Selling Out to the Billionaire

“I just want to thank you,” he says in my ear, “for being so helpful and accommodating. I appreciate the extra work you’ve put in today.”

I think I say something like thank you. I hope it was coherent.

“This bedroom is just what I imagined. I can picture it, fucking someone right here against the glass for all the world to see.”

His words paint the image in my mind and I can see myself naked with him, panting against the glass. I can feel his erection against me, and my head falls back, pressing my ass into him. Screw professionalism.

Derek releases my hands and steps away. I stumble, but recover to see him smirking at me from a few feet away. The front of his pants are bulging with his erection. The sight of it makes my insides throb—I push my knees together, trembling as I ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m finished here. I’ve decided that I don’t like this house after all.”

My mouth drops open and I don’t recover it in time. “Are you serious?”

“I'm always serious.” He tucks his thumbs in his pockets, turning away.

I swallow slowly, trying to keep my anger in check. "Is it possible you could be more specific about what you don't like?" I'm itching all over with a hot, wild need to fuck. And he's standing there like we were looking at old cars that he changed his mind about. I am not an old car. I'm also not a house, but I'm definitely confused as hell.

"I said I wanted the best." His eyes narrow. "And if this and that pathetic excuse for a mansion you showed me earlier are the best you have, then I think you and I are done."

I feel myself begin to snap and I can’t stop it. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t just do things like this.” My voice rises in volume. “You don’t show up an hour late to an appointment, you don’t dismiss things out of hand, you don’t demand things that are unreasonable. I know you may be richer than the entire world's population combined, but that doesn’t give you the right to ignore common decency. And that…” I sputter and gesture at the window. “What was that? You get all handsy then back off like you're made of ice. You say you know what you want, but I don’t see any evidence of that. You need to make up your mind, Mr. Conway.”

I run out of breath and stop, realizing that I yelled at my client. At Derek Conway. Well…he did deserve it. And if he fires me I’ll deserve that. We’re even.

He doesn’t even look like he heard me, standing there perfectly unruffled with his lips in a neutral line. “Are you finished?” he asks.

I straighten my spine and set my shoulders. “Yes.”

“Good,” he says, turning and walking towards the door. “Watch your tone, Ms. Swanson. If you don’t I can easily find another realtor to handle this transaction. I’ve cleared my schedule tomorrow so that we can look at more properties. Remember,” he says, vanishing around the corner, “I want nothing but your best.”

Then he's gone, and all that's left is his addicting scent in the air around me.

4

On my way home, I call Anna—best friend and bitch session partner. If there’s anyone I need right now, it’s her. Her voice comes over the car speakers as she picks up. “Hello, my newly-minted realtor friend. How was your first day?”

I sigh. “Do you still have that bottle of vodka in your fridge from your birthday?”

“Shit. That bad?”

“Oh, no,” I say. “Bring ice cream too.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

We have a drop everything policy when the other is in distress. I am very, very in distress. I called Jeremy and told him that Derek wasn’t sold on any of the places that we saw and that I’d be showing more houses tomorrow. I apologized for having to put off my office orientation. He didn’t seem to mind, though I know the idea of a rookie like me taking on someone like Derek must make him nervous. At least he was polite enough not to show it too much.

An hour later my heels and dress have been discarded in favor of sweats. I’m halfway through a pint of strawberry ice cream and I have two drinks worth of vodka in my stomach. I’ve just finished rambling through my day, including everything from how late Derek was to how fucking hot he is. And the fact that he touched me more than once. And the fact that I should probably be really mad about it, but I’m not.

Anna slams her glass down on the coffee table. “He really said that? That you had to ‘watch your tone?’ God, what a prick.”

“Yep,” I say, shoving another spoonful of ice cream in my mouth and Anna does the same with her coffee flavored pint. “He’s really stupidly sexy, though. It’s unfair.”

“But if he’s an ass all the time it’s not exactly a good trade off,” she says.

“True.”

I put down my ice cream, choosing instead to finish the lovely vodka mixer that’s a pinkish orange in my cup. Anna handed it to me, I didn’t ask what was in it. She always uses my bar to make delicious things that I’m unable to replicate.

“So what now?” Anna asks.

“I guess I’m going to be spending some time tonight looking through more mansions,” I say. “I want nothing but the best." Mimicking his tone, I put on a pretentious face as I continue. "This is a pathetic excuse for a mansion. Be careful, Penelope, you wouldn't want your mouth to get you into trouble."

Anna is nearly doubled over with laughter. "Wow, I don't think I would have lasted as long as you did before tearing him a new one."

"I know. If he does buy a house it will be a miracle." I roll my eyes. "The way he’s dismissed the first three we may run out of listings to show him.”

Anna refills her glass. “Well you’re going to do your best there. But what about the rest of it?”

My eyebrows go up. “I don’t understand.”

“I mean the fact a gorgeous piece of man who clearly wants to screw your brains out is going to be tagging along with you all day tomorrow,” she says, raising her glass. “I mean, I know I just said that he’s an ass, but…”

I look at her expectantly. “But what?”

“If given the chance, I would do him in a heartbeat.”

“Anna!”

She grins. “I would. I've heard he knows his way around the bedroom, and I would take full advantage. I say that if you have the chance, you should go for it. But only if it’s not going to get you fired.”

“Yeah,” I say. “No matter how fun that all sounds, I need this job.”

“You’re going to do great.” She pulls out her phone. “I’ve gotta go. And you need to start looking for his houses before we drink ourselves under the table.”

I let my head fall back against the couch, exhausted just thinking about it. “Yeah. You okay to get home?”

“I’m taking a cab.” She waves her phone at me. “It’ll be here in a minute. I’ll pick up my car tomorrow. Make sure you text me how it’s going?”

“Sure.”

Anna gives me her brightest smile. “You’re going to knock him dead.”

“Hopefully not literally,” I say, and I hear her laughing as she heads outside.

I open up my laptop and log onto the Sunset Realty site, ready to work. Nothing but the best, he said. Fine. I’ll find him the best damn houses we’ve got. So far really the only hint I’ve had about what he actually likes is the floor-to-ceiling windows. That’s fine. Architecture trends in L.A. make it easy enough to find.

He seemed to like the outside of the third house better as well, so I look for houses that trend toward the modern—more sleek and angular, less old world design. Finally, I make sure the properties have privacy parameters like fences and surveillance.

After I filter our listings as well as I can, I’m still coming up with around thirty houses. I’m surprised there are so many, but it gives me more chances. Now it’s time to narrow them down.

I pour over the photos of the houses, comparing everything I can think of and choosing the best. I narrow it down to fifteen houses, and miraculously manage to schedule the showings in a way that doesn’t require hours of extra driving time. If we make it to all these houses, that will be fifteen total. God, I hope that I can find a house that he likes before number fifteen.

I send an email to Derek, asking him to meet me at the Sunset Realty office at eight o’clock in the morning. Finally, I can rest. I close the laptop and stretch. It’s close to two in the morning, and my body is reminding me that I’ve barely moved in hours. I go through the motions of getting ready for bed, barely able to keep my eyes open now that I’ve finished.

But despite my exhaustion, sleep doesn’t come. Instead, I see Derek, reliving that moment when he held me on the stairs. I try to recapture that delicious feeling of him pressed against my spine, those moments when I thought he was trying to seduce me and I was going to let him.