“Yes, you’ll need to pardon me on that. I’m new to the firm and am still waiting on my cards. But Austin and Jerrold have sent me here to discuss urgent business with Edward Hanson. It’s pertaining to his late father’s last will and testament.” Until he added the last bit, he was sure he might meet with a similar but more insistent response than a moment ago. Possibly the direction accompanied by a pointed finger telling him where to go…
“You say this is about the will for Timothy Hanson?”
“Yes, and it’s a rather urgent and unexpected matter too. Hence, no appointment and why I just showed up.”
“I’ll need to call up to the house. One minute.” The guard retreated into the gatehouse.
Joe watched as he lifted the receiver to his ear and spoke. The guard didn’t turn his way once but was staring at the business card he’d given him.
A few minutes later, the guard pushed his head back out the door. “You can go on ahead. Someone will meet you at the front door and take you to Mr. Hanson.”
“Wonderful. Thank you, and have a great day.” He smiled again, but it was wasted on the guard, who opened the gates and paid him no further attention.
As Joe drove through the extravagant property, imposter syndrome took over.You don’t belong here… You’re in over your head.The judgments were slung from his inner critic, who took advantage of any opportunity to tear him down. Familiar, making it more friend than foe, it still flushed him with a batch of nervous energy. For good reason. This was where thesuper-rich and elite diplomats were entertained, and he hardly belonged. To make things more stressful, he was going to come face to face with the man who had inherited a financial empire. As Timothy Hanson’s sole heir, Edward was worth somewhere in the billions of dollars.
Joe parked and walked to the front door where a man in a suit opened the door for him.
“Hello. Joe Buckley from Walton Crane. I’m here to see Edward Hanson.”
“This way.” The man turned to lead him through the expansive home while Joe followed close behind. There was a bulge beneath the man’s jacket. He was carrying.Armed for war…Though a man like Hanson would need to take precautions.
The architecture imitated European styling with its ornate scrollwork on the walls and ceilings adorned with bulky beams and large chandeliers. He based his assessment on what he’d seen on TV. It wasn’t like he had money to travel the globe, or even leave the DC area. He barely had enough money to eke out a living in Washington.
As they approached a sunken room, Joe caught sight of Edward Hanson sitting on a large, curved sectional, a newspaper in hand. Unlike the larger-than-life persona in the media, the man was less impressive in person. He was small and of short stature. The hair on his head was lush and brown, and at only forty years of age, gray hadn’t set up roots. Unless he paid to have it colored.
“Mr. Hanson, this is Joe Buckley with Walton Crane,” the suit said.
Edward set his paper aside, looking up for the first time. “What is this about my father’s will? I thought everything has been discussed and settled already.”
Joe’s heart ticked up speed as his shoulders sank to the earth.You don’t have it in you…But that’s where the voice had it wrong. He would do what he was here to do. “There is just one small thing, a minor oversight.”
“An oversight?”
“That’s right, sir. It shouldn’t take too long to address. It does, however, involve your entire family. If they are here…?”
Edward glanced at the security guy, then gave a brisk dip of his head. The man set off into the home.
“He’s gone to fetch them. Though I must admit I’m quite curious how a discussion of my father’s will affects my wife and children.”
Joe pulled out his smile again, but it had less effect on Edward than his employees. “You’ll soon see.” The man hadn’t bothered to offer him a seat or something to drink. It was like the manners of the super wealthy were nonexistent unless around their peers. At least he’d been right to assume the family would all be housebound this close to their patriarch’s death.
“Hmm.” Edward sank farther into the couch and picked up his paper again. “You can sit wherever you are comfortable.” It was barely a cohesive mumble, a meager toss-away invitation as if the man were grudgingly tolerating him.
“Thank you, but if it’s all right with you, I would prefer to stand.” A lie. He’d love to sit and get comfortable, but he said this would be a quick meeting. He intended to make Edward believe that.
Several minutes later, a woman with long red hair swept into the room wearing a silk lounge set. The material was so thin, it fluttered in the breeze made by her lithe strides. “Edward?”
“Just sit. This shouldn’t take long.” Edward peeked over his paper, doing so obviously, not even worried that his statement and tone would be seen as rude.
The woman, who Joe recognized as the missus, Ashley Hanson, turned her gaze on him and sized him up.
“Joe Buckley, ma’am, with your family’s law firm. Nice to meet you.” He dipped his head.
Ashley turned from him, looking at the back of her husband’s paper. “Why didn’t Austin or Jerrold come?”
“Good question.” Edward set his paper down again and drilled Joe with a look.
“I promise I will get to that.”
