by Harloe Rae
I match her glare and raise the intensity to sweltering. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Vannah crosses her arms, effectively serving me her tits on a silver platter. “I can’t imagine how.”
“By making an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Will it send you back to Chicago faster?”
“Is that really what you want?”
“Yes.” She blurts her answer before I’m done speaking.
I scrub over my mouth to hide the threat of a smirk. “Let’s not be rash. This isn’t how I meant for our evening to start.”
Her eyes roll to the vaulted ceiling. She still hasn’t returned to her stool. “Could’ve fooled me.”
I ignore the barb. “Aren’t you interested in what I have to say?”
“That’s such a loaded question,” she remarks in a wry tone.
“I’d like you to be my personal real estate agent.” The title doesn’t suit this vixen before me. To be fair, I’m not sure limitations from any occupation could corral her fire. She’s meant to blaze trails far and wide—and get filthy rich doing it.
Vannah shows no sign of surprise at my proposal. Or interest, for that matter. “Diving into business before we’re even brought to a table? I’m not sure how cheap your dinner dates usually are, but this wham-bam situation isn’t going to end well for you where I’m concerned.”
Her entitled attitude isn’t helping me ditch the mirth attempting to make an appearance. I stamp out the warmth spreading through me by enlisting my signature stony expression. “Then we should remedy that. Do you know how this restaurant got its name?”
She quirks a brow while polishing off her cocktail. Perfect timing. “Do you?”
“There’s a rooftop patio that’s supposed to offer a great sunset view.”
“How romantic.” Her tone suggests the scene might be similar to a waste facility.
“Good thing that’s not my intention. Perhaps the sight will get you in a more agreeable mood, though.”
“For what?” Her teeth clack together with the sharp question.
That incessant need to question me chips at my patience. “My proposal, unless you’re reconsidering the sex portion.”
Vannah huffs hard enough to make her lips flap. “It doesn’t matter where we sit. I’ll still be a tough nut to crack.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” I lift my chin to a hostess hovering nearby and point toward the ceiling.
She nods, scurrying over to lead the way. The elevator ride is so silent a queef would resemble an explosion. Vannah gives no signal of discomfort from the cloying tension that’s practically fogging the steel walls. I almost exhale in relief when the doors glide open, greeting us with sticky warmth that’s still clinging to the night air. The outdoor layout is more relaxed and casual. Several vibrant couches frame one side while plush armchairs clumped in intimate proximity are arranged along another.
The girl leading us peeks over her shoulder, hesitating between the two seating options. Whatever visible fury she notices crackling off Vannah in an attack against me has her directing us away from the couches. Wise choice, unfortunately.
“Well, this is cozy.” Vannah’s tone makes that observation sound like an accusation.
“Certainly is.” I settle in a swayback seat as she folds herself into the one across me. Her elegance wafts along the open space, even above the mouthwatering scent of grilled meat. A server swoops in to get our beverage order, concise and direct, then darts off to give us privacy.
I smooth a palm down my dress shirt—sans tie. Vannah’s gaze tracks my movement. The image of her ripping at the buttons gets a twitch from my cock. Heat aims south at an alarming rate. This woman is too tempting. The way she’s studying me while slowly crossing her legs alerts me to her suspicion.
A cough removes the lust from tightening my throat. “Do you ever regret getting into real estate?”
She glances to the side, narrowing her eyes on some unsuspecting point. “No, much to my father’s dismay.”
The similarity isn’t lost on me. I recognize the bitterness in her tone as my own. “There’s a story there.”
“We aren’t here to discuss my family.” Her voice is frosty enough to give me a chill, regardless of the warm temperature.
I wave away her deflection. “It’s you who slammed the brakes on us ramming straight into business. A slight detour can be accounted for.”
She crosses her arms, but relents. “My dad is a lawyer and built his own firm from the ground up. His grand plan includes my brother and me joining the family legacy.”
Those final words are spat from her mouth with a hostility I can relate to.
“We have that in common, I suppose. My father never forgave me for abandoning his company to forge my own path.”
A furrow dents the smooth skin between her brows. “Is he—?”
“Dead,” I finish for her.
Her mouth opens, but closes an instant later. She’s probably recalling my reprimand after apologizing for trying to use my Nana against me.
I save her from floundering to fill in the awkward silence. “He was old and sick. His life overflowed with luxury and power by most standards. Your sympathy isn’t necessary.”
She toys with a red curl that’s falling over her slender shoulder. A knot in her slender throat bobs with a thick swallow. That slight chink in her armor gets stashed away for later use. “All right then.”
I can sense a shift in the air and lunge to grab at it. “You’re stunning, Savannah. A true vision.”
With a resounding creak, her guard slams into place with barbed wire as reinforcement. The fiery wall in her expressive gaze seals off any hints at that momentary gap. She’s becoming predictable. “It’s just Vannah. Will you never respect my wishes?”
The reflex twerking at the corner of my lip is too much. I allow a crooked smirk to appear. “Probably not.”
