Chapter 1
“Look, I can explain,” Anna Webster said, pushing an annoying lock of hair out of her eyes for the tenth time. She forced a smile as she met the furious gaze of Pamela Holt, CEO of Holt Estates, who was sitting behind a large mahogany desk, glaring like a hungry raptor.
“Oh, you can, can you?” Pamela said, raising an eyebrow. She crossed her arms over her formidable bosom and glared at Anna with a gaze hot enough to melt lead. “Well, go on then. This should be good.”
Anna swallowed and tugged at the neck of her shirt. Was she imagining it or had it suddenly got very hot in here?
“That house wasn’t right for them,” she said, spreading her hands and giving Pamela her most charming smile, complete with dimples. “It’s better to make sure clients get the house theyreallywant, isn’t it? That way they’ll be happier with our service and be more likely to recommend us. So I thought—”
“Wasn’t right for them?” Pamela cut her off. “That’swhat you said? From what I hear, your exact words were, ‘it’s full of damp, the electrics are shot, and it’s overpriced. You’d be better looking at that new estate being built in WestHeath.’ Or have I got that wrong?” She smiled sweetly, which was utterly terrifying.
Anna shifted uncomfortably in her overstuffed leather chair. She felt like a naughty schoolgirl in the headmistress’s office. She’d had plenty of experience with that and the memories werenotpleasant.
“Well, I don’t think I said itexactlylike that.”
“You realize you’re an estate agent?” Pamela snapped. “You realize it’s yourjobto sell houses? It’snotyour job to send clients running the other way! They would have signed if you hadn’t told them what you did. Instead, they’ve booked an appointment to see a new build over at West Heath! Why did you say those things?”
“Because they’re true!” The words were out of Anna’s mouth before she could stop them. “Itwasriddled with damp. The electricsdidneed replacing and itisoverpriced. I wasn’t going to let them buy a rot-box that will probably have them spending their life savings trying to make it livable!”
As she realized what she’d just said, she felt her cheeks flush.Damnation,she thought.Brain and mouth not communicating again, Anna?
Pamela’s nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. “Miss Webster,” she said, her voice low and threatening. “This agency thrives on commission. If we don’t sell houses, no matter what state they’re in, we don’t make money and we don’t get paid. You’re not here to play Mother Teresa.”
Anna straightened her back and held Pamela’s gaze steadily. No matter what Pamela said, she didn’t regret what she’d done. Okay, maybe she shouldn’t have beenquiteso tactless with her clients, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. It didn’t mean she was going to back down either.
“I’m not trying to be a saint. I’m just trying to be honest. It’s not worth the commission if it means tricking innocent families into getting stuck with houses they can’t afford to maintain.”
Pamela’s lips thinned into a tight line and she uncrossed her arms. She ran a manicured hand through her silver bob, a sign that she was very annoyed. Richard from accounts, passing by Pamela’s glass office, paused to gawk at the spectacle then quickly ran off when Pamela’s steely gaze flicked to him. It was a gaze that promised certain death, or at least a hefty paperwork load for the week.
The silence between Pamela and Anna was broken only by the hum of traffic in the background and the ticking of a grandfather clock standing in the corner of Pamela’s office. The office itself was a study in measured luxury with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with hefty leather-bound books, numerous plaques announcing various ‘Estate Agent of The Year’ awards won by Holt Estates fixed to the wall, and an antique Persian rug which added a pop of color to the otherwise monochrome room.
Pamela reached into her desk drawer. Her hand emerged clutching Anna’s resume, still pristine in its glossy folder. As she opened it, Anna could see her own face grinning back from the photo attached to it.
“Pamela, I don’t think there’s any need—” Anna began, but Pamela held up a hand to silence her.
“Miss Webster,” she began, her voice chillingly calm. “Since your graduation from St Andrew’s University, you’vebeen involved with eight different jobs in just three years.” She raised an eyebrow at Anna, a silent question hanging in the air.
Anna took the smart option for once and kept her mouth shut.
Pamela traced her fingers over the list of jobs on the resume. PR Coordinator for Stintson & Co., Marketing Executive at Rank Health, Content Manager for Brandalysts... The list went on, each job pointing towards a young woman with a lot of talent but not much in the way of staying power.
“Eight jobs in three years,” Pamela repeated, pinning Anna with a critical gaze. “I knew this when I hired you, but your qualifications meant I was willing to take a risk on you. You’ve been with us barely three months, yet you take it on yourself to lose us two valuable clients, thinking you know better than agents who’ve been with us for years.” She dropped the resume onto the desk with an air of finality.
Anna swallowed hard, resisting the temptation to defensively snatch up the document. What was she supposed to say? Apologize? That she’d do better next time? This was no doubt what Pamela wanted to hear, but Anna couldn’t bring herself to do it. Truth was, shewasn’tsorry. Sure, she’d told those clients the truth and in so doing lost Holt Estates a sale but so what? Pamela was already rich and losing one sale wouldn’t make a difference to her business. But for Maggie and Thomas Lanes? They weren’t rich and had only just scraped enough money together for the deposit. She wasn’t about to let them squander that on a house thatwould likely turn into a money-pit and have them in debt for years. What kind of person would that make her?
Anna knew only too well that she had a habit of opening her mouth before it had fully engaged with her brain. It had gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion and her best friend, Lily, was always ribbing her for it. But she didn’t regret it this time. In fact, if she had her time over, she’d do the same again.
Perhaps that was her problem. Perhaps that’s why she moved from job to job, from city to city, floating on the winds of life wherever they took her. She’d never quite been able to make herself fit in, to conform to what others expected of her.
She’d graduated top of her class from university and had breezed through her course, but she’d driven her professors crazy. She handed things in late, turned up to lectures with a hangover—if she turned up at all—spoke out of turn during discussions, and generally made a nuisance of herself. Her report had described her as ‘charismatic’, which she knew was just a tactful way of saying talkative, unfocused, and generally a pain in the arse.
Pamela stared at her, eyes narrowed, tapping her lip with one brightly painted nail. “Tell you what I’ll do,” she said eventually. “I’ll give you another chance—”
“Thank you!” Anna cried, jumping to her feet. “You won’t regret this—”
“I haven’t finished. I will give you another chance if—” She paused and fixed Anna with that melt-lead stare. “If you call those clients back and tell them you made a mistake andthe house is perfect for them. Do that, seal the deal, and we’ll put this little...episode behind us.”
Anna’s heart sank. She sat back in her chair, the elation gone, replaced by a horrid sinking feeling. “You mean... lie to them?”
