Heathens & Hold Ups (Book 2 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 17- Callie

We are out of the good creamer. In the grand scheme of things, it's not a big deal. It's just creamer. But today of all days, sprinkling that chalky powder into my disposable cup of bitter coffee has me gritting my teeth, eyes closed, and counting backwards from twenty.

I practically ran out of my house this morning after spending way too much time plucking my eyebrows into some shape that didn't resemble a caterpillar foraging for food. A full face of makeup was a step too far, but I did my best to look put together, ironing my skirt and blazer until they looked almost brand new. Putting on the bracelet the guys got me, I have to say, they chose well. It's a dainty little thing, easy to go unnoticed and something I could see myself picking out. I blended my concealer and used my finger to tap in my cream blush, just like Nicole showed me. A swipe of mascara and some setting spray to finish me off, I think I did good. I just have to wait until she wanders in to hear the verdict.

Some of the others shuffle around the break room. All of us are probably the most put together we've ever been outside of our job interviews. The line for the coffee machine is probably the longest it's ever been and I'm not the only one who notices the absence of the liquid creamer judging by the tired groans.

"Oh, thank god you're already here," Nicole says dramatically as she breezes into the break room and starts to put away her purse and coat. "You're welcome by the way."

"For what?" I ask suspiciously. It could just as easily be another bad blind date or a gift card for a massage. It may have only happened once as an apology for the horrendous blind date, but still. It could happen.

"This," she beams, pulling a cup from behind her back filled with, yes, the coffee from the café across the street.

"I love you. You're amazing and anything bad I've ever said about you was a lie," I gush, praising her and that sweet, caffeinated ambrosia in her hand. "Give me," I reach greedily for it like a newborn or a zombie.

"You look cute," she says definitively. "We should get drinks tonight."

"We'll probably need them. Dusty's," I suggest and then pause. I'm not even sure if I'll be free. It all depends on how the guys' plan goes today. I quickly try to the wipe the blank panicked look on my face. Anything out of the ordinary will stand out and that's the last thing any of us need.

James quiets us all down once everyone has arrived. "Good morning everyone. I know this is not how we usually do things, but I do appreciate everyone coming in early and on time," he smiles at the room, but it doesn't meet his eyes as they land on those few faces that showed up on time. Nicole just raises her cup at him before she takes a rebellious sip while I hide my smirk at her attitude behind my own.

"We have a very important guest joining us today. Mr. Hamilton will be conducting a walkthrough of our branch this afternoon. You will be informed when he is arriving, but I want you to treat every customer like they could be Mr. Hamilton. It is imperative," he meets our eyes as he stresses the word, "that we pass with flying colors. I know you won't let me or Mr. Hamilton down." Hard to tell if his words are meant to inspire or threaten a perfect performance and I doubt he cares as long as it gets the desired result.

Holding in a laugh is next to impossible with Nicole next to me making faces behind her drink. I do my best to disguise it with a cough that ends up sounding like I'm choking.

"Are you alright Miss Danvers?"

"Peachy," I cough. "Wrong pipe," I brush off his concern.

After reiterating the importance of our performance today, he dismisses us. Nicole and I share a look and sigh of acceptance at our day of bullshit staring us in the face. Counting my till, I take a mental deep breath. You can do this Callie.

I am a liar.

I can not do this. At all. I probably look crazy the way I waver between obsessively checking the clock and the lobby doors every five minutes. I've had to recount at least two times when cashing a check. Fiddling with the bracelet around my wrist helps calm me some, but then I worry I've messed everything up and hastily drop it.

A little after one, once we've reopened the lobby after the quietest and quickest lunch break Nicole and I have ever had, a flustered James flies through with a forced smile and slightly crazy eyes. "Big smiles everyone. Let's make sure that we give every customer our best effort. He'll be here any moment," he hisses the last past through his still smiling teeth like some kind of ventriloquist.

With a last look up to the sky for I don't know, patience? Guidance? I don't know exactly what, but still I twist the fastening clasp twice until it locks and then I wait. The guys didn't tell me much of anything. In fact, they were adamant about it so that I could have deniable plausibility, but the anticipation is killing me.

I win my staring contest with the front door when Jaxson steps through. Humming a familiar tune that still haunts my dreams, I'd know that face anywhere despite the brown framed glasses he wears paired with a blue button down and slacks. If he had those long sleeves rolled up, I'd probably be mopping even more drool off the floor. Nicole stands up straighter and pushes her chest out and I have to bite my lip at my friend. I don't blame her one bit. You'd have to be blind to not see that he's leagues above most of the guys in town. I thought the whole point was for him not to stand out. Guess Pretty Boy is more than just a nickname. His eyes brush over me quickly before he walks over down to Nate's window.

Just be cool Callie.

A hush falls over the lobby when he walks in. Mr. Damien Hamilton, in the flesh. The muzak still plays in the background, but even it feels muted, like it can feel the presence if power filling the room. I've never seen the man in person before, but even if James and the other managers weren't falling over themselves to rush to his aid, I could still tell who he was. Dressed in an impeccably tailored charcoal grey suit, his dark brown hair is sprinkled with hints of grey. I'd guess him to be in his mid to late forties. If he's any older, his skincare routine should be studied and his plastic surgeon investigated for witchcraft. Two others follow him in, a man and woman, the woman somewhere in her thirties and the man a similar age to Mr. Hamilton. They're both dressed professionally and look around the bank critically.

Hazel eyes sweep the room while his face remains carefully neutral. Nate stutters over whatever he's talking with Jaxson about before he composes himself, straightening his posture. I don't know what to do so I just stare blankly at my computer monitor, trying my best to look busy as I type away on my login screen before backspacing and typing some more.

"Mr. Hamilton," James beams. "We are just so glad to have you here at our little branch. Can I get you anything to drink? My office is right this way," he says, trying to usher him and his associates away from the rest of us before we do something to embarrass him.

"No," he raises his hand to stop James in the middle of his speech. "I'd like to see for myself how things are running. Without preferential treatment," he adds dismissively when James offers to handle it.

Closing my eyes might be too much, so instead I hold my breath, hoping that he doesn't pick me. James' eyes are drilling holes into each and every one of us, promising retribution if we mess this up.

No such luck.

"Hello Calista," he says after taking a quick glance at my name. He pauses, his eyebrows scrunching together and his mouth ticks up at the side. "Ah yes, you're the one from that nasty robbery business. I knew that name sounded familiar. Glad to see you back at work and no worse for the ordeal."