The Boy Who Has No Faith (Soulless 5)

But knowing Derek…he might hate it.

I took a few pictures and sent everything to Cleo. What do you think?

Ooh…major improvement. It actually smells clean just by looking at the picture.

Oh, it’s sooo much better. I never told him because I didn’t want to offend him, but…it totally smelled like man.

Knowing him, he wouldn’t care enough to be offended. LOL.

I wish I could be here to see his reaction. I really hope he likes it.

Don’t expect a compliment. You know you did your job right when they don’t say anything at all. It’s just how it goes in this business.

Thirteen

Derek

I parked my Bugatti in the underground garage before I took the elevator to the lobby. It was almost seven when I approached the front desk to retrieve my mail.

The mail lady shook her head. “Your new assistant already grabbed it for you, Mr. Hamilton.”

She did? A heads-up would have been nice. “Thank you.” I got into the elevator and scrolled through the emails I hadn’t opened. I had to carry two full-time jobs at once, working at the company as an employee and engineer, and also running it…which I hated. But I couldn’t hand the reins to someone else and expect them to do it right.

The doors opened, and I walked to my apartment. I got the door unlocked and stilled when I stepped inside.

The place looked totally different.

There was a painting on the wall over the fireplace, a closeup image of a black stallion, its dark eyes having a slight shine that made it stand out against the rest of his blackness. The coffee table had a white vase with a tall arrangement of flowers. Other décor was spaced out, stuff that stuck out to me because it was new but also blended in like it was supposed to be there. There were other paintings on the walls, covering the white color that had been there before. The dining table where I worked had an interesting sculpture in the center, and a few more vases of flowers were spread out. There wasn’t a glare on the windows because they had been cleaned until it didn’t even look like glass anymore.

I stepped farther inside and noticed the mail sitting on the coffee table, spread out and labeled. One pile had a stack of magazines and flyers. The sticky note on top read Junk? Let me know if you want me to toss these things in the future. There was another stack with a note on top that read Bills. Once you get more comfortable, I can pay these bills for you. She labeled everything else.

There were a couple of keys along with a letter from Emerson.

Good evening, Derek.

The brown key is to the lock on your office door. Diane never entered the room, and when the locksmith brought the filing cabinet and safe, I watched him the entire time. The little gray key is to the filing cabinet. The safe needs a code to be programmed, so you can take care of that. The security guys installed the alarm system. They gave me my own code. That way, you always know when it’s me who enters your penthouse. The notification will be sent to your phone. The sealed envelope contains your code. You can always change it on your own if you wish. Fridge is stocked with groceries, and the chef placed your dinner in the fridge. Call me if you have any questions.

And if you hate the way your penthouse looks, don’t worry. I can return everything and put it back the way it was tomorrow.

Have a good night

-Emerson

PS: I have copies of the keys in case you ever lose them. Let me know if you want them back.

I returned the note to the coffee table then carried my satchel to the dining table. I ventured into the kitchen and opened the fridge door, seeing the way it was neatly organized—and clean.

Everything was clean.

The penthouse looked like a whole new place.

I took out a beer then grabbed the container that held my dinner. I opened the lid and examined it, finding it appetizing. After throwing it in the microwave, I took everything to the dining table and took a seat.

I opened my laptop and pulled out my work, eating at the same time.

The place had a totally different vibe. It wasn’t so cluttered, wasn’t so overwhelming. It lowered my stress level, like I hadn’t realized how claustrophobic the place was until everything had been cleaned.

And it did smell different—it smelled better.

Did it smell bad before?

Once I got to work, I stopped thinking about the changes to my penthouse. My mind was sucked into the vortex, and instead of being a person, I was just an entity, just a mind working furiously to make sure a single mistake was never made.

Because a single mistake was all it took.