Page 11 of His to Enjoy
I blinked at him. “New apartment?”
Scott smiled. “Nothing huge, but comfortable and very new. I’ll think about your qualifications, Grace, and figure out by tomorrow whether you’re a good fit for my team.”
My face went hot as I tried to subdue the warmth already regathering down there, at the condescension in his tone and the double entendre I couldn’t help finding in his words.
“Thanks for being a good girl for me,” he said, opening the door. “It’s definitely one of the most important things I look for in an intern.”
He vanished through the door, closing it behind him.
I stood there in the empty screening room for several minutes, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My makeup was indeed ruined—mascara streaked down my cheeks, lipstick smeared, my hair a tangled mess. I looked like exactly what I was: a woman who had just been thoroughly used by her potential new boss.
With shaking hands, I did my best to clean up my face using tissues from my purse, then made my way to the elevator. The journey to Human Resources felt endless. Every person I passed in the hallway seemed to know what had just happened, though rationally I knew that was impossible. Still, I kept my eyes down, clutching my phone like a lifeline.
The HR department was on the third floor, a bustling open office space that felt jarring after the intimate darkness of Scott’s screening room. A cheerful receptionist directed me to a cubicle where a young man in his twenties waited with a tablet.
“Ms. Whitcomb,” he said brightly, not seeming to notice my disheveled appearance. “I’m Tyler. Ms. Fagan has put through your paperwork, so I can get you set up for your new home.”
I managed a weak smile. “Thank you.”
“Let me just sync your handheld.” He took my device, connecting it to his tablet with practiced efficiency. “The keycode app is downloading now. Your apartment is in Building C of the Selecta Residential Complex, unit 1247. The app will handle everything—entry, climate control, even ordering groceries.”
As he spoke, I watched icons appear on my screen. One caught my eye—a small camera symbol in the corner.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing.
Tyler’s smile never wavered. “Oh, that’s the security monitoring indicator. For your safety and protection, of course. All Selecta housing units have comprehensive surveillance systems.”
My insides lurched. “Surveillance?”
“Standard for Selecta housing,” he said, as if this was perfectly normal. “The cameras are discreet—built into the fixtures and walls. You won’t even notice them after a while.”
“Who has access to the feed?” My voice came out smaller than I intended.
“Your direct supervisor, naturally. In your case, that’s Sharon Fagan as of now. Also security, in case of emergencies.” Tyler handed my device back. “The bathroom has privacy mode, activated by voice command, though that can be overridden by your supervisor if they think it necessary.”
I stared at him, trying to process this information. Not only would I be working for a company where paddling was a standard form of reprimand, but my boss would have access to watch me in my most private moments at home. The thought should have been horrifying, but after what had just happened in Scott’s screening room, I felt that familiar, unwanted flutter of arousal.
“You’re all set,” Tyler told me. “The shuttle to your complex leaves every fifteen minutes, twenty-four/seven, from Parking Level 1.”
CHAPTER 6
Grace
The shuttle dropped me at Building C fifteen minutes later, and I stood for a moment in the sleek lobby, my handheld clutched in trembling fingers. The keycode app glowed on the screen, a small green icon that somehow seemed to have its own weight. In fact, it almost felt heavier than the device itself. Unit 1247. My new home, courtesy of Selecta Corporation.
The elevator whisked me to the twelfth floor in near silence, opening onto a hallway that looked more like a luxury hotel than corporate housing. Soft lighting, deep carpet, abstract art on the walls. My apartment door was a rich mahogany color, the number etched in brushed steel beside it.
The app chirped softly as I approached, and I heard the lock disengage with a subtle click. The door swung open to reveal a space that took my breath away.
It was stunning. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominated the far wall, offering a view of the city skyline that seemed like the opposite of the little garden I had looked out at from my kitchenwindow three weeks ago, when my life seemed settled. The living area was open and airy, furnished with a cream-colored sofa and matching chairs that looked impossibly soft. A kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances gleamed to my left. Everything was modern, sophisticated, expensive.
I walked through slowly, running my fingers along the smooth surfaces. The bedroom looked equally impressive—a king-sized bed already made with crisp white linens, a walk-in closet stocked with hangers, a vanity with perfect lighting. The bathroom featured a deep soaking tub and a separate glass shower with multiple jets.
It was everything I’d never dared dream of having. And yet…
My eyes kept catching on tiny details. The smoke detector in the bedroom ceiling seemed unusually large. The decorative mirror in the living room had an odd sheen to its surface. Even the elegant light fixtures appeared to have small dark spots at their centers.
Cameras. They were everywhere, just as Tyler had said—discreet, built into the architecture itself.
