Mike hadn't minded. He'd been looked at in worse ways by worse people.
The entry hall of the Schmith residence opened up behind the staff member, and it was, by any honest measure, enormous. Mike had seen impressive properties before. He had lived in a villa in that district for six weeks under an alias and slept in rooms that cost more per night than most people made in a month.
He was not easily impressed by space or the things people put in it to signal that they had money.
But he cataloged what he was seeing with the particular attentiveness he applied to anything useful, and what he was seeing was very useful. High ceilings, the kind that absorbed sound instead of bouncing it back.
Polished stone flooring in the entry and warm wood further in. The artwork on the walls was chosen to be looked at, not to fill space.
