Sorry it took so long to get another post up.
Polka dots? Eliot wondered before shaking off the thought and focusing on the task at hand. "I'm in."
Hardison was still talking in the background. Something about short numbers. The hitter glanced out the large picture window as he listened, but whatever it was, Hardison wasn't going into any detail.
It was just as well, as he turned his attention to the other three seats that made up the waiting area left of the front door. Cheap and plastic. None any better than the one he was sitting in.
The front of the Home Keepers' offices was made up of two large front windows, one on each side of the front entrance, both hidden by white blinds. No barricades. To the right of the entrance was a large desk that was framed on one side with a tall grey file cabinet. Just enough room for the little brunette behind the desk to come and go. The rest of the storefront was truncated by a dark, blue-painted wall with a single, white door. An Employees Only sign was crookedly placed about eye level on the door. Metal with a solid core, Eliot suspected.
The desk was overloaded with paperwork and Anna, according to the wooden placard that sat precariously close to the edge, didn't seem all that interested. She twisted her dark ringlets with her finger as she stared down at the book tucked behind the desk.
Every now and then, she would glance up and smile.
He quietly returned the smile and leaned back in the chair, the plastic popping and groaning with his movement. An earlier walk around the exterior block of buildings showed Home Keepers held the entire length to the back of the building. A service door in the alley. The real offices, were hidden by the dark wall.
Muffled laughter. The sound of a door closing and a moment later, the white door opened and two women stepped out.
"I think it's more than senility. She's insane," one of the ladies said as they passed through, waving to the young woman behind the desk and leaving without giving Eliot a second look.
"It's Stephanie," the young woman at the desk said after the door had closed and the place had fallen silent again. She leaned forward and propped her elbow on the desk's edge. There was a smattering of freckles across her honey complexion. She glanced toward the name placard. "I don't know who Anna was. She wasn't here when I started. It just felt wrong to throw it out." She picked through some papers on her desk and then looked back at Eliot. "You interviewing for that maintenance opening? Mr. Lumis is really picky," she added with a roll of her eyes and a flick of a finger that sent a dark curl back from her face.
Eliot was about to respond, but paused when he caught the subtle shift of her gaze toward the door, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching from the back of the office. The metal door swung open, and Stephanie rolled her chair back a short distance from the desk even as she buried her book under a stack of papers in front of her.
"Where's Lauren?" the tall man asked.
Stephanie, softer in tone, said, "She's at a client meet and greet, Mr. Lumis." A beat. "Your one o'clock has been waiting." She grabbed a pen off the desk and focused on writing some note; she never raised her eyes to the man again.
Eliot stood, keeping his posture loose and unassuming when Paul approached and introduced himself. When they shook hands, the hitter noted the watch on Paul's wrist, but didn't linger on it as it wasn't the one that went missing from Bernard. "Noah Westerly," he said with a friendly grin.
"Let's head back to my office," Paul said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes and headed to the open door.
As Eliot followed, he heard the desk chair shift and looked back at Stephanie. She mouthed, "Good luck."
A long, straight corridor that was well lit and ended at a heavy door that looked to open into the alley. The first room on the right had an open door to a break room with a small kitchenette. Smelled of old coffee. The next was a restroom. To his left, a closed wooden door with a fogged glass window and gold lettering that simply read: Administrator. The door across the hall was much like the first, except without the title.
Like most of the office, the door, and accompanying frame were old and wooden and buried under myriad layers of paint. Paul shoved it opened causing the hinges to squawk.
Closing the door behind them, Paul motioned to the chair in front of the desk. As he took his own seat behind the desk, he began, "You'll have to forgive the state of our offices. The need for our services and the clientele list is expanding, but it seems we have little time to worry about our own house."
Eliot got comfortable in the role offering small talk and easily answering questions about his qualifications in minor contract work.
"I was beginning to think no one qualified would answer our ads," Paul said as he flipped through Eliot's mostly fabricated resume.
"And you can thank me for that," Hardison chimed in. "The ad was already in the paper. Had been for almost two months. Anyway, I had to redirect—"
"Shut it," Eliot growled through clenched teeth.
"I feel so under appreciated."
Eliot shifted his attention back to Paul just as the man pushed the resume to the side. "You're not local."
"How'd you guess?" A little self mocking as Eliot made no effort to diminish his native drawl.
Paul laughed and leaned back in his chair. The move wasn't casual. "So what brings you to our fine community?"
"It started with a girl."
Paul gave a sympathy wince. "That's pretty dangerous."
Eliot nodded. "I'm not arguing there." When the other man looked back at the resume and between questions of his competence in repair work, Eliot gave the room a look over. There wasn't much to it save for the safe in the corner, masked by a leafy plant that looked starved for real sunlight.
Leaning forward in his chair, Eliot pressed his elbows to his knees and entwined his fingers. After a long moment, he looked up at the man across the desk. Desperation. "This is the first interview I've had in weeks. I need this job."