Chapter 5 #2
“Make yourself at home,” I grumble as she reaches for a mint from the bowl on the coffee table.
Two leather armchairs and a leather couch huddle around the coffee table. While the couch is backed against the outer wall, the two chairs opposite it have a view out the large windows that line that side of my office.
I head straight for the bar cart behind my desk, pouring myself a drink. Lifting the glass, I shake my head, then add another shot’s worth.
Maybe I should just drink straight from the bottle.
“Can I have one?” Tracy calls from her chair.
“No.”
She lets out a little puff of air, that tiny sound of defeat the most satisfying thing to come out of her mouth today. Until I turn around and see her pink tongue peek out as she plops that mint into her mouth.
I take a sip of the liquor, savoring the burn down my throat, before heading back toward the devil in an angel’s body sitting in my office.
I sit opposite her on the couch, and cross an ankle over my knee. “Since you insist on staying, you have five minutes to make your proposition.” I hate that I’m even conceding that much. “And when I turn you down, you’ll leave this office and never step foot in it again.”
“Or what?” she taunts.
“Or what?” The woman is either delusional or has balls of steel for calling me out like this. I can’t decide which, so I slide a cold expression over my face and lie. “Or I’ll have a restraining order placed against you.”
“Hmmm,” she seems to consider. “Can’t say the stalker vibe would really look good on me, but it doesn’t matter, anyway, because you’ll be agreeing with my deal before I leave here today.”
Good lord, what the hell did I do for the universe to deal me this shit today?
I fight not to audibly sigh. “Four minutes and thirty seconds,” I say instead.
Tracy sits up straighter in her chair, her eyes wide with excitement as she says, “Okay, here’s the deal. I just passed my real estate exam, so I need—”
“Hold up,” I put a hand up, stopping her already. “You just got your real estate license?” She nods. “Are you here to try to work for me as a realtor?”
“Yes. And—”
“And you have zero experience.”
“Yes, but—”
“And you are somehow trying to spin this as a scenario where I’m working for you?” Yeah, she’s definitely delusional.
“Yes, like I said, I’d be like your protégé.” She grins widely at me, like somehow, this all makes sense.
“And how the hell are you spinning that as me working for you?” I take another sip of my whiskey. And another. I’m going to need a refill soon.
“I want to hire you. To train me.” She sinks back in her chair and crosses her legs. I try not to notice how tan and smooth they are. Or the pink nail polish on her toes.
“But what you really want is for me to bring you on as a realtor, with zero experience, to one of the top real estate brokerages in the country. One that I’ve only allowed fifteen other agents into in the last five years.”
“Yes,” she chirps, that bright smile plastered on her face again.
I shake my head incredulously. “And how does this benefit me?”
“Like I said, I’d be hiring you to mentor me, so I’d pay you.
” She brushes her hair behind her shoulder.
“Okay, not really hiring you, because I can’t exactly afford to pay you anything.
But I’d be willing to split my commission fifty-fifty with you for as long as you think is fair to cover the extra time of training me. ”
“I still don’t see the benefit,” I tell her, and at her quizzical look, explain, “I have zero need for additional income. I have zero need for additional realtors. And I have absolutely no need for a realtor without any experience.” I stand up and walk to the door.
“This brokerage has a reputation of experience and wealth, and you have neither of those.”
“But—”
I gesture to the door. “You gave your pitch, and I’m not interested. Go to one of the franchises. They love new realtors.”
Tracy sinks further back into her chair and crosses her arms, her body angled toward me. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?”
“Yes, now leave.” I gesture to the door again for emphasis.
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“No.” She studies her fingernails—also painted pink—like she has nothing better to do right now than drive me up the fucking wall.
“I’ve done my research on you, Blake. I know you have a reputation to uphold.
You’re a man who stops at nothing to get a deal done.
Your entire brokerage is built on luxury and wealth.
You expect nothing but success. You work with the elite of DC—some of the most powerful people in the country, and you won’t find anyone better to service those people than me. ”
I throw back the rest of my drink and cross my arms over my chest. “And what makes you say that?”
“Because I don’t take no for an answer.” She flashes me that big, beautiful smile again.
I swear this woman is going to give me a migraine.
