by Harloe Rae
“That’s good.” A serene smile brightens her features. “We all deserve to be pampered every now and then.”
“Darn skippy,” my friend agrees.
“You’re such a riot, Clea.” Mama Simons giggles behind her palm.
“Just feeding the humor pool.”
She fluffs her red hair—the same auburn shade as mine. We don’t discuss the fact that she has to dye hers these days. “And you do it well, dear. Laughter keeps your heart young.”
I squint at her through my relaxed haze. She’s an expert on the subject. Even in her mid-sixties, Jillian Simons is a fox. Her skin is still naturally smooth considering her age. The wrinkles she has are well earned, and she wears them with pride. Those good genes are being passed down to me.
Another slow exhale escapes me as the massage feature kneads my lower back. This salon is top-notch, which comes as no surprise since this outing is on my mom’s dime. She likes to pretend we’re still teenagers with dismal funds. I’ll never complain about a free pedicure. That’s a small handout I accept from my parents. A sour gurgle erupts in my belly. My father is damn lucky to have her. I’d be salty about that if he didn’t treat her like a goddess. Regardless of his bitterness towards me, he adores my mother. I’m well aware that he loves me too. It just wouldn’t kill him to express that more often.
Can someone say daddy issues?
Guilty as charged.
With a huff, I shake off the negativity. “Give me all that positive juju, Mom. Fill my cup.”
She shimmies in place. “Happy to oblige. It’s been too long since we’ve done this. How about we stop somewhere for lunch next?”
“Absolutely, and that will be my treat.” I hold up a floppy palm when she starts to interrupt. “No, I insist.”
Lord knows I can afford to cover the bill with my new client promising me a fortune. A familiar sense of suspicion snakes down my spine, sending a chill to follow close behind. That man isn’t to be trusted. I’m pretty much waiting for the rug to be ripped out from under me.
“You’ve been working too hard lately.” Her eerie ability to guess what’s on my mind never ceases to amaze me. She calls it maternal instinct. I’m sure she’s just very well versed in the art of prying. “That big raise better be yours.”
I purse my lips at the additional reminder of who has me so busy, and why. If she knew the truth, my mom would likely encourage me to quit and apply for law school. She shares that opinion with my dad—go figure—but is far less adamant about it. They’re finally coming to terms with the fact that the point is moot. I’m determined to make my own success along the path I choose.
It’s only been a week since Landon convinced me to become his personal realty agent. That title still doesn’t make any sense, nor does his persistence, but I’m choosing to focus on the bigger issues. He wasn’t joking about being demanding and making me earn my commission. I’ve been busting my hump ever since we shook on the deal. Forcing a deep inhale grants me another lungful of nail polish remover and flowery soap. The benefits will pay off soon enough.
My only saving grace is that he flew back to Chicago the following afternoon. Not having his presence looming nearby allows me to breathe easier. That doesn’t stop him from pestering me with emails, calls, and text messages. Every morning he floods one inbox or another with tasks to complete. The freaking list never ends.
I can feel the stress creeping in along my shoulders despite the soothing atmosphere trying to console me. Watching the pedicurist attack my callouses with that cheese grater tool doesn’t even hold the same amusement. A twinge tugs at my muscles when I adjust my position. It’s the weekend, dammit. Landon cannot dictate my days off.
Mama Simons quirks a sculpted brow at me when I shift in the chair again. At her continued stare, I recall she had hinted at my promotion. “Uh, yep. Vince has all but made an official announcement that the leadership role is mine.”
I’ve been wondering how that change will impact my new agreement with Landon. Seeing as my faith in him is less stable than a newborn calf, I’m choosing to cross that bridge if it arrives.
“Oh, good.” Her palm flutters to my arm. “You deserve it, sweetie.”
“I agree.” Screw modesty.
Clea leans forward to address my mom, but her words are meant for me. “Does she know who you’re working with?”
