Chapter 4
THE AGENT
CHLOE
Marie
Where the hell are you?
Better yet…Are you okay?
Jayla
Um…Why did Mr. Hudson single you out today?
Gil
Yooo…What the hell happened with you and Mr. Hudson today?
Isilenced my phone as the car came to a stop in a sea of darkness.
The back door opened before I could process what was happening.
“Take my hand, Miss Sterling,” a deep voice said as the lights flickered on and a collection of parked luxury cars came into view.
I obliged and grabbed the driver’s hand.
“I’ll go speak to the landscaping manager about next month,” the woman who’d offered me a drink said to Mr. Hudson. “Do you need me to do anything else while I’m here?”
“No, just call me before coming upstairs.”
“Will do.” She shot me a look I couldn’t quite read, and my stomach flipped as Mr. Hudson strolled toward me.
“Let’s go upstairs.” He gestured for me to walk forward, but I shook my head.
“I’m not making a request, Miss Sterling,” he said. “Start walking toward those blue lights ahead.”
“I will after I make a call.” I pulled out my phone. “I need to let my friend know exactly where I am.”
“Okay.” He looked amused. “Where are you?”
“Hoboken, New Jersey.”
“And the exact address?”
“I…” I didn’t finish my sentence; he had a point.
“I brought you here because this is where I prefer to discuss any problems I’m having in my company.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. “Okay.”
“Don’t make me ask you to start walking forward again.”
“Right.” I followed his instructions until I stepped onto an elevator.
He moved next to me and pressed his finger against the keypad, instantly forcing the doors to shut.
Thankfully, the doors weren’t mirrored, and I could get a break from our eyes meeting every few seconds.
As we rode up, the woodsy, spicy scent of his cologne wrapped around me so tightly it felt almost like being touched.
I couldn’t help fantasizing about how his body would feel on mine. How, if he leaned any closer and touched me, I might forget who he was and give in.
“Would you like me to buy you a bottle?” His deep voice made me look up.
“A bottle of what?”
“My cologne,” he said, smirking. “That way you won’t have to keep wondering what it would smell like if I leaned any closer to you…”
My cheeks burned, and I kept my gaze straight ahead.
Ding!
The elevator sounded, and I swear the doors were trying to embarrass me further by opening at an inch per hour.
When they finally gave way, Mr. Hudson cleared his throat.
“This is the only stop, Miss Sterling,” he said. “You can get off now.”
Nodding, I stepped into a marbled hallway and was lured to keep walking toward the panoramic windows that gave a stunning view of New York’s skyline.
“Wow.” I couldn’t help but say, “I would never leave if I lived here…”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” Mr. Hudson walked up behind me. “Thankfully, this one isn’t for sale.”
“For the record, I’m really sorry about what I did,” I said. “Like, using a luxury for personal reasons was wrong, and I’ll never do it again.”
“Are we talking about the shower part or the promising potential customers things you weren’t supposed to offer part?”
“Um, just that first one.”
“Oh?” He narrowed his eyes. “I think you mean both.”
“Yes. Sorry for both…”
“Since you seem to be on edge, let’s just handle this unfortunate situation now.” He pointed to a cream chaise, but I didn’t move to sit.
“I’d like to lay out your punishment,” he said. “It’s a more than fair way for you to pay me back for all the damages you caused.”
“What damages?”
“Let me finish.” He held up his hand. “Lucky for you, the man you sell properties under is one of the most generous men in this city.”
Since when? I bit my tongue.
“He’s decided not to press charges in exchange for your help with a project he’s pursuing,” he said. “How does that sound?”
“Sounds like he’s suddenly speaking in the third person.”
“You have one strike of sarcasm left with me…” He moved closer. “When I was looking through your background, I noticed you worked for a hometown candidate who was running for mayor. Is this true?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I was his campaign manager.”
“And somehow you helped him win, despite his sordid past and dating history, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Why aren’t you still working under him now?”
Because he lied about hiring me and left me hanging out to dry. And he still owes me a month’s worth of salary…
“I just decided to move on to something else,” I lied. “I’d rather bet on myself.”
“Hmmm.” He looked as if he didn’t believe me at all. “Well, luckily for you, I’m starting a much smaller campaign for something that’s not political, and I don’t have a sordid history.”
Just a cruel and ruthless one. I nearly yelped, biting my lip on that line.
He walked over to a stunning glass bookshelf and pulled out a leather folder. Then he handed it to me.
Engraved on its front was the outline of a building I knew all too well, and under it—in cursive—was its name: The Holden.
“I want to buy this building, and I need resident approval since I can’t get it directly from the mayor.”
That’s never happening…
“You’ll need to do whatever you did before on a much grander scale and make me come off kindhearted and like I actually care about people’s feelings so I can finally have it to myself.”
I blinked. “Don’t you have a million-dollar public relations team for this?”
“They’ve tried and failed for the past year,” he said. “I’m tired of waiting on them to fix my image.”
