Ever since I started working for her, I’d arrived at a quarter ‘til eight on the dot each weekday. My routine was always the same. Check in at work. Contact leads from the night before and follow up with clients. Look for any new listings that may have popped up overnight. Check my schedule and spend the rest of the day meeting clients and buzzing around the city showing properties. I’d check back in at the end of the day unless I had a client dinner, then I’d go home. Rinse. Repeat. Brenda kept a close watch on all of us, memorizing our schedules because she had nothing better to do in that giant office of hers.
“I had a showing this morning,” I lied. The truth was that I’d caught a wild hair on my walk to work that morning. Halfway up my street, I decided to take a detour and head to Wilder’s block. I stood in his lobby and buzzed his penthouse, only he didn’t answer. I called him once, but he didn’t answer his phone, either.
After leaving his building, I took a detour to a coffee shop and got the biggest mocha cappuccino on the menu and tacked on a giant banana chocolate chip muffin. I stopped on a park bench and enjoyed the hell out of my breakfast.
I just wanted to prove to myself that I didn’t need my routines to be okay. That no matter what happened with Wilder, I was going to be fine. Giving up control of my routine, the one thing that made me feel so safe and powerful, was the most liberating thing I’d ever done.
“I need to see you in my office,” she said, nodding toward her open door. “Now.”
My heart pounded, rising into my throat as I followed her. The muffin from earlier suddenly felt heavy as it sloshed around in my stomach like thick sludge. Private meetings with Brenda always gave me mini panic attacks.
“Have a seat, Addison,” she said, her voice quiet as she shut the door behind us. She took a seat in her ultra-luxe leather chair and scooted in. “I wanted to speak with you regarding our newest client, Mr. Van Cleef.”
My throat tightened as I felt the color drain from my face.
“This comes as a complete surprise to me,” she said, “but Mr. Van Cleef is entirely disappointed with Kyle.”
I clenched my lips together, fighting off the smile that so badly wanted to emerge. It took everything I had not to tell her, “I told you so.”
“He says he wants the blonde,” Brenda said with a shrug. “He wants you. Matter of fact, he’s waiting for you right now. In your office.”
I left Brenda’s office and headed to mine, where my stomach did somersaults the moment my eyes landed on the back of his chocolate brown head of hair.
“Good morning, Mr. Van Cleef,” I said in my most professional tone. He turned around slowly, his face lighting up the second our eyes met. I closed the door behind me and headed to my chair. “I’m sorry to hear Mr. Maxwell didn’t work out for you.”
“Yes,” he said. “I made sure to tell Brenda how deeply disappointed I was in working with Mr. Maxwell, and how unprofessional he has been on the job.”
I swallowed, almost certain my gulp was quite audible. Did he know about Kyle and me?
“I mentioned to her how having a team member like Mr. Maxwell was basically committing real estate agency suicide,” he continued. “It could be very bad for business to have an agent with such poor ethics on your team. She seemed to agree.”
“Did you tell her to fire him?” I squinted at him from across my desk.
“In not so many words.”
“But why?”
“I have my reasons,” he said. “Besides, I’d much rather work with you, and now that we’re not fooling around, I’d like to hire you on.”
“I didn’t know we were officially no longer fooling around.” I crossed my arms.
“You made your intentions very clear that night I brought you home with me.”
“Oh, really?”
“When you ran out of my penthouse and then told me to give you space after I’d just declared my feelings for you, I assumed that meant you wanted space from both of us.” His eyes landed on his bulge of his cock for just a moment. “We’re sort of a package deal.”
Wilder stood up, walking around the desk and coming to my side. He pulled me up and wrapped me in a strong embrace.
“I can’t do the no-strings thing anymore,” he said. “Not with you. Any other girl, sure. Not you.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, but it returned in an instant.
“I can’t keep fucking you and looking into those empty eyes,” he said. His hand cupped my chin, lifting my mouth to his yet holding himself just far enough away to prevent our lips from actually meeting.
“My eyes may have been empty,” I admitted, my tone meek, “but my heart never was. You just couldn’t see it.”
And with those words, I’d erased the line I’d drawn in the sand the night I met him; the line that had been crossed over and over again.
“So it’s settled,” he said. “You’ll be my agent and my girlfriend.”
“I ordered your usual,” my aunt said as she dipped a slice of bread into a saucer of olive oil. “I’m sorry, Wilder. I was starving. And you’re late.” She rolled her eyes, though I knew she couldn’t stay mad at me for long.
“Aunt Laura,” I said as I met her for our weekly dinner. I kissed her cheek and sat down across from her, still wearing the smile Addison had given me earlier that day.
“Well, you’re awfully chipper tonight,” she said. She leaned back in her seat, giving me a once over as she chewed. “What’s all this about?”