“Can I help you?” the receptionist at Anderson, Llewellyn and Stevens asked when he came into the office Friday night a few minutes prior to six. She flashed him a welcoming smile, but then frowned when her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall behind his head. “It’s getting rather late, did you have an appointment?”
“Yes. I’m here to see Mark Stevens.”
The receptionist, a pretty brunette, sat behind one of those big round credenza type desks that curved protectively from one end to the other. On either side were hallways, Drew assumed, that led to the rest of the firm. He vaguely recalled Nathan Llewellyn mentioning at the Memorial Day weekend barbecue that they’d remodeled much of the offices over the last month or two. Not that he’d ever been to the old offices.
Her fingers furiously
