Page 8 of The Lawyer
“Late is not a good look on anyone.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” I leave off the point that I was waiting for him. And that if he actually said more than one or two words to me, I’d be much better prepared to be the efficient assistant I am.
We travel through London traffic to the first apartment. It’s my least favourite of the ones we’re viewing, but the closest to the office. The car ride is in silence as Mr Broderick stares out of the window. My phone vibrates in my hand with various messages, but the tension is so stiff I can’t bring myself to move and read them.
“Can I call you Landon? If we’re going to be working together for the next year, it may help break the ice, so to speak?”
His brow furrows deeper, eyes still cast away from me. “If you must, Miss Etherington.”
Shit!Why? Why did I have to do that?
We pull up outside the converted Georgian building. I greet the sales assistant in the lobby, and she kindly escorts us up in the lift. Landon looks less than impressed at the entrance, and I hope that the apartment fairs better.
“Let’s take a look around shall we,” says the preppy little woman. She beckons us into the room as if she’s showing off the Crown Jewels. The photographs online gave the impression of ample space and modern interiors, which is why I shortlisted it. The reality is far from that. It’s dull, and despite the price tag, even I can see before going further into the apartment that this isn’t the space for Landon.
He takes maybe thirty seconds to view the main rooms before he’s marching back towards me. “Why is this even on the list?” he hisses, as he passes me and leaves. I roll my eyes and turn to follow after him, hoping I haven’t blown any chance of making a good impression with him.
Although, I’m sure that ship has already sailed.
“Excuse me, excuse me," calls the sales assistant after us. I hear Landon on the stairs as I pause in front of the lift and turn to deal with Miss Preppy.
“I’m afraid it’s a no. Thank you for your time here. We’ll meet your colleague at the next property.”
After gambling with taking the lift, I exit into the lobby and see Landon already heading to the car. His entire aura makes me take a deep breath and square my shoulders as if going into battle. I attempt to catch up with him, take the car door and slip in next to him.
“I’m sorry, Mr Broderick. If you’d like to review the folder for the next two properties before we arrive?” Now isn’t the time to be calling him his first name.
“That won’t be necessary.”
He casts his gaze towards the window as if he holds the weight of the world on his shoulders. I’d have expected to see his phone or tablet glued to his hand during these downtimes—he’s busy all the time—but he seems content, at least, to be quiet.
Of course, the quiet isn’t something I can cope with, and words bubble up in my throat if only to break the oppressive silence.
“The next viewing is a more modern option. Large master bedroom. Spacious.”
“I’ve seen the files, Miss Etherington.”
“Well, that’s good to know. However, if you didn’t like the Georgian one, we could have swapped that out and saved the visit,” I counter.
He doesn’t provide an answer, so, with the thaw that’s set in, I set about checking my emails as we wind our way to the next address.
Much like the first, a smartly dressed, overly smiley girl meets us in the lobby. This time, it’s in a more modern building, all glass and black frames. She leads us up the stairs to the third floor and opens the door to apartment option number two.
“This property already has a lot of interest. Three beds, three baths, well-appointed, top of the range …” she trails off as Landon heads in and looks around the entryway that leads to the living and dining area.
I follow tentatively, ready for another quick decision and part unable to take my gaze off his frame. It’s almost as captivating as the scenery outside, in all honesty, which makes me check my irrational behaviour and look outside instead.
My heels echo on the gleaming wood floor as I take in the views across the Thames. It’s all glossy in here and brand new, or at least looks that way. The muted tones of the furnishings are set off by striking vivid colours designed to provide contrast. Pretty. Sort of. And as the minutes tick on, my initial sense of dread coming in here starts to shift more positively.
“No.” He glides right past me, one hand in his pocket and his gaze directed at the door and nowhere else.
“Have you seen the master bedroom?” I call after him.
The sales rep looks mortified, and I offer a tight smile in condolence.
“You have a lot of interest, right?” I say in parting.
Seems the viewing is done.
