The rules

Zara 

The smell of fresh linen and the unfamiliar softness of the mattress was the first reminders that I wasn’t in my apartment anymore. 

I blinked sleep from my eyes and stared at the ceiling. 

For a brief moment I did not remember where I was until I bent my head to look out the window. 

Then I remembered I lived in a penthouse. 

A quiet sigh escaped me as I sat up, pushing the duvet aside m. Sunlight poured through the windows, painting golden streaks across the wooden floor. 

Today was officially my first day living here. 

After showering and changing, into a pair of jean shorts and an oversized cream sweater, I tie my hair into a loose ponytail before leaving my room. 

The hallway was silent. 

I wondered if River was awake or still asleep.

As I reached the kitchen, something caught my attention. 

A single  sheet of paper rested neatly on the marble island. Beside it lay a matte black card like the one he gave me last night. 

Curiosity got the better part of me. 

I walked over and picked up the paper. 

At the top, written in neat handwriting were two simple words. 

Good morning. 

I smiled without meaning to and then my eyes moved lower. 

Since we will be sharing this house for the next six months, I’d appreciate it if we respected these simple rules. 

I continued reading. 

Do not enter my bedroom unless I ask you to.

I nodded to myself. Fair enough. I wasn’t planning on wandering into his room anyway. 

If you move anything in the house, return it where you found it. I prefer things to stay organized. 

I laughed quietly. “Of course you do.” 

That sounded exactly like River. 

If you will be home late, send me a message. I’ll do the same. 

Do not bring anyone over to the house without informing me first. 

We will have to adjust number four in the long run. 

Every shared space is yours to use. You don’t need my permission. 

The small knot in my chest loosened. 

Until that moment, I’d been worried I’d spend the next six months feeling like an unwanted guest. 

Apparently not. 

Then I reached the final paragraph. 

      The black card beside the note belongs to you. 

I glanced at it. 

      The PIN IS:4826. 

       But whatever you need. Clothes, shoes or anything

       else you didn’t bring with you. 

I looked at the card and then at the note. 

I couldn’t imagine casually handing someone a bank card and telling them to shop. 

I folded the note carefully and slipped it back into the counter. 

“Control freak.” 

He was too organized. 

The kitchen itself proved that.

Every appliance sat perfectly in place. The counter tops were spotless, the cupboards neatly arranged, and even the fruit bowl looked as though someone had positioned each piece with mathematical precision. 

I opened one cabinet. 

All the plates and cups were arranged perfectly. 

“My gosh.” 

A few minutes later, I had a simple breakfast of toast, scrambled eggs, and a steaming jug of coffee. 

I carried my plate to the dining table overlooking the city. 

The view was beautiful. 

From up here, the streets below looked peaceful. It was hard to believe that somewhere beyond those buildings was the little apartment I’d called home until yesterday. 

My phone buzzed beside my plate. 

A message from Elizabeth. 

So….hows the little life with Mr Billionaire? Survived the first night?

I laughed then typed back.

Still alive. He’s left me a list of house rules. 

Three dots appeared almost immediately. 

Already.

He’s impossible. 

On impulse, I arranged my breakfast neatly on the table again and snapped a quick picture. 

I opened my message, and sent the picture to River with a smiling emoji. 

I hit send almost immediately. 

A minute later, my phone buzzed. 

He reacted to my message with a thumbs up. 

I stared at the screen. “That’s it?” 

I waited for a few more seconds to see if he would send any other message to accompany that. But he didn’t. 

“You are impossible.” 

I was done with my breakfast in no time and I made sure to keep the plates I used in the right place. 

The house was too quiet now and I needed to do something about it. I immediately changed my shorts to a pair of jean. I slipped my phone is a small purse, picked up the key card and headed out the door. 

The elevator got to the last floor at the bottom and I walked to the entrance. 

The air was fresh. The weather was getting cozy now. 

The neighborhood surrounding the building was beautiful. 

Tree-lined sidewalks stretched in both directions. It was very different from my neighborhood. 

No cafes. No bakeries. People were not even walking around the block. Just cars moving. The neighborhood looked private. 

I walked without a particular destination in mind until a small park came into view in front. 

A few children were there but supervised people older. A few elderly couples occupied benches beneath the shape of large oak trees. 

It looked peaceful. 

I found an empty bench and sat down. 

My phone was already in my hand. 

I was going to respond to some emails. But why I didn’t know was that they were more than I actually thought them to be. 

Elizabeth was already doing most of the work down there, but I still had a part to play. I reviewed invoices, approved a proposal and answered questions online concerning our services. And replied to two clients who apparently believed that their emails should be responded to first. 

Time slipped unnoticed. 

The low growl of a motorcycle engine drifted through the park. 

I looked up briefly. 

A black motorcycle had stopped near the entrance. The rider wore a black helmet that completely concealed their face. 

Probably waiting for someone. 

The thought barely lasted a second before I returned to my screen. 

By the time I looked up, the motorcycle was gone. 

I stretched my hands above my head and glanced at the time. 

“I should head back now.” 

The streets were busier now. As I walked down the street, the sound is a motorcycle engine reached my ears again. 

I just thought it was a coincidence. 

The penthouse came into view a few minutes after. 

Just before I stepped inside, something made me glance across the street. 

The black motorcycle was parked near the curb. The rider remained seated, vision lowered, motionless. 

I wondered who they were waiting for. 

Then the concierges greeted me with a polite smile, drawing my attention back. 

I smiled at him back and continued walking. 

I got to the elevator and before it closed, I took a quick glance at the motorcycle but the rider wasn’t there anymore.