She rises from the chair, sauntering over to where I’m planted by the door. “Three months. Give me three months to prove myself. And if for any reason you aren’t satisfied by then, I’ll leave—no questions asked.”
I study her for a moment, this barefooted ray of fucking sunshine, and finally say, “Whitney will send you all the paperwork. Be here at eight tomorrow.”
Tracy gives me another wink, like she knew this was the inevitable outcome from her visit, before leaving my office and disappearing down the hallway. When she’s out of sight, I finally close the door and sink down into my desk chair.
I have no idea what the hell I just got myself into, but Tracy was right about one thing: meeting her was fucking transformative.
Tracy
When I’ve disappeared around the corner and Blake’s office door is no longer at my back, I let my shoulders slump and release the longest breath in all of mankind.
That did not go the way I wanted it to. I didn’t expect Blake to be so cold. Or stubborn. Or maybe it’s just that my charm isn’t as flattering as I think it is. Either way, I didn’t anticipate that it would be that hard to convince him to take a chance on me.
But at least I got the result I wanted—kind of. Three months isn’t a lot of time to prove myself, but I was afraid he’d say no if I suggested anything longer than that, and I was running seriously short on ideas by the end of that conversation.
“Well?” Whitney asks from behind her desk, her fingers absentmindedly toying with a small bouquet of white peonies in the corner.
I pull my frayed nerves back into the deepest recesses of myself and flash her a smile, portraying all that confidence I’m known for but not feeling at all right now. “I have a three-month trial. Though, I must admit, he’s much more of an asshole than I thought he’d be.”
Maybe it’s not the best idea to be so candid with one of Blake’s employees, but I’ve never been one to hide what I’m thinking.
“You have no idea,” she says. “He was a nightmare to grow up with.”
I arch a brow at her and she laughs before standing behind her desk and extending a hand to me. “Whitney Frenshaw. Blake’s younger sister.”
“Ohhh.” I can’t hide my cringe as I take her hand. “Sorry to insult your brother. Granted, even if I knew about the family connection, I probably would have said the same thing.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him.” She gives me a sly look, and I instantly know we’re going to hit it off. With Riley living in Utah now, I could use another girlfriend to hang out with. Maybe it will be Whitney.
“I kind of already did,” I admit. “So, it won’t come as a surprise to him.”
“So, you insulted him, and he still agreed to bring you on?” She puts her hands on her hips and looks at me like I just said water isn’t wet.
“Yes? Is that surprising? He said I’m not the first person to call him that.”
“You’re not. But you are the only one to say it and walk away unscathed, it would appear.” She lifts a curious brow at me. “You might be good for him. He could use someone who’s not afraid to challenge him on things.”
“I take it he’s used to getting his way,” I muse.
“He is,” she confirms. “But I can’t say it hasn’t been to his benefit. For all his flaws, he’s a hell of a businessman, an amazing brother—usually—and he always does what he thinks is best for those he loves. So, I guess I shouldn’t fault him for being bullish with things.”
Huh, so he does have a heart buried in there somewhere. Maybe I can dig it out of him, dust it off a little.
“Well, I’d hate to disappoint,” I tell Whitney, “so I’ll be sure to challenge him at every turn.”
Whitney laughs before handing me two business cards. “Here’s both of our contact information. I need your phone number and an email address to send your paperwork to.”
I take the cards and rattle off all my contact info for her, then put my shoes back on and grab my bag from the couch.
I’ve barely even made it to my car when my phone vibrates with a text message.
Unknown
I forgot I have a meeting in the morning. Meet me at my office at ten.
I grin to myself. Not even day one and I have him frazzled, because Blake doesn’t strike me as the type to forget about meetings.
After adding all his contact info to my phone, I send off a quick reply.
Me
If it’s a client meeting, I’d love to sit in on it. See you in action
Blake
No. 10:00. Don’t be late.
Me
You’re no fun
Blake
I’m loads of fun, sunshine. Just not with you
I stare at his last text. I can’t tell if he’s flirting with me or insulting me. Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it. Though I can’t say I’d be upset if he was flirting. He’s the stereotypical tall, dark and handsome, and I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t attractive.
But he’s broody as hell. Granted, that’s not something I can’t fix.
Getting into my car, my confidence back in full force, I can’t wait to go head to head with Blake again tomorrow.