---

I left Bodhi’s the next morning - although I didn’t actually consider that place his home - and drove straight to the only realtor in this town. I needed to show Bodhi that if he kept his focus and started actually giving a shit, he could have what he wanted and still make the money he should because of his family name.

Google was very forthcoming with information and I pulled up to a small suite attached to a long row of what appeared to be small-town businesses. In fact, the more I looked around this place, the more I realized big business hadn’t really touched it. I should probably talk to my father about purchasing land out here. It looked like it would be profitable during the summer.

Tabling that idea, I decided to focus on my new one: I needed to teach Bodhi a lesson. Buying a luxury condo right on the water was my goal. I wanted him to see that he had more potential than what he was doing with his life. That he had brains behind his careless attitude, if he would just apply himself.

I walked into the white building and the door slammed shut, causing the blinds to knock into the window. The lone woman at her desk jumped and glared.

“Hi,” I said, ignoring the ice-blue daggers she shot at me. “I’m interested in purchasing some property here.”

She looked down back at what I assumed was her planner. “Did you have an appointment?” she asked, her voice clipped. It almost sounded like she was annoyed with me, which seemed odd because it wasn’t like I was interrupting her.

I opened my mouth, ready to respond, but a chuckle came out instead. To be honest, it wasn’t my intention to laugh. It really wasn’t. But I couldn’t help it. Was she serious? This was a small beach town with a population of two thousand people. I had no idea how she managed to stay in business because I was positive she didn’t have very many clients. How could she? Which meant appointments weren’t required. I hoped she would make an exception, considering she was going to get a pretty hefty commission if she could show me a decent property I actually wanted to buy. Maybe I didn’t plan to live here, but I could potentially rent it out or use it as my weekend house.

“I’m sorry,” she said, furrowing her brow and looking at me with pursed lips. “Is something funny? Did you have an appointment?”

“To be honest, I didn’t think you were actually serious about the appointment,” I said. “I just figured -“

“You figured you could step into my business and in five seconds be able to figure it all out?” She dropped her eyes and snapped her planner shut. “Let me guess: Seattle? You look local state-wise but definitely not from here. Not from the area.”

I furrowed my brow, sliding my hands loosely in my pockets. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to be funny or if she was genuinely prickly. Either way, I didn’t care for it. I wasn’t used to being completely written off, especially from someone who didn’t know me.

“Is there something wrong with Seattle?” I asked. I was trying to be patient. I needed her help and I didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with her, but I also didn’t like being reduced to a geographical place. Perhaps I should not have done the same thing to her.

“Just that everyone from Seattle seems to think they know everything about everyone,” she continued, looking me in the eye as she said it. “And they look at us residents of Westport with pity. They feel sorry for us.”

“How can I feel sorry for you?” I asked her. “I don’t even know you.”

“No,” she agreed. “You don’t.” She looked down at her planner.

I noticed two silver picture frames on her desk facing her. Probably a boyfriend. There wasn’t a wedding ring. She looked like she was my age, maybe a few years younger, potentially divorced. Potentially had a kid. She didn’t look particularly happy, though the outfit she was wearing I instantly recognized as Ann Taylor. She had expensive taste. Classic, expensive taste.

I felt my respect for her increase slightly. For someone who clearly worked by herself, she was running a professional business.

Now that I allowed myself a chance to look at her - really look at her - I realized she was actually quite beautiful. Her red hair was swept into a high bun, bangs littering her forehead and dancing on the edges of her eyebrows. Her green eyes were vivid against her peachy skin tone, topped by painted brown lids and dark eyelashes, longer than eyelashes typically were. Her lips were pink and appeared soft, sensual.

She wore a purple silk shirt tucked into a form-fitting, high-waisted skirt. I couldn’t make out the rest of her outfit but I imagined nothing less than three inch heels on her feet, probably black.

“Are you done?” she asked when my eyes met hers.

I blinked, feeling my cheeks flood with embarrassment. I’d never had a woman make me feel that before.

“Done?” I asked.

She didn’t bother to hide the fact that she rolled her eyes. “Exactly,” she said. “Seattle.” She dropped the pen in her hand. “So, what type of property are you looking for. Let me guess - condo, two bedrooms, maybe three for an office, two stories, waterfront. The most modern property we have.”

I wanted any excuse to argue with her, any reason to tell her she was wrong about something, but I found that what she said was exactly what I wanted.

“Actually, yes,” I said, removing my hand from my pocket and extending it out. “My name is Max, Max Rogers.”

“Victoria Bell,” she said, gently placing her hand in mine, hesitating only a moment before she did so. “You must be Bodhi’s brother.”

I wrinkled my nose at that. Bodhi’s brother? I had never been referred to as Bodhi’s brother. Bodhi was my brother, not the other way around.

She stood up and I caught sight of her black stilettos, attached to a toned set of legs.

Victoria picked up her planner and strode to the door without looking at me. “Let’s go look at our options.”