.
“Go into that building,” the driver said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “They’ll get you situated.”
Not wasting a moment, I spun on my heels and headed toward the doors in front of me. There were a few steps, and my muscles strained as I dragged my heavy suitcase up. The sign above the entrance told me that this was town hall.
I welcomed the warmth as I got inside, and I studied the few tables that were set up around the room. There were signs taped to the front of each of them, and I strode to the one marked with the first letter of my last name. The woman sitting behind the table gave me a welcoming smile as she handed me packet.
“Name?” she asked cheerfully.
“Dani Henderson,” I replied quietly, not wanting to broadcast my name to everyone else who was in here.
She flipped through some paperwork before stopping and lifting out an envelope. “Here you are. This has the address of where you’ll be staying, and your debit card. Everyone coming in today will be sharing a place with one other person, but you’ll get your own bedroom. Your employer expects you at work tomorrow at eight o’clock in the morning.”
My lips parted slightly when she dismissed me with a small wave of her hand. “That’s it?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Were you expecting a tour?”
“No,” I said, keeping my voice controlled. “But I don’t even know where my house is.”
“There’s a map in the envelope.” She was already waving the next person forward. “This town is small enough that you can walk anywhere. Unless you think walking twenty minutes will kill you?”
I pursed my lips. “I can handle it, thanks.”
Nerves invaded me as I went back outside, and I halted once I got to the bottom of the steps. The sun was high in the sky even though there was no warmth coming from it. Ripping open the envelope, I took the map out first. It seemed I’d be staying in the condos I first saw when we drove in. It was maybe a ten-minute walk.
“Hey, Dani.”
Miles stopped next to me with an envelope identical to mine in his hands. “A bunch of us are going out for dinner and drinks tonight. I wanted to extend an invite.”
“Uh, thanks. Maybe,” I answered, mulling over the offer. I wanted to sleep, but it would be smart to get to know the town and people before I start my job.
“There’s a bar called Last Call.” He pointed down the street. “That’s where we’re meeting. Probably around seven so we all have time to relax first.”
Letting my face morph into a false, friendly version of myself, I nodded. “I’ll be there.”
I spotted a small coffee shop across the street and my mouth watered at the prospect of hot coffee. Without a second thought, I hauled my suitcase with me, crossing the street while realizing I hadn’t seen a single car since we’d gotten here. I frowned, scanning the area, and seeing only three cars parallel parked near the curb. They weren’t joking about this town being small.
With a shake of my head, I kept walking, pulling open the door to the coffee shop. It didn’t have a special name, and the only word on the small sign wasCafé. The space was small with just enough room for the counter with about seven feet in front of it, in front of the large window was a narrow raised counter with bar stools. A single barista sat behind the register, and she glanced up at me, excitement bubbling in her eyes. Her short blonde hair was curly and bounced around as she stood up.
“Hi,” she welcomed me. “You must be one of the new interns.”
I looked at my suitcase and then back at her. “I guess I should have dropped this off first.”
She laughed. “Everyone knows everyone here. New faces are rare. What can I get you?”
I ordered a large black coffee, and dug through my purse, finding a couple crumpled bills at the bottom. My gut twisted, and I reminded myself I’d have to be watchful of my spending until I started getting paid from this new job.
I stared through the large window as she poured my coffee, watching the other newcomers wander around, taking in their new home. A few were already heading toward the condos, while others were checking out the stores. The girl handed me the coffee, and I mumbled a thanks before stepping back out into the cold.
Following the map, I made my way toward the condos, thankful the sidewalks were in good shape or rolling my suitcase would have been much more difficult. I memorized my new address, staring at the numbers on each condo as I passed them until finally finding mine. Instead of a key, the doors had locks on them with four-digit codes. Checking the paperwork for a second time to make sure I had it right, I punched in the numbers and the light on the lock turned green.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open, wondering if my new roommate was already here. Straight ahead was a set of stairs leading to the second floor. To my left was the living room that opened into the kitchen in the back of the house. The floor was a dark hardwood, and there was a gray rug stretched over it in front of the couch and a TV that was mounted on the wall. The white leather couch and three barstools near the kitchen island were the only options of places to sit.
There was no dining table, and the kitchen was small, but updated. The appliances were all stainless steel, and the white counters looked like real granite. Leaving my suitcase near the door, I strolled through the kitchen, seeing another door that opened into a small laundry room and half bath. The artwork on the walls were all generic, like what would be put up for an open house.
I went back to the front and grabbed my suitcase to lug it up the stairs. Getting to the top, I halted, taking in the large space. There was a spacious nook where a wooden desk sat with a leather office chair. On top of the desk was a closed laptop and a corded house phone. I stared at it in surprise, trying to remember the last time I’d seen one of those. Everyone just used cell phones these days.
There were three doors, two of which were open. One was a large bathroom with double sinks and a huge walk-in shower with a waterfall showerhead. The other room was a bedroom, in the same style as downstairs. There was a queen-size bed in the middle of the room, pushed up between two windows. A small, cushioned chair sat in the corner, and on the other side of the room was a dresser and a closet that was more than large enough to hold the clothes I’d brought. I didn’t have my own bathroom, and I grumbled under my breath at having to share one with a stranger.
