“Instead of a loud, chaotic atmosphere, smelling of chemicals and metal, what she and Eric walked into felt like the heart of an expensive hotel. Thick carpet, soft furniture, and what looked like original artwork on the ivory-painted walls. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with gray hair curling gently around her face, sat behind a heavy wooden desk, wearing a headset. The name tent on the desk said, “Gloria.”Her face lit up when Eric walked in. “Mr. Eric! So good to see you. What brings y...ou here today?” As she spoke she rifled through her appointment calendar. “I don’t see you down for anything. Was someone to meet you in your office?”His office?Eric’s face reddened, and he avoided Casey’s eyes. “No, I was…is Mr. Willems in?”Not his father, Casey noticed. But Mr. Willems.The woman checked her phone console. “He’s on a call right now, but he should be off soon, and he doesn’t have anything else until the end of the day. I’ll let his assistant know you’re here.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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