The sharp jerk of my head paired with a death glare are greeted by Clea’s wide smile. She erupts in laughter.
I narrow my eyes until only a thin slit remains. So much for keeping my mom in the dark and blissfully unaware. “No, I don’t think she’s been informed yet.”
“Oh, this sounds juicy.” My mother wiggles her brows. She’s always been a gossip hound.
“Don’t make a huge deal out of this,” I warn.
“That tactic doesn’t work on me, dear. Just rip off the bandage. You know this.” It’s true. She overreacts about everything.
“Landon Winters.” There’s no sense in concealing my wince.
My mom lets her jaw hang. Unlike me, she’s rubbed enough elbows with local high society to put a face to his name. Not to mention a pile of sordid details that lack any real accuracy. Well, maybe not in Landon’s case. He’s probably hiding all sorts of skeletons. But that’s beside the point.
Her lips are still parted comically. “How… when… why didn’t you tell me?”
“He’s just another client. Nothing special,” I offer.
My mom snorts for maybe the third time in her life. “Vannah, honey, I’ve always been quite fond of your carefree spirit. You’ve always done things your way, which is great. I can appreciate that you see everyone on a level playing field. But this aloof attitude is extreme, even for you.”
“I didn’t know who he was, okay?” It’s a bit of a sore spot for me. I will freely admit that lacking a general awareness of his existence was an oversight on my part.
Clea is trying to muffle her laughter. “This just makes my entire month.”
I pin a twitchy eyelid on her. “Oh, shut it.”
Meanwhile, my mother remains in a contemplative state. “Is this one of those pranks you kids like to pull?”
If only I were that creative. “No, Mom. This is real.”
“Wow,” she mouths.
“Again, not a huge deal.”
“Landon Winters is a very huge deal, Vannah. This is very exciting.” The twinkle in her eyes confirms as much. “Are you two an item?
I cackle—very loud—garnering attention from everyone in the salon. “That’d be a hard no.”
“But he’s so handsome.” She leans forward to add, “And very rich.”
He’s also a raging egomaniac. “Good for him. I’m just trying to sell him some properties.”
“Just wait until your father hears about this. He’ll be so proud—”
“Please don’t tell him,” I blurt.
“Vannah,” she admonishes me.
“This is only a trial run,” I rush to say. “I don’t want to jinx anything.”
“What could go wrong? You’re the greatest at what you do.” I doubt she fully understands the complexity behind being successful in my occupation.
“Let’s just say he’s… challenging.” And that’s a generous description. Aside from a few chuckles and lopsided smirks, the guy could be mistaken for concrete. It’s a talent to remain that stoic for hours. That’s without taking his sunny personality into account.
My mother swats at the space between us. “That’s not a problem. Your specialty is managing difficult men.”
I turn toward Clea while hitching a thumb at my mom. “She gets me.”
My friend shakes her head. “I would hope so, considering she birthed you.”
The woman in question has a wistful expression across her features. I can practically see the memories replaying in her starry gaze. Just as quickly, the calm softness vanishes from her features. “We’re not done discussing Landon.”
I glare at the
ceiling. “There’s not much to tell. I’ve only met with him a handful of times.”
“You said he’s challenging. Is that code for him being mean?” Mama Bear mode appears in tense lines around her eyes.
Sharing the gritty truth isn’t going to help anyone. “No, he’s perfectly fine.”
Clea scoffs, knowing full well I’m lying through my teeth. “Then what are you complaining about? Having him as a client will give your reputation a serious overhaul. Everyone will seek you out because of him.”
“That’s only if he gives me a glowing recommendation for referrals.” Which is less likely than winning the lottery.
My mom pats my cheek. “What’s the worst he could say about a wonderful girl like you?”
There’s no good way to answer that.
“Okay, enough shop talk.” I press a finger to my lips. “Let’s not ruin my favorite part.”
The nail technician begins massaging my arch and I just about melt into a puddle. I’m spewing noises that are indecent at best.
