Maya

 

 

The number one rule in real estate is always keep your client happy, and since the clock is ticking away at a fast pace on my thirty days, I do the only thing I can. I call Julian Bishop.

I haven't seen the man in two days. The last time was when he walked out of this penthouse after the showing I had with Trey Hale. That amounted to a phone call from his financial advisor telling me that Trey's budget for an apartment is only a fraction of the price of the penthouse. I told him I'd be in touch as soon as the other residences in the hotel hit the market. He was overjoyed to hear that.

A potential future sale is always good.

Julian answers on the second ring. "Maya. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

I've imagined phone sex with him and now that I hear the rough timbre of his voice over the phone, I know it would be better than some actual sex I've had in my life.

"I have a question," I say softly. "It's more a favor, I suppose."

"Tell me what it is."

I hesitate only briefly. I wouldn't make this call unless I felt forced to do it, especially after the fact that I essentially told him less than forty-eight hours ago that I didn't want him showing up during my listing appointments.

"I'm showing the penthouse and there's a couple here who would like to meet you." I glance over at Tom and Irene Clarkson, the retired couple who contacted me earlier today after seeing the brochure in their hotel room detailing the penthouse residence. They were eager to see the space, so I arranged to meet them here ten minutes ago. Now, they're insisting on a face-to-face with Julian. "I'm sorry to bother you with this. I know how busy you are."

"I'll be right there." With those words the call ends and my heartbeat steps up to a thrumming beat inside my chest.

 

***

 

"Do you think there's enough space for a dance party?" Irene twirls in place in the center of the open concept living and dining room area. "Tom and I love to dance."

"There's more than enough room, dear." Tom moves to stand next to his wife. "Let's give it a try, shall we?"

I love this. Seeing two people this much in love always warms my heart. They've held hands through most of the tour I just gave them of the penthouse. They spoke lovingly about their three children and four grandchildren when they viewed the bedrooms.

Purchasing a property in New York is something they've long considered, and now that their oldest son is living here with his family, they feel the time is right to make the move.

"I can turn on some music," I offer. I've tried to keep them occupied with small talk about the hotel amenities while we wait for Julian to arrive.

"Sinatra is our favorite." Tom tosses me a wink.

I scroll through the music app on my phone until I find a ballad. I turn up the volume, and the song starts just as Tom reaches to tug his wife into his arms.

They move together seamlessly, their bodies obviously so familiar with one another that they can anticipate the other's moves before they happen. I watch spellbound, the wishful parts of me hopeful that one day I'll have a connection as intense and natural as this.

The song ends and another begins. This one is even more soulful. Irene closes her eyes as she rests her head against her husband's chest.

I almost jump out of my skin when I feel the light tap of a hand on my shoulder. "May I have this dance?"

I smile as I cock my head to look and into Julian's face. "You want to dance?"

"Don't you? How inspiring are those two?" He gestures to Tom and Irene who are lost in a world of their own.

Before I have a chance to answer, Julian is sliding off his suit jacket. He places it over the back of a leather sofa before he sets to work removing his silver and sapphire cufflinks. Those get placed on a small wooden table next to the sofa.

I watch intently as he pushes the sleeves of his white dress shirt to his elbows revealing toned, thick forearms.

"I need to get comfortable to dance." He extends a hand to me. "Do you want to take off anything before we get started?"

I glance down at the short black dress and strappy heels I'm wearing. "I'm good."

Another slow song begins and as the magical sound of Sinatra's voice fills the air, I step into Julian's arms.

"You should call me over to dance during every listing appointment you have," he whispers those words as he leads me over the hardwood floor. "You're a wonderful dancer, Maya."

He's kind. He's an incredible dancer. Sure of each step, his touch gentle enough to guide me, yet firm enough to command my body to follow his.

I'm pressed against his chest. My left hand is resting on his shoulder, while the right is cupped tenderly in his palm. This is the closest I've ever been to him. I feel every ridge of his firm chest and toned stomach beneath his white dress shirt. I know he's hard. He has to know I'm aroused.

"You two are a sight," Irene says as she glances at us. "Who do they remind you of, Tom?"

"Us, my darling." He kisses her cheek. "They remind me of us the very first time I asked you to dance."