Reese

All eyes are on me when I walk through the front door. Being the boss, people normally make themselves look busy when I arrive to work. Today, they’re all staring at me. Is my hair out of place? Did I pop a button on my blouse? Why in the world am I the center of attention this afternoon?

Ireland. Damn her! What did she tell them?

“Ms. Kennedy, your messages,” Anna says as I walk past the reception desk with my eyes focused straight ahead.

“Thank you,” I reply, pausing only long enough to snag the small stack of papers from her. “I’ll be in my office preparing for the Burke closing. Please buzz me when they arrive.”

“Of course. Anything else?” she asks sweetly.

“No, thank you, Anna. Wait,” I say, stopping abruptly and turning on my heels. “Can you send Ireland to see me?”

“She’s out to lunch with a client right now. I will as soon as she returns.”

I close and lock my door behind me once I’m safely in my office. Leaning back against it, I let out a deep breath. I’m overthinking this. Ireland would never tell anyone what was going on. She knows better. She knows me well enough to know how upset I would be, how ashamed and embarrassed.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I drop my bag on top of my file cabinet and plop down into my chair. I have a billion things to get accomplished today, starting with the stack of messages Anna handed me.

Phone call after phone call, client after client, I take care of business. Closings are scheduled. Showings are moved around. Open houses are on the calendar. After ordering office supplies and new signage, I pop open my laptop to check my emails, update the staff calendar, and send it out.

I try my best to be a fair boss. It’s harder than it sounds. Making sure everyone gets the time off they ask for, the time they need with their families, is a challenge every time. Being one of the only single people in the office, I pick up most of the slack. It’s my business, my livelihood, after all.

It takes me close to an hour to update the calendar and slide things around. I’m going to need to talk to a few people personally before I send it out to the entire team. There were a few things I wasn’t able to accommodate, things I would normally cover myself, but I’m not able to.

This damn reunion is screwing up my life. In more ways than one. It’s making everything more stressful. That wasn’t supposed to be how this went. I was supposed to go to the reunion, prove to the bullies that I wasn’t the same person they knew, maybe rub some of my success in their face, and come back home.

It’s turning into an entire production.

My phone rings, interrupting my moment of self-pity.

“Yes.”

“The Burkes are here. Should I show them to the conference room?” Anna asks.

Shit! I still haven't put their paperwork together. Looking up at the clock above my door, I see they’re a few minutes early. I need to get it together.

“Yes. Please make sure they’re comfortable. I should be there in a few minutes.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve run behind on a closing appointment. Anna and I have worked out a code. If I ask her to make sure they’re comfortable, she knows I’m going to be late. Thankfully, she’s great at what she does. She’s the first person they see when they walk in, the first person they talk to, and on some occasions, the one who gets to connect with them on a more personal level.

She’ll take good care of them while I finalize their paperwork. All I need is the email from the buyer’s agent.

Click.

Click.

Scroll.

Where is it?

As I scroll through my inbox, looking for the email I need, one catches my eye. It’s from DUCS. Guiding the mouse over the link, I force myself to wait. There are more important things to attend to right now. This will only be a distraction if I open it. A huge frickin’ distraction.

Twenty minutes later, I’m walking into the conference room to find Anna and the Burkes laughing hysterically. I smile to myself, knowing that Anna saved my ass. Again. I owe her a raise. A big, fat raise. She’s more than just a receptionist. More than just my assistant. She’s a valuable member of this team. I hope she realizes that.

Closing doesn’t take long. Once the paperwork is read and signed, I fax a copy over to the seller’s agent and hand the keys over to the Burkes. They were a pleasure to work with. Newlyweds, embarking on their first journey together. Clayton was transferred to Denver a few months ago, and I’m happy I was able to help them find the perfect home for them. Ashley had a long list of things she wanted, which made our search challenging, but in the end, I found a house with everything she wanted. Including a view that rivals mine.

Looking at the clock, I have enough time to grab something to eat before I have to head over to meet a couple for a showing tonight. It’s the third time they’ve looked at the house. I’m hoping the wife has finally made her decision. I was certain she was going to give the go-ahead last time. She was even planning on where to put her furniture. When I got the call late last week that they wanted to look at it one more time, I was surprised.

Sneaking back into my office to shut everything down, I remember the email. Do I want to deal with that now? Not really, but it’ll be haunting me the rest of the night if I don’t. It’ll be all I think about while the wife wanders from room to room, asking me the same questions over and over again.

Great! If this guy turns out to be a complete tool, I’ll never be able to step foot back in that place. I know most of the baristas, or rather, they know me. My mocha cap is always waiting for me when I make it to the front of the line. All I have to do is pay and be on my way. They make life easy, especially at six o’clock in the morning.

It’s not worth it. I’ll just cancel my trip. My parents will be disappointed, but I can’t do this. I’m giving up too much and gaining very little in the process. Call me selfish, but I love my life. Even the little parts of it like my favorite coffee shop. I don’t want to give anything up just to prove to a bunch of assholes that they didn’t destroy me after all.

