Chapter 17
Tracy
“You little chicken.”
Craig and I look up from our laptops to find Whitney standing in the doorway of the office we’re working in. She’s got her arms crossed, hip popped, and accusatory eyes laser focused on me.
“You think I haven’t noticed that you have yet to come up to Blake’s office this week?” she asks. “Or that you brought your own candy bars to bribe Craig?”
Craig grabs the half-eaten Snickers between us on the desk and pops the rest of it in his mouth, a big grin on his face.
Okay, so maybe I’ve been avoiding Blake all week. And consequently, Whitney, because I haven’t gone up to the second floor at all. In fact, I’ve been avoiding it like the plague. I’m honestly surprised I made it to Thursday before seeing either of them.
Each morning, I dart through the front door and straight back to this office to find Craig, candy bar in hand and questions on my tongue.
He’s been more than happy to let me just sit in here and work with him, peppering him with questions as I pour over forms and contracts and try to figure out how the hell to start getting clients.
“He won’t let you avoid him forever,” she goes on. “I don’t know what happened after we left the bar Friday night, but he’s been crawling out of his skin ever since.”
“Can we not talk about this right now?” I gesture to Craig.
Craig throws his hands up. “Hey, I’m a vault. Discretion is my middle name.”
“So, did you two work things out?” Whitney asks, plopping down into the chair beside me and rubbing her hands together like this is the juiciest information she’s ever heard.
“Seriously? I’m not talking about this in front of Craig.” I shoot him a look. “Sorry, Craig.”
Whitney rolls her eyes. “He’s not going to tell anyone. I mean, the man signs NDAs with all of his clients. Like he said, he’s literally a vault.”
“Ugh,” I groan, knowing Whitney isn’t going to drop it. Pushing my laptop out of the way, I drop my forehead onto the desk. “We did the opposite of work things out,” I confess.
“What does that mean?” Whitney asks at the same time Craig says, “Why are you two fighting to begin with?”
Sighing, I resign myself to the fact that this is about to turn into an interrogation and explain, “Blake didn’t want to bring me into the brokerage, but I kind of refused to take no as an answer.
And then I kind of forced him to train me.
He hates it and doesn’t want me here. So, now, I’m just granting his wish and avoiding him.
” I lift my head and give Craig a wink. “But I like working with you more, anyway. You actually have a heart.”
“Ha!” Craig lets out a deep laugh. “I was wondering how the hell a brand new agent ended up here. Blake is notorious for his refusal to bring on new agents. Or any agents, for that matter. He’s fiercely protective of the business he’s built.”
Whitney nods. “I told you. You’re literally the only person who’s walked into Blake’s office, demanded something, and walked away unscathed.”
“Look,” I say, leaning back into my chair. “None of that matters because he hates me for what I did.”
“He doesn’t hate you. We’ve been over this,” Whitney says.
Craig nods along. “If he hated you, you wouldn’t be here. Remember Erin?” he asks Whitney.
“Oh, yes! Erin. Poor thing never stood a chance.” Whitney makes the sign of the cross.
“Oh my god, she died?” I squeak.
“No,” Whitney laughs. “Though, after what she pulled, she was basically dead to Blake.”
“She got into it with him over how he was assigning clients,” Craig explains.
“Basically, when a potential client contacts him, he’ll pass them on to the agent he thinks is the best fit to work with them.
Well, she accused him of favoring some of the other agents because she wasn’t getting clients from him.
In front of the entire company. He sent her packing that day. ”
“He doesn’t put up with bullshit,” Whitney adds. “If he really didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here.”
Craig shifts in his chair, leaning back and clasping his hands together in front of him. “So, what happened Friday?”
I glare at him, the little snoopy snoop. “Does this office thrive on gossip?”
“No, just us,” Whitney says, gesturing between the two of them. “So, what happened after you two left my place?”
Skipping the utterly embarrassing make-out session in his truck, I jump to the part that hurt most. “He said he doesn’t need me for anything, and that I can’t take the hint that I should just leave.”
