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“You can’t do that,” he said, edgier than I expected him to be.
“Watch me,” I said. “I have an excellent attorney, so don’t fuck with me.”
He was jumpy, and I could’ve sworn I saw him break a sweat. “I’ll report you to the board for unethical behavior, all your fucking around with other brokers and pocket listings, and I’ll get your license suspended.”
I inhaled sharply. “You think you can blackmail me, you slippery little weasel?” I nearly shrieked. I don’t ever think I’d been as furious as I was now, and if I didn’t get out of here, I would punch this mother fucker in the face.
“You can’t quit on me, Natalia,” he said.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
That was the last thing I said before I bolted out the door. I might’ve engaged in activities with other brokers that looked unethical on the outside, but I took my career very seriously, and I’d never breached any code of conduct. If Adam was willing to twist things and bring things to light that made me look bad, jeopardizing my career, I had to wonder if it was worth the fight.
As I pulled into the parking garage of Mitchell and Associates, I realized this might not be such a great idea. Leaving Adam the way I did had me even more fucked up in the head. I had too much to deal with for my career to hang in the balance. How the fuck did I allow anyone to have something to hold over my head?
In the glamorous art of knowing exactly who and what I was, I stepped out of my Range Rover, handed the keys to the valet, and walked into the Mitchell and Associates building with more pride and focus than I believed I was capable of having at the moment.
The elevator stopped on the top floor, where I had to be cleared by security, informing Jim Mitchell I was on my way up to see Spencer. Apparently, Spencer had just returned from his lunch, and I’m sure he was prepping himself to see me for the first time in what felt like months.
“May I assist you?” a beautiful woman asked. She had bronze skin, perfectly blown-out hair, and was dressed immaculately in a white Dolce and Gabbana suit I’d been meaning to buy for myself.
“I’m here to see Mr. Monroe,” I said.
“Mr. Monroe is with a client. I’ll notify him that—”
“With a client?” I said, my blood pressure rising with this little gatekeeper lying straight to my face. “That’s bullshit, and you and I know it.”
“Excuse me?” She raised her eyebrows, clearly unappreciative of my tone.
“Inform Spencer that Natalia Hoover is here to see him and remind him that I do not like to be lied to or kept waiting. He’s most fortunate that I’m even here.”
“Miss Hoover,” she said. “I can have security escort you from these floors and—”
“It’s all right, Monica,” I heard Jim say as he approached from behind where this woman and I were in some weird standoff. “Natalia is a close friend.” Jim walked over to me, the handsome man grinning with a hint of arrogance, “How are you, Nat?”
“I’d be much better if I didn’t have to argue with everyone that I crossed paths with today,” I said as he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek.
“You’ll have to forgive Monica,” Jim said, smiling at Spencer’s secretary, “she’s exceedingly good at her job.”
“Forgiven,” I said, nodding at the woman. I was, however, feeling smug as fuck that I’d won the showdown. “Anyway, I need to speak to Spencer. It’s sort of urgent.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, leading me down the hall. “He and I have some urgent issues to discuss with you as well.”
“Really?” I said, confused. “Why the hell would you both need to discuss something with me?”
“Well,” he said, opening one of the double doors that led into his exquisite office, “are you comfortable here? Perhaps I can give you some information before Spencer arrives. It might help ease some tension in your reunion.”
“There is nothing in this world that’s going to help this reunion with Spencer.”
“May I inquire why?” Jim asked, motioning for me to take a seat as he sat on the edge of his desk.
“Because I need to speak with him about something before it spreads through our mutual friends. Unlike Spencer, I prefer to discuss personal matters privately, not drop truth bombs in front of our friends.”
“I guess it would’ve helped if Spencer gave you a heads-up about the private investigator.”
“Jim,” I said in a lower voice, “do not play coy with me. You know damn well that Spencer should’ve told me he was investigating my family and me, hoping to continue or deepen our relationship.”
“I completely agree with that, and so does Spencer.”
