Roxy opened the sliding closet doors. “As you can see, you’ll have plenty of space here,” she said.
“It’s a beautiful place, Roxy.”
“Actually, it’s the biggest apartment in the hotel. Mrs. Brittany saw to that.”
“You mentioned her before. Who is she?”
She thought a moment and nodded to herself. “I should deal with all that first. Mrs. Brittany is the head of the company I work for. She wasn’t happy about your coming here to live with me. I had to make a number of promises to her about you and how you would behave here. You can’t violate any of these rules I’m setting down.”
She walked to the window and opened the drapes. My windows looked out on the avenue, but the panes were thick and almost soundproof.
“She will probably stop by soon to see you and how I’m managing this,” she continued, and turned back to me. “First, whenever I have a client visiting, you can’t leave this room. I’ll tell you way in advance so you will have time to get anything you want and bring it in here. You’ll keep the door closed and not come out until I let you know you can. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” I said. “How often do you have clients?”
“I’d rather you didn’t ask me any questions about any of this, M. When I think it’s necessary for you to know something, I’ll tell you, okay?”
I shrugged. Was she embarrassed, ashamed, or just secretive? “Okay.”
“There’s a restaurant on this block that sends up dinners. I’ll show you their menu, and you can order anything you want. We’ll do our own breakfasts when we’re here for breakfast. Should I have a client staying overnight, I’ll have you put up in a room on another floor. You’ll know in advance so you’ll have time to get your things together. You have a television in here and a phone, but be sure not to use the television when I have a client. It’s important.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say some of these clients want to be very discreet and would rather very few, if any, know they’ve come here. It would especially spook them to know there was someone else in the apartment.”
“Are they famous people? Would I recognize them? Is that why?”
“What did I just say about questioning me, M?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Yeah, well, contain your curiosity under lock and key for a while, will you? Now,” she continued, walking toward the door, “I really don’t anticipate Aunt Lucy making a thing of this, but you never know what someone as self-important as that will do. So you have to do well in school and stay out of trouble. I know you’ve been doing well, but what I mean is, you can’t suddenly change for the worse because you’re with me. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve made an appointment for us with this attorney, Steve Whitman. He handles estates and all that and will process Mama’s will. He’s also connected with some real estate people, so he’ll get the town house on the market very quickly for us—for you, I should say. How do you get to school every day?”
“I walk.”
“You have to walk farther now,” she said.
“I know how much farther this is, Roxy. I’ve been here before, remember?”
“Right,” she said. “Good.”
I wanted to tell her about Chastity and me spying on her, but I didn’t think it was a good time to do that.
“Well, do you want help unpacking?”
“No. Can I see your bedroom?”
She smiled. “Okay, but no jokes,” she said. Now I really was curious.
We went through the hallway to the living room. She showed me the dining room and the kitchen, and then we went down another short marble hallway to a double-door bedroom. It was about one and a half times larger than mine, but the centerpiece was her blazing red bed shaped like a heart. The walls were papered with depictions of beautiful gardens. There was a mirror on the ceiling above the bed. The area rug was a tight-threaded crimson. The wood in her dresser, vanity table, and nightstands was rich cherry. Her en suite bathroom was twice the size of mine, with a Jacuzzi, a large shower, and a second bathtub.
“Flowers and hearts,” I said. “Fleur du Coeur.”
“Mrs. Brittany takes her themes very ser