Chapter 18
“It’s full ask or nothing,” I told the agent on the other end of the phone as I pressed the elevator button for the model penthouse. “And he can pick his hardware for the doors.” My ear ached from being glued to my cell since 7 a.m. Note to self: Check if radiation via cell phones is a real thing.
All of the other girls used AirPods to multi-task. I’d borrowed Tamica’s one morning, believing they may be a gamechanger for my type A personality, but not having a phone at my ear made me feel like I was talking to myself. I returned them after twenty minutes.
Upon entering Penthouse One of The Crystal, I stumbled over debris strewn across the seven-inch-wide oak planks. Scrunched-up napkins and leftover pieces of meat were visible in corners, and a red wine stain on the sixty-thousand-dollar couch almost made me drop to my knees.
Jack came around the corner, a small brush and shovel in hand. “Hi.”
I spun in a circle. “What the fuck?”
He bent down to sweep up in the living room, which would take all day with the doll-sized brush in his hand. This wasn’t Barbie’s Dreamhouse. It was an eight-thousand-square-foot palace.
“The cleaning crew decided to take off, it seems. Believe me, they will feel my wrath today.”
My lungs couldn’t expand enough to get the right amount of air. “David’s going to be here in ten minutes, and there’s a stain the size of Wyoming on the fucking couch,” I wheezed.
Jack’s cheekbones went gaunt as he sucked in air. “We’ll fix it.”
My arms waved like propellers in panic. “We don’t have time to fix it.”
I removed a mink blanket from the armchair and laid it over the stain. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I escaped to the primary suite and leaned my head on the huge glass window overlooking Central Park. As kids, Hailey taught me to count every breath when my anxiety flared up. I’d outgrown it, but times of stress still made me feel I was suffocating and drowning at the same time.
Hailey had always looked after me during an attack. She’d put me in bed and read stories from the magazines our foster mother couldn’t be bothered to recycle.
The click of the front door jolted me out of the memory. I rushed down the hall into the living room, avoiding Jack’s legs as he crawled along the floor, grabbing the biggest pieces of trash.
“Get that shit in the trash—and hide the brush,” I hissed as the click of expensive heels drew closer.
Jack stopped crawling. “What do you think I’m doing? Yoga?” With a cartoon-style leap, he grabbed the brush and bolted into the kitchen, out of view.
I cleared my throat in the hopes I wouldn’t squeak. “David, you’re early.”
He removed the hard hat he’d shoved over his two-hundred-dollar haircut and surveyed the room with eagle eyes. “My meeting finished, and I had a few things to check with the guys on the units downstairs.” His tone sounded jovial, with an underlying warning of “this better not be a waste of my time.”
Out the side of my eye, I clocked a random piece of hotdog bun in a corner. Fuckity fuck fuck. The cleaning company were going to receive a scathing Yelp review on my way back to the office. “Let’s get started then.” I led him toward the dining table in the southwest corner of the room. Far away from the bun and the ruined couch.
David’s eyes concentrated on the corners, angles, and the furnishings as we moved. Please don’t let him find a stray burger patty, or we’re done for.
“How did it go last night?” He shoved his hands deep into his Hugo Boss pants.
“Amazing,” Jack announced, walking through from the kitchen. “Morning, David.”
David checked his Tag watch. “You just get here?”
Jack slid next to me. “No, I had to take a call.”
“With an offer, I hope?” David moved a blue suede dining chair a millimeter closer to the table.
“Not yet.” Jack unbuttoned his suit jacket.
“We’ve gotten a ton of interest.” A muscle in my cheek twitched. “I have a broker speaking to their client about putting in an aggressive offer for a penthouse.”
“I told both of you—it’s full ask or nothing. No negotiating.” The top of his lip turned white, matching the curly hair poking out of his open shirt button. Unlike Jack’s, I wanted that shirt to remain closed from top to bottom.
The platinum rule of real estate dictated the client was always right. Multi-millionaire clients meant you pulled everything but gymnastic stunts to get them what they wanted.
“I understand, but we’re trying to set records with this building, and that takes—” I explained.
“I don’t appreciate when people promise what they can’t deliver,” David interrupted. “Makes me think they aren’t reliable.”
Feel free to jump in, Jack. “Honestly, I…”
David walked back toward the living room, and we followed like dutiful children. “It’s imperative in business that you follow through. That’s how I got to where I am.”
I nodded while my brain screamed, I’ll bet being a condescending dick helped.
His attention shifted to Jack. “After all your talk at our meeting, I expected to have at least ten offers this morning, or are you full of bullshit?”
Your turn, buddy, I gloated, keeping my lips tight.
Jack didn’t flinch. “I didn’t get to where I am by bullshitting.”
“I need this thing moving.” David paced around the coffee table, checking stocks on his phone. Round and round, past the offending stain. My nerve endings were on fire.
Then the blanket began to slide off the couch. I ran to stop it as David’s loafer caught hold of it full force, and it fell to the floor in an elegant heap.
In slow motion, Jack caught David, just as David’s eye caught the stain.
David righted himself and pushed off Jack’s arms to walk over and inspect it. “Tell me that’s not red wine. Or blood.”
“I think it’s wine.” I prayed I was right and a homicide hadn’t gone down in our absence. Although blood might be easier to remove than red wine. “The cleaners we used were new, and they missed this.”
Jack folded the blanket and returned it to the couch. “It’s not her fault.”
Why was he throwing himself under the bus? I tried to catch his attention, but he kept his eyes fixed on David. A tiny Lacey sat on my shoulder, telling me to use this to my advantage and bury Jack already. I put her on mute.
