Jefferson's POV
I glanced at my watch, watching the second hand tick forward. Waiting had never bothered me before. Years of discipline had taught me the art of patience, but recently everything seemed to scrape against my raw nerves. The last thing I needed was another source of irritation, and I knew Halle was about to provide exactly that.
The office door opened with a soft creak. My latest personal assistant, nervous energy radiating from her small frame, peered inside. "Mr. Harding, your four o'clock appointment has arrived."
I nodded curtly. She fled without waiting for a response, and moments later Halle swept into my office as if she owned every inch of it. I observed her carefully, taking in the understated clothing and the subtle air of menace she carried like a second skin. She never had to announce her nature as a witch. Her presence spoke volumes, whispering warnings that most people were too naive to hear until it was far too late.
