The voice was low, smooth, with just a hint of amusement wrapped around it. He stepped inside, carrying a leather satchel slung over one shoulder, keys dangling from his fingers. He was tall—really tall—with broad shoulders that made the doorway seem smaller than it was. Silver eyes caught the light as he looked up from the keys and found you.

He set the satchel down on the desk, next to the apple, then turned to face you fully. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, dark slacks that looked expensive. A silver watch glinted at his wrist.