“Jeez,” Clea exclaims. “I’d like some of that too.”
I barely hear her as the lady digs into my heel. “Oh, yes. Right there.”
“Vannah,” my mother scolds.
“I can’t help it,” I whimper. “It feels so good.”
The queen administering my pure pleasure laughs. “Don’t worry. It happens all the time.”
“I bet Landon Winters could get that reaction for an entirely different reason,” Clea murmurs. She shares a wink with my mother.
If they only knew how rotten he is at the core…
And that’s the real kicker. He’s incorrigible, but most seem willing to overlook his lethal flaws. I’m trapped in this torment by my own doing. Regret hasn’t settled in quite yet. There’s room for improvement at this rate.
If nothing else, I’m figuring out what makes him tick. We have yet to discuss his revealing outburst, but I have every intention of exploiting that sensitive spot when the moment calls. I discovered a sliver of good, uncovering that Landon is human after all. He cares about someone, whether past or present doesn’t make a different to me. Hate might be all that remains, but he might’ve loved this mystery girl at some point.
Whoever she is must’ve been a real piece of work. She’s my shero. Well, unless she did something horrible. I can’t even imagine what happened to cause such a lasting impact on a man like Landon. She’s his weak spot, and I have every intention of using her to my advantage.
As if summoned by the devil, my cell phone begins to ring. Landon’s number flashes across the screen. Someone’s ears must’ve been burning. The clench in my stomach is becoming an automatic reflex where he’s involved.
I’d send him straight to voicemail, but that’s a lesson that doesn’t need repeating. The man is relentless and refuses to be silenced. It’s in my best interest to answer and avoid further confrontation.
“Sorry, I have to take this.” I shoot an apologetic look to my companions before swiping to accept. “Hello, Lannie.”
“I need you in a meeting.” He’s nothing if not efficient.
“All right, when?”
“Thirty minutes.”
I cough to cover my choke, disbelief squeezing tight to my windpipe. “Excuse me?”
“Half an hour, Savannah. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Heaven forbid.
“More notice would be great. Also, it’s Saturday.”
“Your point?”
That he’s a tyrant. “I can’t fit that in my schedule today.”
“You can, and will.” His authoritative tone threatens to carve at my sensitive spots.
If I agree to this, what happens next? He’s already impossible to please. I flop back into my chair with a petulant huff. “Or what?”
“Do you actually want to hear the answer?”
I tamp down a scream from rushing to the surface. Our first contract proposal hasn’t been drawn up yet and he’s already trying to control me. Again. “You’re not even in town.”
“Nice try, but I actually flew in this morning. You should check your emails.”
Repeating that it’s the weekend seems like a lost cause. I’m certain his plan is to drive me insane. “I’ll be sure to do that shortly.”
“You’re at my beck and call, remember?”
I don’t like the sound of that. “That’s not what I agreed to.”
“Not sure you have a choice, sugar.”
I grind my molars until a dull throb spreads. “There’s always an alternative.”
His pause swells with prickling malice, aiming to strike at the optimal moment. “I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
Biting my tongue is beginning to weigh on me. “Maybe you should.”
“Do you actually mean that?”
A glance to my right shows Clea in all her grinning glory. Her glee is misplaced, and my pride is feeling the brunt. On the other side, my mother is creasing her brow. She’s willing to risk more wrinkles worrying over me. Disappointing her isn’t an option. Lead pumps in my veins as I steel myself for what lies ahead.
“If only it were that simple.” Defeat clouds my tone, the words tasting sour. I’m already in the thick of it. There’s no stopping now.
“Just as I thought.” Victory clangs in his voice. “The clock is ticking. You better get moving, Savannah.”
“The nail polish isn’t dry on my toes. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t started the second coat.”
“I don’t care.” Of course not. Why would he?
I grasp onto my last shred of hope. “It’s not possible for me to get wherever you are in that amount of time. I didn’t drive here.”
