Sharon
She made her way into the master bathroom and turned on the shower. It was all done up in silvery tiles and the showerhead was sleek and modern, square-mounted into the ceiling. The water fell straight down like a waterfall. The pressure was always perfect, and Sharon had developed a habit of taking long, languorous showers during the day. Once the glass was good and foggy, she slipped out of her slinky nightie and stepped into the hot stream. She closed her eyes and let it run over her face, down her shoulders, over her breasts.
I wonder what’s hiding in the white bedroom. The thought popped into Sharon’s head before she could stop it. She wanted not to wonder, but she couldn’t help herself. It was just so odd, so perfectly hidden. She felt it had to be significant.
She lathered up a bright purple loofah and scrubbed herself with a thick rich body wash Marcello had brought her when he’d set her up in the penthouse. Sharon loved the creamy feel, the way it made her skin softer than silk. Once she was good and clean, she turned the shower off and stepped out to wrap herself in a fluffy gray towel. She left the glass door open. Clouds of residual steam leaked out and fogged the giant mirrors over the double sink. She stood on the bathmat, letting water drip from her hair.
There’s no harm in giving it another look, Sharon reckoned. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do. And, if the mystery square turned out not to be hiding anything after all, then no harm done.
She took her time as she finished grooming herself, brushing out her wet hair and covering her skin with luscious body cream. Grabbing her crumpled nightie from the floor, she strode naked across the suite to the closet, tossed the pink ball of fabric into the hamper and considered her options.
Marcello had really loaded her up with sexy little outfits and Sharon suddenly wondered how he had so accurately guessed her size. She selected a little black number, a bodysuit covered in exquisite lace and big bows with matching silk shorts. Never having indulged much in lingerie, not having needed to before, she was surprised by how feminine and alluring she felt in the flattering garments.
Sharon sighed. It was time to go check that panel again. Her gut told her she needed to. She made her way into the white bedroom, feeling guilty even as she did so. This wasn’t her secret to uncover, if there was any secret at all. But, without any other distraction, she knew the thought of it would drive her wild. Better to put her mind at ease.
She found the panel with no trouble. Now that she had found it she could hardly un-see it. It stood out like a beacon, tempting her curiosity. She felt around the panel, thinking maybe there would be a switch or a keyhole or something that would open it, but found nothing. It was about eighteen inches across and two feet high, so whatever was hiding back there had to be small.
A light bulb went off over Sharon’s head. The slit was very narrow, but so were the thin butter knives in the silverware drawer in the kitchen. Maybe she could pry it open with one of those!
She hurried to the kitchen, retrieve a knife and went back to the panel. Her excitement bordered on giddy, until she found that even the thin blade of the knife was too thick to fit into the edge of the square. She could probably work at it and wiggle it in, but she didn’t want to risk damaging the wall or the paint and making it obvious she’d been snooping. Defeated, she flopped back down on the white bed, sinking into the fluffy down comforter and letting out an exasperated huff.
You’re losing it, Sharon told herself. She’d been cooped up too long on her own. She wondered if maybe she was imagining the square out of sheer boredom. May as well go back to watching TV, she resigned herself.
She sat up lazily, letting her feet swing under the simple bed frame. Her toe grazed something on the floor.
Her spine straightened as she perked up in surprise. She climbed off the bed and got down on her knees. There was something under the bed. It looked like a light switch with one plain white button.
Excited, Sharon smacked the button with her open palm and she heard a faint click come from the wall behind her. When she turned around, the panel had opened just a little bit. She pulled it back. It swung like a door on hinges and opened onto a shiny silver safe embedded deep in the wall.
Whoa, Sharon thought. It was a clever place to hide a safe, but she suddenly felt guilty at having found it. She knew she shouldn’t have been snooping, but a secret safe was even more exciting than a secret panel.
Her pulse picked up a bit. The lever didn’t give when she pulled it, not that she really expected it to, but it had been worth a shot. She thought of all the silly heist movies her dad liked. Especially in the older ones, she remembered seeing criminals with their ears pressed up by the lock, listening for the clicks that signaled they’d found the right combination. She doubted it was real. Stuff in movies so rarely was. But she was more curious than ever about what Vittorio could be hiding. She pressed her ear to the cold surface and started spinning the dial, but she couldn’t hear anything. Her balled up fist smacked the silver safe in exasperation.
Sharon was officially out of ideas. She knew so little about safes that she couldn’t come up with another way to open it. The panel door clicked softly as she pushed it closed, resigning herself to her unanswerable questions. What did Vittorio have to keep in a safe? Was it a gun? Money? Something else?
She would probably never know.
The hours between the discovery of the safe and Vittorio’s arrival dragged. The secret hatch was all Sharon could think about. The possibilities of what Vittorio could be hiding were endless.
Finally, she heard the front door click open and eagerly scrambled off the couch where she had been playing games on her phone.