Eliana Brown
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Two days later, I was standing inside the private elevator in my apartment complex that led to the penthouse above. To say I was nervous was an understatement.
Since there were no stops, I got to the penthouse in less than a minute and the doors of the elevator opened to reveal William Caddel leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He was still in formal attire as though he had just gotten back from work.
When he saw me, he pushed off the wall and approached me. “You’re early.” He checked the watch on his wrist. He had told me to come over by seven o’clock. It was six-fifty-eight. “I like that.”
I didn’t know how to reply to that so I just went with “thanks.” I stepped out of the elevator just as he reached for the shoe rack and placed a pair of slippers in f