“I’ll send a car. Text me your location.” Then he hangs up.
I stare at the phone, my mouth poised open with a retort that goes unsaid.
“Well, that sounded pleasant.” Sarcasm drips from Clea’s voice.
“You have to leave?” The frown marring my mom’s face chips at my resolve to hide Landon’s true self.
“Unfortunately,” I mutter. “I guess there’s some super important meeting that requires my attendance.”
I have the sudden urge to run in the opposite direction. Landon is proving to be the impenetrable force I first pegged him for.
“We understand, sweetie. Work is important.” She sympathizes, of course. After being married to my father for over thirty years, hearing this excuse is second nature.
The knot in my chest tightens, clenching in a sharp ache. I’m a motivated girl on a mission to expose this guy for who he really is. “It’s totally fine. I have this situation under control.”
Their matching expressions are prepared to call bullshit, and I might agree with them.
I’m about to read over an initial quality report with the Sunny Skies owners when Vannah bursts through the door. A glance at my watch reveals that she’s three minutes early. Even fighting the odds I stacked against her, she arrives as prompt as ever. I might give her credit for that if this goes well.
Her stride stumbles to a halt when she notices us sitting around the small conference table. A blush that matches her hair races up her slender neck. These fair-skinned beauties can never hide their embarrassment. She tries to shake off her shock with a wobbly grin, tucking some stray strands behind a red-tipped ear. “I apologize for just barging in.”
“Nonsense.” I pat the chair beside me. “We’ve been waiting on you.”
Vannah narrows her eyes on me for an instant so brief the others most likely miss it. There’s little doubt that she’s fuming on the inside. Demanding her to attend a meeting on such short notice—especially on a Saturday—is a dick move, but I wouldn’t be me without those signature ploys. She’ll come to understand that what I say goes.
“Hello there, I’m Vannah Simons.” They provide their names after her introduction. She flutters a delicate hand down the front of her basic shirt. The pink cotton is nearly threadbare. “I’m sorry about my disheveled appearance. This meeting
wasn’t on my calendar until very recently.”
Betty scoffs. “You look just fine. Don’t give fancy clothes a second thought on our account.”
“We’re causal folks,” Paul adds.
They’re far too forgiving for my standards. Her frayed cutoffs and flip-flop sandals are offensive for a professional setting, regardless of the company we’re keeping. I’m not willing to note how edible she appears with all that bare skin on display.
That familiar confidence straightens her posture as she struts to my side and sits down next to me. “Well, I do feel bad for interrupting. Don’t let me get you too far off track.”
“We just started, actually. I’m glad you could spare an hour from your busy schedule to join us.” I dig deep to find a smirk entirely for her benefit.
“Anything for my favorite client.” She pats my arm, the patronizing touch steeped in needles.
Riley’s face is almost split in half by his wide smile. “I can see why he wants to include you. It’s real nice to see such a comfortable camaraderie between business associates.”
I’m sure it is. The urge to roll my eyes is almost overwhelming. Most would consider this behavior highly suspect, but these three couldn’t care less about my dealings prior to arriving on their doorstep. I sip some coffee from my steaming mug before continuing. “Ms. Simons has proven to be relatively useful as of late.”
Vannah grins at my backhanded compliment. “You’re always so generous with the praise. It makes me work extra hard, just for you.”
I couldn’t have planned a better segue. “Which explains why you managed to arrive so fast. Inviting you was the right choice.”
“That’s one way to put it,” she mutters under her breath.
Ignoring her snark is a newfound hobby. “Well, now that you’re here.”
She seems to gather a hint from my prompt. Her focus veers to Paul, Betty, and Riley. “Do you want to visit the building? I just need to alert the grounds manager.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I interject.
“Oh?”
I wave at the papers in front of me. “We’re just going over some potential maintenance costs that a contractor collected. I thought it would be good to have you close in case there are questions.”