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12
Bella
The next morning, after breakfast with my mom, I arrive outside 15 Bond St. The building is still undergoing heavy construction, and a part of me doubts Greg Throttle can get this completed in time. But then again, he’s mega powerful, which makes just about anything possible.
I walk into the small showroom on the ground level, where a scale model of the building, along with the layouts of the three different floor plans, are showcased in the center of the room.
“Hi, I’m Helena.” A blonde woman, who’s taller than me, walks out from behind a desk, dressed in a cream-colored pantsuit. Her makeup is flawless, and her hair has not one strand in disarray. She’s beautiful. Like model stunning.
“Hello, I’m Bella Scott.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “Yes, Mr. Throttle told me to expect you.”
When she doesn’t say anything else, I look over the model to busy myself.
“We’re just waiting for the other broker, then we’ll begin,” she eventually says.
What is she talking about?
“I’m here.” Carm’s voice rings out behind me.
“Oh, I didn’t know you’d be here,” I say.
His eyes shift from Helena to me before he stretches out his hand and moves his gaze back to Helena. “Carmelo Mancini.”
This time her smile does reach her eyes. Hell, I’d say it reaches her pussy with the way she’s practically purring. “Very nice to meet you. I recognize your name…” Her gaze tracks back my way for a millisecond.
“Probably my billboards.” He shrugs.
Her gaze slips down his body as though she’s mentally tracking what he looks like naked. “Oh yes, I remember now.” She doesn’t even bother trying to hide the appreciation in her voice.
I inwardly roll my eyes, knowing I can’t be unprofessional in this setting.
“So this is the model?” Carm switches into business mode, releasing her hand and coming up next to me.
Whatever, buddy.Maybe I should give them fifteen minutes alone so we can move on to what we’re really here for.
“Yes. There are three different floorplans…” She continues on her spiel.
I take in all the information even though she never glances at me once. Her manicured nail—with nude polish—points to various places on the floorplan while she explains the features. Carm’s “uh-huhs” and “interestings” as though she’s the most fascinating woman on earth aggravate me to no end.
My body is hot all over and you’d think I was about to start my period or something. Even I can feel myself getting pissed off with very little poking. Well, Helena’s poking me by wanting Carm to poke her.
Jesus, I need to get this guy out of my head.
“I’ll take you up to show you the space now.” Helena disappears into an office, presumably letting whoever’s in there know that she’s stepping out.
Whoever the other person is, they discuss lunch, and I step toward the door to flee this situation as soon as I can.
“How was breakfast?” Carm asks me as if we’re friends.
We’re not friends.
Right now, we have competing interests. If I can sell out an entire development as an FSBO broker, there are no limits to how successful I can make my company.
“Breakfast was fine.”
“That’s it?”
