Lana Losers had taken her last name to heart growing up. While hardly anyone in her family was a loser, it did carry a certain negative connotation. I’m a winner. I’m going to be the biggest winner this room has ever seen. After a few deep breaths, she allowed Roger to lead her back into the main conference hall.
The meat of the conference started the next day and would last the next three. But the mixer that afternoon was one of the most crucial. Networking was the lifeblood of the real estate world, especially when it was a world full of friendly (and not-so-friendly) rivalries that could either make or break careers. Agents ditched their firms and ran off with other ones. Marriages were brokered as if they were properties. Women like Lana? Well, there were so few of them, let alone ones as conventionally attractive as her, that she turned enough heads to give her motion sickness.
Roger paraded her in front of his contemporaries and her potential new bosses. Here in the heart of New York City, it was easy to meet the men (it was always men) controlling some of the biggest firms in the nation. Some of them… were a little too eager to meet her. For all the wrong reasons.
“You are absolutely radiant,” said a manager of New York’s second biggest firm. “Who does your makeup, love? My wife would kill to look like you!”
Lana forced a smile as she allowed this uncouth gentleman to kiss her hand. For more than seconds. Ugh. “Oh, you know,” she bullshitted, “I do my own makeup. Nothing special. Perhaps I’m a natural beauty.”
The manager took a step back. Too blunt for you? Too confident? Sorry, pal, no Demure Debbies over here. Besides, she highly doubted that this man’s wife wanted to look like her. More like he wanted his wife to do so. He’ll hit on me in 3… 2…
“If you ever have the time, Ms. Losers, I’d love to discuss your future over some Chardonnay.” Whomp. There it was.
A half hour passed in a blur trapped in molasses. All these men coming from all directions and taking up my time. I feel like I’m in the worst gangbang ever. Dear Lana had been in a couple, too. She would know.
“Make it stop,” she finally said to Roger. She pressed her hand upon her stomach in an effort to settle the bile gurgling there. Not only did she need food, but she needed a hard drink. When was this mixer over? When could she go to the hotel bar and dump Roger for the night? Surely a bartender would be better conversation. Maybe he’d even be cute. Lana didn’t care if her convention fucktoys only made minimum wage plus tips. If they could do her right, she’d take anyone to her room. “Or at least let my brain rest for ten minutes.”
“Come on, Lana.” Roger tugged on her arm as if he were a caveman. Grab my hair while you’re at it! “One last man to introduce you to. I promise. Then you can go tinkle in the girl’s room, if that’s what you want.”
I’m gonna kill you, Rog. At least Lana didn’t have to smile around him. Roger never expected smiles from his star pupil. He only expected commissions. Commissions out his ass.
“Ah, David!” Roger flagged down the last man he wanted to introduce Lana to. “Is that Andrews with you? Both of you come over here and shake my fucking hand! I’ve got the best person you’re going to meet at this conference here with me!”
Lana barely paid attention as two men approached them. One was tall, the other considerably shorter. Both had dark hair and wore similar three-piece Brioni suits – except the taller man had a gold vest, and the shorter sported a royal purple sprinkled with forest green. Neither wore ties. They didn’t have to. Their collars were slightly turned up and their cufflinks made out of pure gold. Lana knew who they worked for before the introductions began. Lois & Bachman. The biggest firm in New York City.
“Allow me to introduce you to Lana Losers. Perhaps you’ve heard of her? She’s picking up the award for most sales in the past year.” There was that hand clap again. Right on her shoulder, shaking her down to her core. Bastard. Like she was his son he could show off at the country club. Roger didn’t even have a son!
“Pleasure,” said the taller man.
“I’ve heard of her, yes,” said the shorter.