Vannah is saved from responding when our drinks arrive. Before the server scurries off, we both request medium-rare filets. I had to swallow the urge to order for her since—in my experience—women don’t know how to have a steak properly cooked. It should come as no surprise that Vannah provided the exact instructions I had waiting on my tongue. The server dashes off to do our bidding, leaving a cloud of dust.
She’s quiet for a moment while drinking her martini. Those emerald eyes study me with a shrewd scrutiny I don’t allow from many. I’m giving her more liberties this evening than most get in a lifetime. She should consider herself fortunate to be in this position, but I’m well aware her pride won’t allow it. That’s something I’m learning to admire about her. Conversations with her remind me of chess—one move in the wrong direction and my entire strategy will be revealed. We’re establishing a cloaked rivalry that will conquer all others. Failing against her isn’t an option.
“You’re honestly planning to purchase those warehouses?”
I sip at my bourdon. “Of course. The plans are already in motion.”
Vannah loses her composure, lurching forward with a gasp. “Really?”
“Do you have such little faith in me?”
“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question.”
I clear the alcohol from my mouth with a hearty gulp. “All right, Savannah. I’m going to make this simple.”
“It’s about time.”
The sass in her retort rolls down my back. Curbing that snark will be a great accomplishment.
I stare at her, wishing to eliminate the mere feet separating us. Seducing her would be more effective with touch, but the opportunity will come. “I want you on retainer as my commercial realty broker.”
One side of her mouth hikes up. “Exclusively?”
My chuckle is dark and something to be feared. “I’ll keep you occupied.”
A calculation seems to whiz through her mind. The cha-ching from dollar signs appearing in her vision is almost audible. “Why would I entertain this idea?”
Or mayb
e that’s just my projection. “I’ll make you a very rich woman.”
“If I only cared about a lucrative salary, I’d be a lawyer at my father’s firm right now.” Cunning wit sparks from her eyes. This girl is no airhead, contrary to what some of her forced mannerisms suggest.
“Then I’ll ensure you’re the most revered agent in the Midwest.”
That gives her pause. She presses a thumb against her temple. “But I thought you were ready to cut ties and move along?”
I sneer at the implication that I’d surrender. “Oh, sugar. That’s a horrific misrepresentation of my earlier sentiments. I’m far from done with you.”
Goosebumps visibly pop along her flesh in a rippling path at my ominous tone. “Why don’t you just go through Vince and request me for your account personally? It would save you the hassle of trying to schmooze me.”
“So, you’ll listen to him?” The coiling in my gut is difficult to cast aside. Jealousy isn’t an emotion I’m well acquainted with.
“Well, yeah. He’s my boss.” She cares too much about her subpar position at Brogen Realty. Vannah revealed that priceless intel by not backing down after our initial blowout.
I drum my fingers on the table. The impatient beat is easy enough to decipher. “Is that the avenue you always take to get clients?”
“No.”
“What makes me different?”
“We know the answer to that.”
Fine, if that’s how she wants to play. “You’re intimidated by me.”
She tips her head back, a boisterous laugh streaming toward the darkening sky. “Is this a comedy club? I didn’t prepare any jokes.”
“See? We get along well enough.”
Vannah hums. “Ah, you’re being dense on purpose.”
“We should focus on what’s important.” Such as getting her under my thumb by any means necessary.
“Like eating,” she adds.
Twin plates slide in front of us with a trained ease this server will be generously compensated for. He’s gone before I can consider thanking him. Sunset Perch has the kind of competent staff I don’t see often enough in these so-called ritzy establishments. I’ll have to remember this place for future meetings.
Vannah slices through her steak with a hunter’s precision. It’s not lost on me that her eyes never stray to the plate. “You could have any agent for this, Lannie. Why me?”
I dig into my own meal while keeping my gaze on her. “I’ve already answered that.”
“Humor me,” she goads.
“You have the tenacity and skill to be the best in this industry. I want to provide that for you.”
“Just like that?”
“Sure, why not?”
She presses her ruby lips into a thin line. “Because you’re not a selfless, kind person.”
I deflect her shot with a grunt. “You wound me, woman.”
“No, I don’t. You’d require feelings for that, which I do recall you claiming to have none.”
There’s no arguing with that logic. “Be that as it may, I want you for this position. The reasoning doesn’t matter. I prefer going directly to the source, cut out the middleman, and all that. You should be the one to decide, and not because Vince assigns you.”
Her features pinch in consideration. “You want to hear me say I’ll be subservient.”
I nearly choke on my meat. “Is that a possibility?”
“Not in your dirtiest fantasies.” She paints a damn fine picture, though.
“See? You’re not afraid to refuse. I can’t teach someone to be bulletproof. That iron will you possess is what I’m after.”
“Under false pretenses,” she counters.
“I haven’t been dishonest with you.”
“Yet,” she tacks on. “The night is ripe for deceit.”
A retort brews in my chest. I might be ruthless, but I still have morals. “I didn’t get to the top by stepping on others. You’ll find that out when you come work for me.”
“With you,” she corrects.
I hold up a palm. “I’m willing to grant you some leeway, but we’re not equals.”