“Have you tried being a nicer person?” I asked. “Maybe going in that direction?”
“I’ll give you all the numbers to local leaders and influential people—” He waved off my questions as if they were beneath him. “You’ll wine and dine them for a few months and say whatever you have to say so they vote yes.”
“So, in exchange for me stealing one shower and making a few crazy offers to a very rich client, you want me to buy people’s votes?”
“First of all,” he said, his voice low, “you didn’t steal just one shower. We went through security footage at all my listings for the past year, and you were sneaking into my best condos at least three times a week.”
“I’m still very sorry…”
“Bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “And second of all, I’m not interested in buying anyone’s vote. I just want you to influence it.”
“You’ll draw out a plan for me, and then I’ll make sure you have the proper team and resources to execute it. If all goes well over the next six months, I’ll pretend like we never crossed paths. Any questions?”
“Yes, actually.” I stammered. “Quite a few.”
“I’ll settle for three.”
“How much are you going to pay me for helping you?” I asked. “I don’t make enough to do things for free.”
“Come again?”
“The mayor paid me for all my work—well, most of it,” I said. “I was working like ninety hours a week, and that was just for the image stuff. With what you’re asking for, it might be more.”
“Your payment is not spending time in prison for your extended track record of theft.”
“I’ll have to take my chances with a trial by jury then,” I said. “Or maybe we can work out a payment plan for like—the next twenty years?”
He blinked.
“Actually, since mortgages are like thirty years, can we use that time frame instead?”
“No. Have a seat, Miss Sterling.”
I didn’t move.
“Have. A. Seat.”
I finally lowered myself to the chaise and stared at the windows behind him.
“My eyes are over here, Miss Sterling,” he said. “Look at me.”
I slowly obliged, and as his eyes met mine, I was suddenly entranced and unable to focus on anything else.
“I’m not in the habit of paying people who are already in debt to me,” he said. “But since I’ve already made an exception in your case for punishment, I’ll make a second in this category as well.”
“Okay…”
“How much do you want me to pay you?”
“Enough to cover six months’ worth of expenses since I probably won’t be able to show any properties.”
“There’s no probably,” he said. “You’re banned from showing any of my listings for an entire year anyway, but I also need you to focus one hundred percent on me.”
“Okay, so…” I cleared my throat. “The same amount—six months of expenses.”
“Give me a number.” He leaned closer. “I don’t know how you live, so tell me what you cost…”
“You’re not buying me. You’re buying my work.”
“Same thing.” His lips curved into a smirk. “I still need a number.”
“I’ll need to calculate it first.”
“Can’t you do that on your phone?”
“Right.” I rummaged through my purse for it, still staring at him.
“Use it, Miss Sterling…”
“I’m trying to.”
As if he could tell his gaze was having a distracting effect on me, he walked away.
I let out a sigh of relief as I unlocked my screen.
Rent. Water. Electricity. Internet. Sewage. Phone bill. Netflix—oh no…I’m finally canceling them.
Seconds later, he handed me a chilled bottle of water before moving to a different couch.
I continued listing my expenses, feeling my eyes widen with every bill I added.
Groceries, coffee, and…How the hell have I been surviving?
“So?” He cleared his throat. “Do you have a number for me?”
A million dollars.
“Is that all?” he asked, and I realized I’d uttered that line aloud.
“I was still calculating,” I said. “I didn’t actually mean—Unless…Yes, a million dollars.”
“Okay,” he said, pulling a pen from his pocket. “One million dollars for six months of your time, and you’ll be at my beck and call as needed?”
Hell yes. “Yes.”
“Fair enough.” He scribbled something on a pad and slid it across the coffee table. “Write down your banking information and I’ll have my person handle it.”
“No, um…Can you do Cash App instead?”
“Cash what?” He stared at me like I’d started speaking another language.
“Okay, Venmo or PayPal then.” I pulled out a pen. “I’m not using a bank account right now—too many fees for low balances, and then certain companies always hit me with late penalties, you know?”
He gave me a blank stare.
“I have the same username for each one.” I reached for the pad. “I’m sure your person can figure it out.”
Shaking his head, he pulled out his phone and held it up to his ear.
“I need you to set up a bank account for a new employee today,” he said. “Can you also walk her through using one like a real adult before I make a significant deposit? Thank you.”
After hanging up, he stood and extended his hand to me.
“He’s on his way up to help you, and then one of my drivers will take you home,” he said. “I’ll call you when I’m ready for you to start.”
“I didn’t give you my phone number yet.”
“You didn’t need to,” he said, and a jolt of heat rushed through my body as his hand touched mine.
He slowly stepped back, his gaze dragging over me one last time before he finally turned away.
My heart raced in anticipation of getting paid, and minutes later one of his henchmen arrived with a briefcase.
“This won’t take longer than twenty minutes, Miss.” He smiled at me. “Let’s get this handled, shall we?”