“He did not,” Whitney says, horror on her face. “Wow, he really is an asshole around you.”
“Maybe he’s testing you,” Craig offers. “Make sure you’re tough enough for this job.”
“How tough do I have to be to sell houses?” I ask him. It’s not like I’m going to be out there street fighting with the competition.
“Not tough at all for that part. But you do have to have a thick skin to work here,” he replies.
“That’s true.” Whitney nods her agreement.
“Blake runs a tight ship. Maybe he’s making sure you won’t crumble under the pressure.
He has a reputation to uphold with all the big name clients we work with.
” She grabs her chin, pondering, and narrows her eyes at me before adding, “Maybe he’s protecting you. ”
I let out a huff. “The only thing Blake is protecting is himself and his own interests. Heaven forbid he gives someone the chance to prove themselves.” My blood starts boiling thinking about what he said Friday, and I let it all out on Whitney and Craig.
“He’s nothing but a condescending bully who cares more about his own self image and precious reputation than he does about the people who work for him.
He’s a narcissistic bastard and he can go fuck himself for all I care, because I’m done with him. ”
“Is that so?” an ominous voice asks from the doorway.
Craig, Whitney and I all turn in our seats to see Blake leaning against the door frame, a grim look on his face and his hands in his pockets.
He’s wearing a suit today, his hair slicked back and face clean-shaven.
The cuts on his brow and lip from the fight are no longer visible, and the bruise around his eye is now a faded, yellowish color.
His green eyes never leave mine as he says, “Company meeting starts in five minutes. I’d suggest heading to the conference room.”
Craig and Whitney look like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar as they get up and shuffle past him out of the room. When I approach, he puts his arm out, blocking the doorway. “A word,” he says, his voice low and threatening.
I pause, glancing up to see Craig giving me a sympathetic look before disappearing from sight. Whitney makes another sign of the cross, giving me a solemn look as she mutters, “It was nice knowing ya, Tracy. May you find peace wherever you go next.”
I roll my eyes at her, to which she smacks Blake on the shoulder and says, “If you need help with the body…”
“Conference room. Now, Whitney,” Blake barks.
“Fine, fine. So bossy,” she mutters, then disappears down the hallway, leaving me alone with Blake’s looming presence.
He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him, the catch of the latch cutting through the tense atmosphere. “Have you been avoiding me, sunshine?”
Taking a step back, I rest my hands on my hips. “You all but told me to take a hike on Friday. I’m just following orders.”
He steps closer to me, but I hold my ground. “And here I thought you didn’t take no for an answer.”
“For you, I made an exception.” I give him a sarcastic smile and make sure my words are laced with disdain. “Turns out, you’re just miserable enough that I’m willing to take the L and do this on my own.”
I’m sticking to the vow I made Friday night of doing this on my terms.
And my terms? Make Blake suffer.
So, I’m setting my trap, and watching him walk right into it.
He steps into me until there’s barely any space between us.
I force my eyes to stay on his, even though my body is vibrating from the closeness of him.
I can feel the heat on his skin and smell his cologne.
I can damn near taste him, the memory of his mouth on mine one I can’t seem to forget, but I let none of that show.
His eyes bore down into mine, his face hard. “You’re giving up, is that it? All that stubbornness just to turn around and leave two weeks in?”
“Oh, I’m not leaving, Blake.” I bring a hand up to rest on his chest, my fingertips curling into the hard muscle.
“You don’t get to bully me into quitting.
In fact, I’m planning on staying after the three-month trial, whether you want me to or not.
I’ve just decided that I don’t need your guidance anymore.
Because why would I want to be the protégé of a bully? ”
I give him a light shove with the hand on his chest, and he backs up a step. His jaw is clenched, hands fisted at his sides, and a thrill rushes through me at the angry expression on his face.
Score one, Tracy.
Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I saunter past him, walking just close enough to brush against his arm as I go. “I’ll see you in the meeting, boss.”