David looked thrown off by the admission. “So whose fault is it?”
Jack pointed a thumb at himself. “I hired the cleaners, and I didn’t stay until they were done. This is on me.” He walked over and stood beside me, and his aftershave permeated my nostrils, making things tingle that I did not want to tingle. “Scarlett didn’t know about it, but I’ll get them back today to fix it.”
David’s lips turned whiter. “If it can’t be fixed, the money is coming out of your commission.”
Jack nodded. “Of course.”
David’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the screen and declined the call. “Don’t make me regret hiring you both.”
Jack put an arm around my shoulder and gave it an awkward squeeze like we were brother and sister pretending to make up. “We won’t. We’re a team—right, Scarlett?”
I pulled a beauty-pageant smile, all teeth and no emotion. “Absolutely.”
David’s phone buzzed again, and this time he sighed. “I have to take this. Keep me updated.” Then he left, yapping down the hall until the door shut behind him.
Jack’s arm stayed around me, and I was too stunned to shrug it off. “Why did you do that?”
He gave me a hard pat on the back that made my crystal drop earrings shake. “Didn’t want you getting fired.”
“He could have fired you.”
He took a step away from me. “He wouldn’t do that. The guy loves me. And you seem like you need the money.”
My fingers moved to still my earrings. “It’s not about the money.”
He scoffed. “So you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”
“I’m doing it to make partner,” I told him. “And so my best friend doesn’t get fired.”
His perfect, straight nose scrunched. “Why would your best friend get fired?”
I tutted. “Because my boss pitted me and another agent against each other for partner. And the sociopath I work with would love nothing more than to kick her out along with me.”
“You mean Viv?”
“Yes. And she’s a single parent.”
He nodded. “That’s why you don’t want her to lose her job?”
I gulped down the lump swelling in my throat. “She’s family and one of only two people on Earth who get me.”
He rolled his eyes. “That sounds dangerous.”
Me opening up to you and giving anything away would be dangerous. It would be giving someone bullets for the gun. “So why did you come in and take the heat? I could have handled it.”
A curl of his full top lip made me squirm. “Because he was being a dick.”
“True.”
“And it’s not your fault,” he continued.
“Also true.”
“And I felt bad.”
“Not sure how true that is.” A flush crept up my neck, and I moved my collar to cover it.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t like me.”
“What makes you think I don’t like you?”
I pointed at him. “Your face.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll admit you rubbed me the wrong way at first.”
I wouldn’t mind rubbing him the right way. I took in the rippling veins in his strong hands. Down, girl. “I tend to do that.”
“Well, annoying or not, you didn’t deserve to take the blame for something I’m just as responsible for.”
“No, I don’t,” I agreed. “But thanks. I owe you.”
I didn’t like feeling beholden to people. I wanted to achieve everything on my terms, but like it or not, this guy had stuck up for me. Again.
The laugh came from his belly. “Is this your first time saying thank you? Cause you suck at it.”
“Is that how you compliment your girlfriends?”
He bent down to tie a lace on his brown suede shoes, exposing today’s choice of socks—bright yellow with tiny avocados. “Ex-girlfriends. You don’t need to compliment someone who’s in love with themself.”
I snorted. “New York is full of ’em. And kids on scooters.”
He stood back up. “You don’t like kids?”
“I like Viv’s kid.” I scratched at my wrist. “The rest not so much.”
“Guess I don’t have to worry about you going on maternity leave anytime soon.” He smiled.
“Absolutely not. Never.” Another scratch that almost drew blood. “I don’t want the responsibility of another human being. No judgement to people that have them. I just enjoy sleep, money, and being able to bathe without ten thousand questions from the other side of the door.”
“Fair enough. My mom told me I should date you cause it sounds like you talk about houses as much as I do.” His cheeks turned puce.
“You told your mom about me?” Why? What did you say? So many questions. Tell me everything.
He swayed on the balls of his feet. “I didn’t tell her so much about you. Just said I’d been working with someone who happened to be female.”
“And?” I pushed.
The swaying sped up. “And… who didn’t make me want to fling myself in front of a cab to escape her.”
If ever a competition for backhanded compliments existed, that would take the gold. But it was a compliment, nonetheless. I needed to get my day back on track, and being distracted by a gorgeous agent who could give as good as he got wasn’t on the agenda.
My phone trilled with a familiar ringtone, but I reached into my bag for my compact to touch up.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Jack stopped swaying, and my seasickness abated.
I dabbed at the sheen on my nose with the sponge. “Nope.”
“What if it’s a client who wants to buy twenty apartments?”
I clicked the compact shut and tossed it back in my bag. “It’s not. That ringtone is for Denzel.”
Jack chewed the inside of his cheek. “The ex from last night?”
“Yup. He’s becoming a bit… stalker-ish.”
His eyebrows knitted together. “You know stalkers are dangerous, right? Didn’t your mom teach you that?”
I pulled a pink lip gloss from my bag and twisted it open. “No, she did not. And he’s not the knife-wielding, letter-writing kind of stalker. He’s an annoyed one because I didn’t want to give him kids. Finding it hard to let go, I suppose.”
“That sounds… complicated.”
I ran the brush over my still lips. “Not at all. I’ve bruised his ego by not being devastated,” I snorted. “Classic narcissist. He’ll get bored.”
“Lucky escape then,” he said, rubbing the stubble on his jaw.
I dropped the tube back into my bag and smacked my lips together. “I better get back to the office.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
I smiled. “I know the way out. Go have lunch.” I walked away and then stopped. “And thanks again, for today.”
Don’t you start to not hate him, I warned my reflection in the elevator doors on the way down.