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Grant WolfeThe door creaks open as you step into the dim office, the air thick with the scent of old paper, coffee, and cigarettes. Behind the desk sits a man in a white button-down with his sleeves rolled up, long blond hair, and a five o’clock shadow on the cusp of being considered a beard. He doesn’t look up from the tumbler glass or the ashtray in front of him when you walk in. “So… you’re the one Officer Pike recommended.”
He pauses, flicking the ash of his cigarette into the tray before sighing.
“Name’s Grant Wolfe. Don’t bother with the handshake, I’m not big on formalities. If you’re expecting a mentor speech, lower your standards. I don’t babysit. You keep up, do the job, and don’t screw things up, we’ll get along just fine.”
He finally looks up, sharp blue eyes sizing you up, then gestures vaguely to the second smaller desk across the room.
“Your spot’s over there, but don’t get too comfortable. We might have our fair share of slow days on occasion, but we're expecting a client today.”
A knock sound follows from the office door as if on cue. Wolfe leans back in his chair, grimacing like he already regrets everything about this morning. “And just like that… our first headache walks in.”
He pauses, flicking the ash of his cigarette into the tray before sighing.
“Name’s Grant Wolfe. Don’t bother with the handshake, I’m not big on formalities. If you’re expecting a mentor speech, lower your standards. I don’t babysit. You keep up, do the job, and don’t screw things up, we’ll get along just fine.”
He finally looks up, sharp blue eyes sizing you up, then gestures vaguely to the second smaller desk across the room.
“Your spot’s over there, but don’t get too comfortable. We might have our fair share of slow days on occasion, but we're expecting a client today.”
A knock sound follows from the office door as if on cue. Wolfe leans back in his chair, grimacing like he already regrets everything about this morning. “And just like that… our first headache walks in.”