Not looking back, I make my way to the front of the building and up to the conference room on the second floor. My heart thuds loudly in my chest as I walk up the stairs, the blood rushing through my veins laced with a spark of excitement.
Blake thought he could bully me into quitting, but I’m about to have him on his knees begging for me to stay.
Blake
I clench my teeth, tamping down my rising irritation so I can go run this goddamn meeting.
Tracy was so far off the mark with her little speech. The absolute last thing I want now is for her to quit. I’ve spent the last week resigning myself to the fact that I want this woman like fucking crazy.
The part that pisses me off is that she thinks she doesn’t need me anymore.
She’s going to find out soon just how badly she really does.
Straightening my tie, I head back up to the second floor and to the conference room.
I spot Tracy immediately, sandwiched between Whitney and Craig on the long side of the table against the windows.
The sun filters in behind her, and she looks iridescent, the sunlight reflecting off her golden hair and tan skin like she’s a goddess of light.
I make my way to the head of the table to take a seat.
All fifteen—well sixteen now, thanks to Tracy—of my agents are here, plus Whitney.
Most sit around the conference room table, but a few take seats in the extra chairs at the back of the room.
Every month, we have a mandatory company meeting, and they all know better than to skip it.
I go over all the usual updates, company policies, any laws or regulations that have been changed which affect the housing market, then open the floor up to questions.
Whitney raises her hand, and I damn near have to stop myself from scoffing at her. I already know where this is going. “Yes, Whitney?”
She stands up, making a show of adjusting her shirt like she’s about to accept a goddamn Oscar.
“I just wanted to make sure to introduce our newest team member.” She elbows Tracy, gesturing for her to stand up.
Reluctantly, she does. “Everyone, this is Tracy Smith.” Her eyes meet mine and she smirks. “Craig’s new protégé.”
My blood heats. Like fuck, she is.
Craig looks at me and grins. The bastard. They both know exactly what they’re doing.
The other agents all mutter their ‘welcomes’ and Tracy flashes them that gorgeous smile of hers.
“Thanks, everyone. I’m happy to be here,” she says.
She and Whitney return to their seats just as Lucas asks, “What brokerage did you transfer from, Tracy?”
Her smile falters, just the slightest. “I just finished real estate school, actually. So, I’m really looking forward to learning from you all.”
Lucas turns his attention to me, his brows drawn in question. “Since when do you let inexperienced agents join the team, Blake? It’s not a good look for the brokerage.”
The agents know I want their honesty. I have an open door policy for a reason. What I don’t appreciate is them questioning my decisions in front of the entire team. Lucas knows that better than anyone, and he’s abusing his standing with me by asking that question right now.
Keeping my tone neutral, I tell him, “Since last week. Nobody joins this team without reason, and I suggest you remember that.”
Lucas doesn’t question further, but I know this conversation is far from over.
A few of the agents give each other looks, but before I can shut it down, Craig says, “Tracy’s been working closely with me since coming onboard.
She’s driven, intelligent, and will be an excellent addition to our team.
I have no doubt she’ll find success and elevate all of us with her. ”
Whitney nods her agreement. “So, everyone play nice or you’ll take a beating from Blake.”
“Yo, Blake,” Jimmy calls from the back of the room. “That how you got the bruised eye?”
A few people laugh, and I glare at Whitney. The little shit stirrer just grins at me.
“That,” Tracy says, speaking in a soft voice like she’s letting everyone in on a secret, “is quite the story. Isn’t it, Blake? Do you want to tell them or should I?” She raises an eyebrow at me.
Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea what you just started here.
Granted, I’m surprised no one has asked me about the bruise until today. It was still dark and swollen when I came into the office Monday morning. Thankfully, it’s almost gone now.
Tracy watches me expectantly to see what I’ll do.
“An unfortunate accident,” I say to the room, shutting this conversation down. “Same time next month. You’re all free to go.”
Getting up from my seat at the table, I round the side and stop behind Tracy’s chair. Leaning down to her ear, I tell her, “My office. Now.”