“Will you please stop second-guessing this,” Ireland says. When I look up, I find her standing in my doorway looking disheveled.

“Where have you been? Anna said you went to lunch with a client. That was hours ago.”

“I got held up at lunch,” she replies softly, looking down at her shoes.

“Liar.” I’m the only one that can call her out on the spot. She’s normally better at hiding things from me than this. It must be more than a little white lie with how evasive she’s being right now.

“No, really. I did. We ate, then we walked, then we looked at his property, and now I’m back here,” she states firmly, finally making eye contact for a brief moment before looking away in shame again.

“His property? Who did you have lunch with?”

“Paul,” she says, sheepishly. I notice the flush of pink in her cheeks as she stares at her shoes again, trying to hide her smile.

“Was it really a working lunch?”

“In a way. He is interested in buying another piece of commercial property. We just never got around to looking at anything today.”

“So,” I begin, closing my laptop. I’m running out of time now. If I don’t leave in the next few minutes, I won’t have time to stop and pick up food before my showing. “Did you finally get what you wanted from Paul after all this time?”

“No! We didn’t do that. There was some flirting and stuff, I let him kiss me, but that’s it. I swear. You know I’m not the kind of girl to give it up on the first date. That would make me a slut, and I am not a slut. Never have been.”

“What do you call a girl who goes on two dates in one day and sleeps with the guy after the second date?”

That was going a little too far. Before I can apologize, Ireland flips me off. Thankfully, there’s still a smile on her face when she does it. We’ve both become completely different people over the years. Better versions of who we use to be in a way. I shouldn’t be throwing her past in her face. She would never do that to me.

“Bitch,” she finally replies. “You know that only happened once.”

“I’d love to stay and chat about Paul, but I have a showing. Call me later?” I suggest, reaching for my bag.

“You know it. We have a few things to talk about. Mainly your meeting in a few days.” Her voice trails off as if she’s going to say more, but she doesn’t.

“Yeah, about that. I thought you said I would get info on this guy. All I got was a contract I need to sign and return and the meeting info.”

“I’ll explain why later. Go, or you’re going to be late.”

To my surprise, the ever-indecisive wife is ready to put in an offer the second they walked in the door. After talking numbers for an hour, they come to a decision. By the time everything is locked up and I’m on my way home for the night, I’m famished. Traffic was a mess on my way over, almost making me late. I couldn’t stop for food, and now I’m stuck eating later than I like to.

Making a pit stop at the deli around the corner from my place, I pick up a bottle of red wine and a salad. It’s going to have to be dinner tonight. The salad, not the wine. Well, the wine will be my appetizer and dessert.

As I expect, she doesn’t reply. Ireland is great at ending a conversation on her terms. She always gets the last word, whether in person, on the phone, or via text message. It’s irritating as hell. It’s also one of the things I love most about her, when I’m not on the receiving end, of course.

Rushing through my salad, I pour myself a second glass of wine and open up the contract. As I read through it, I wait for the rug to be pulled out from under me. There has to be something she expected me to be opposed to. Why else would she demand that I sign it as soon as possible?

After a second scan, I sign and send the contract back to Paul. Nothing stood out to me. In fact, as far as contracts go, that was one of the most well-written one’s I’ve signed. Everything was clear cut and to the point. There was a space for the escort to sign as well, so I know he’ll be agreeing to the same things I just did.

Oh God! What have I gotten myself into?

Really? That good? I’ve seen some attractive men in this city, but none that have really hit the mark for me. Sure, tall, dark, and handsome is fantastic. Blue eyes are a plus. For me, it’s not about how attractive they are. It’s more about how attractive they think they are. If he’s full of himself, my attraction will die on the spot and this will never work.

Great! This isn’t his normal day job. What if he screws this up for me? Do I get my money back? Worse. What if he screws this up in front of the assholes I’m trying to confront? No amount of money will be able to rectify that. He better be good. He better be on his game. I couldn’t care less how attractive he is as long as he can get the job done.

Just as I’m about to close my laptop for the night, I get an alert that a new email has come through. I contemplate waiting until morning, but I know I’ll never sleep if I don’t. As I expected, it’s from Paul.

That’s as cut and dry and it’s gonna get. Paul seems like a straight up guy. I’m starting to see why Ireland’s attracted to him. She’s a straight shooter, too.

And she has great taste in men.

It says he’s just over six-foot-tall. Dark brown hair. Hazel blue eyes. The picture I have is from the waist up, but from what I can tell, his body is toned. He takes care of himself.

Hunter Drake is yummy. I’m not morally opposed to being on his arm all night. In fact, I’ll be sad if I don’t run into Tiffanie now. He’ll be fun to rub in her face a little. Too bad it’s a masquerade party. She won’t be able to see his sexy dimple.