“Trust me, I’m not under the impression that we are.”
“Glad that’s settled.”
She squints at me while taking a sip from her glass. “For curiosity’s sake, do you have a real estate agent in every state?”
“That would be excessive, even for me,” I explain.
“Wouldn’t it make sense for you to choose someone from Chicago?”
“Are you trying to hand this job to someone else?”
“Not exactly, but I’m based in a Minneapolis office.” Her reminder is wholly unnecessary.
“Traveling can be expected.”
“I won’t leave Brogen Reality.”
“Not immediately, no.”
“Ever,” she states with a false sense of authority. “Or at least until I choose to go elsewhere.”
“We’ll see. There are branches across the nation if it comes to that.” For the sake of speeding this process along, I’ll concede to a certain extent. Temporarily, of course.
Vannah wags her fork at me. “I refuse to lose control of my career. You and this outrageous offer cannot be trusted.”
Pressure builds against my skull. This woman would debate the moon’s existence if it meant not agreeing with me. “You’d rather have Vince force you into this deal?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Not when you describe it like that.”
I glare at her. “You’re just not willing to take full responsibility for agreeing. Do you need a scapegoat to fall back on, sugar?”
“Can you blame me?”
I need to draw in a slow breath. “You’re overthinking and turning this opportunity into a problematic issue. What’re you afraid of, Savannah? I’m trying to offer you the deal of a lifetime.”
“Which is why I’m so skeptical,” she replies.
“Don’t be.” I spear my final bite of filet. “Let’s wrap this up.”
Vannah finishes chewing her last piece as well. “In a pretty bow?”
“Sure, if that’s how you prefer bonus checks to be delivered.”
“It’s not about the money,” she reiterates.
That’s certainly the truth in her case. This woman is relentless about being independent and standing apart. Her bold attitude is proof enough on that front. She isn’t driven by wealth or the need to acquire financial stability. Vannah cares more about integrity and being a leader in her field. Her reward is gaining respect in this competitive—and largely male-dominated—occupation. I’m sure uncovering a diamond in the rough for a client is a huge lady-boner for her.
With a roll of my shoulders, I relax in my chair. “I can promise you a reputable portfolio that others will envy until their complexion is greener than your eyes.”
“It’ll look great from the outside looking in, sure. But you’re stocking the lake. I’m just reeling in the commission without putting in much effort.”
“On the contrary, sugar.” I signal to the server that we need more drinks. We’re not going anywhere for a bit yet. “My tasks for you will rarely be to simply find dumpy warehouses with such little requirements. I’ll usually demand every crumb on the demographics, environmental factors, and financial analysis that your broker heart can collect. This first shot was lucky.”
She gives me a defiant upturn of her nose. “If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you’re trying to scare me off.”
“Does that make accepting more tempting?”
“Maybe. I’m always up for a challenge, especially if it involves showing off my skillsets while proving someone wrong.” Her smile is genuine enough that I feel the impact against my chest.
A scowl is my natural reaction as I rub at the foreign ache. “I’ll warn you that I’m hard to please. Whatever I need, you’ll be there with a full report.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less from the likes of Landon Winters.” There’s a hint of sarcasm
in her voice, but I choose to center on the positive.
“Careful or you’ll inflate my ego.”
Vannah laughs under her breath. “That bad boy has to be at full capacity.”
“You’re always welcome to give me several complimentary pumps so I can offer my best performance.” I shift my hips in offering.
“You’re shameless.” She rips her gaze away when I catch her glancing at my lap. “I better watch my mouth, or you won’t fit through the door.”
“Please don’t.” The words come out as a growl.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” she sits forward and extends her arm, “I accept.”
I slide my palm along her proffered one, pumping our clasped hands once. “Welcome to my team, Savannah.”
“Don’t make me regret this,” she orders.
Oh, I most certainly will.
I allow a slight curve to lift my lips. Mouse meet cat. She’s going to be right where I want her very soon. It will be a great honor to mold Vannah Simons into a form I see fit, whether willingly or by force.
Bath salts and acetone sting my nostrils, but I hardly notice. I sink my toes into the bubbly tub with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, yeah. That’s the good stuff.”
Clea sags in the luxurious seat next to mine, purring as the warm water churns around her feet. “This was a fabulous idea.”
A hum vibrates my throat. “Thanks for the invite, Mom.”
“Uh-huh, I appreciate being included.” Clea’s mouth goes slack as her eyelids flutter shut.
My mother beams at us from her chair on my other side. “You’re welcome, girls. It’s too bad Presley couldn’t join us.”
I pout at the mention of my missing bestie. “She’s off doing her motherly duties.”
“Her sweet boy is such an angel. I’m sure he would’ve loved a spa day.”
“He’s only a few months old,” I remind her.
She swats at the chemically perfumed air. “That just fine.”
“Pretty sure these fumes aren’t good for babies.”
Her sniff ends with a cringe. “Perhaps that’s true.”
“Don’t worry, he’s spoiled rotten.” My credit card statement is proof enough. Splurging on that little man is a true delight.