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

Chapter 49- Callie

I was right about the furniture being pretty but slightly uncomfortable. Just enough to have a person second guessing themselves if it's the furniture or them. I'm sure there's some well-researched reason the Hamiltons, or better yet their interior designer, chose it. They seem like the type of people where everything is carefully chosen for a purpose. I've yet to see anything so far to indicate anything about who they really are.

Every detail here is visually perfect and impersonal, more like a museum than a family home. Still, I find myself taking it all in as I wait patiently. Normally I'd pull out my phone to scroll through social media or play some mind-numbing mobile game, but I just know that would end up being the moment I'm called for. It would ruin the professional persona I'm trying to project.

"Mr. Hamilton is ready to see you now," the butler calls out. The man moves like a ghost and it's unsettling.

"Jesus," I startle, clutching at my bracelet from where I stand looking at the family portrait. The guys insisted I wear it once I turned down bringing their phone with me.

I'd never really seen the Hamilton children much. Moving away from Bells as soon as I was able was part of it, but they were younger than me. His son was four years my junior and his daughter seven years younger. Our paths had no reason to cross. Thank goodness. I've heard they were holy entitled terrors; had teachers to afraid to discipline them. They're a good-looking family, the son clearly taking after his mother's blond hair and blue eyes while his daughter looks like a female version of her father. Same chestnut brown hair and hazel eyes. Makes me wonder what I would look like all painted up like a museum portrait and if I'd come across as elegant.

"My apologizes, Ms. Danvers. If you'll follow me," he indicates with his arm and turns to lead the way.

I pat myself down, doing my best to smooth out any wrinkles I earned sitting down or on the drive and give myself a quick mental pep talk.

More lavish interiors greet me as I follow along until I'm waiting in front of a heavy wooden door that I would imagine belonging more to the headmaster of some fancy private school than someone's personal home office. Three raps on the door and I can hear Mr. Hamilton's voice ushering me in.

Deep breaths, girl. You got this.

Mr. Hamilton's office looks bigger on the inside. Warm wood, full floor to ceiling bookshelves lining one wall, and more art. Though the pieces in here look like he personally selected them. A realistic landscape of the Hamilton estate, an old black and white photo of what I can only assume is several generations back grandparents on what I'd guess is the same land, with a humbler version of the current house, and a small portrait of a woman with long brunette hair and dark eyes. I find myself drawn to it, stepping closer to inspect it before the man himself clears his throat.

"I'm sorry," I quickly spill out, looking around before taking a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his large ornate desk. The thing is likely older than either of us and twice as heavy.

"It's fine," he smiles warmly, waving away my apology. "Are you comfortable? I can have Michael grab something for you to drink if you'd like. Tea, coffee, water, or soda," he chuckles to himself as he wanders over to the small bar cart in the corner of his office and pours himself two fingers of some decanted brown liquor. "I'd offer you something stronger, but I know you have a fair bit of driving ahead of you." He pauses before adding, "though I'd be more than willing to have you put up in one of the rooms downtown in case you need to rest before driving back home. It's only fair since I insisted on having this meeting here instead of in Gremory."

My eyes follow him around the room until he settles into his high-backed leather chair. Looks more like a throne. Probably to intimidate those sitting in front of him. I can confirm it does.