“Yes. I’m self-employed so I’m dependent on clients paying me. I just need a month until I get a payment I’m waiting on.”
“I understand that, Mr O’Reilly—Hunter—but you’ve missed the last two mortgage payments. When we tried to take them again, they defaulted and now you’ve got two penalty payments to pay too.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
His expression grows tense and his eyes harden. When he’s not smiling or looking smouldering, he’s an intimidating man. Tall, wide shoulders, definitely a bad boy. Lines of muscle fill out the dark T-shirt underneath his jacket.
“If you’d have come to us before the missed payments, we could have arranged something.”
“That’s all very well, but I didn’t know I was going to miss them.”
“Yes—”
“Look, I’ve made all my payments up until these past two. I’ve never had any problems. I’ve got a payment coming in and I’ll be all caught up. I just need a month.”
“Do you have anything to say that this money will be coming in? An invoice or anything?”
“No, not at the moment.”
“Can you put one together? What is it you do?” I glance at the screen. “Investigations?” That puts a knot in my throat until I remind myself he’s not investigating me. Why would he care what I did in the past?
“Yes, and some security work. It pays well usually, as you can probably see.”
“Hunter, the bank’s policy is to look at repossession as a last resort. We don’t want to make anyone homeless and it’s costly. We’d far rather get the payments and with customers who have a credit rating, we are normally happy to offer payment holidays, but with these missed payments—”
“Are you saying I’m going to lose the house?”
I exhale slowly. “No, I’m not saying that, but we need some kind of proof that you will be able to catch up on payments.”
He runs a hand through his hair again, burying his fingers in those lush curls. I clench my hands until my nails bite into my palms.
Hunter sighs. “What do you need?”
“Some proof of incoming payment. Preferably from the source.”
“Right.” He nods. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Great.” I let loose a smile and his eyebrows dip. I’m not sure why but he looks confused by me. “We could also look into switching you temporarily to an interest only mortgage. Is that something you might consider?”
The line between his brows deepens. “No, I don’t need that. I can make the payments. I just need a month.”
“I understand, but if you need to consider other options, we can go over them. I’m happy to offer advice. As I said, it’s not in our best interests to repossess.”
“Sure.” He stands, towers over me.
I gulp. “Is there anything else I can do for you today, Mr—Hunter?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“If you could make another appointment with reception, in—a week’s time?—and bring the letter from your client, then we can arrange your mortgage holiday.”
“Can I get your number?” he asks abruptly. “If I need advice,” he explains.
“You can always phone me here.” I gesture to the phone on my desk.
“Do you have a card?”
He’s got me there. I pull out a card and hand it over. It has a mobile number on it. The bank likes us to be available to customers and provide a phone. It’s the only one I have now as it saves me a little money not having personal one.
Hunter’s lips twitch and he eyes the card. “Great. See you soon.”
With that, he turns and I find myself watching the way his jeans cup his ass when he strolls away. A flip-flopping sensation in my stomach forces me to clench my arms around it. Why am I ridiculously excited about him having my number? He can’t like me, not after I looked like a total idiot and then threatened to take his house away. And I definitely don’t like him. Having a man in my life is not for me. I learned that the hard way.
The phone on my desk rings and I snatch it, silently hoping it might be the gravelly lilt of Hunter—even though he’s only just stepped out of the building.
“Hello, Jessica Callahan.”
Silence.
“Hello?” I swallow. This isn’t the first silent call I’ve had since starting work at the bank. I’d put it down to a fault or pocket dial if you didn’t have to go through reception or have my direct number which only customers gets. Like Hunter.
Must stop thinking about that man. He’s too gruff and intimidating.
And sexy.