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The guy chuckles again and Annie peeks over her shoulder.
Thankfully, the elevator dings, signaling that we’ve reached our floor and the doors part for us to exit.
I step out of the elevator then turn to face her. “Nice meeting you, Annie.”
And it was. She seems nice, and I could use someone who’s not hostile toward me in this office building.
The guy hovers around the outside of the elevator, staring at the small sign on the wall as though he doesn’t know where he’s going.
“Nice to meet you. We’ll definitely have to plan some kind of after-hour drinks together.” Annie waves to me and turns on her heels.
She’s so carefree and at ease. I feel like a ball of thread wound so tight no one can unravel me.
The man stays by the sign as I walk to my office. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up because it seems odd. He knew he had to be at floor six and there aren’t that many offices in this building. Four, total, on this floor.
I’m about to open the door to my office when I feel a grip on my elbow. “Excuse me.”
I swing around, deliberately smacking him hard in the leg with my briefcase.
He stumbles back and bends at the waist to hold his knee, and I quickly step into my office, letting loose a relieved breath when I spot Max at her desk. She looks at me over the rim of her glasses, probably wondering why my back is plastered to the door.
“Is the Mancini guy out there?” she asks, sliding her chair out from her desk. She tosses her glasses onto her paper-ridden desk and rounds her desk.
“No. I think I might’ve overreacted.”
A knock sounds on the door behind me a second later.
“I’ll see about that.” She places her hand on my hip and slides me away from the door before opening it a crack. “Hello?”
“Hi. Is Bella available?”
“And who may I say is asking?” She eyes me then looks back at him.
“Kevin Henderbrook.” The man’s voice is deep.
My face heats from the embarrassment of hitting him with my briefcase.
“Is she expecting you?” Max asks.
“No. But I had an appointment with Carmelo Mancini until I heard what she offers.”
My stomach flips. How does this man want to do business with me when I very well could have broken his kneecap?
Max opens the door and ushers him in. “By all means, come in. Sorry, but we’re two women and new to this building. You can never be too careful.”
Mr. Henderbrook glances at me. “It’s quite all right. I have five daughters. I should’ve known not to approach you like that.” He bows his head in apology.
He’s sophisticated and attractive for a man who’s probably in his fifties. I didn’t get a good look at him until right now, which my self-defense coach would reprimand me for.
“Please, I’m sorry. It was instinct. Come on in. Would you like something to drink?” I wind through our small office. Small meaning it’s me, Max, and two other part-time real estate reps who handle outside appointments and pictures if need be, so they’re rarely ever here.
“No, I’m good. I just wanted to hear more of what your company can offer.”
We enter my office and I shut the door. He sits across from me, and I give him my best pitch with the hope he’s actually interested. When I moved in across the hall from the Mancini Real Estate agency, I never intended to poach a client from them, but when opportunity knocks, you can’t say no.
You can apparently hit them with your briefcase though.
An hour later, Mr. Henderbrook signs the contract and slides the papers toward me. “Now comes the hard part. Letting Carm know I went a different route.”
