Around 2PM
Landon Albert was well aware that the last place Jamison Hildred wanted him was at this barbecue in Hildred's own backyard. It wasn't like Jamison had a choice in the matter, though. Landon had a few people he wanted to speak to and this was the most convenient place to do it.
Landon smiled to himself, eyes sharp behind his aviator sunglasses as he strolled through the yard. He saw the looks, took not of the averted gazes. He wasn't liked, and he knew it. But who needed to be liked when you were the one in charge?