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“Can my client change the layout if that’s an issue? I’m not talking major construction here. I’m talking about moving some walls. Is there flexibility?”
“Maybe you should ask Greg. I’m sure he’ll consider it, what with him being so chummy with your mom,” she says.
Carm’s head rears back and he steps away as though instinct tells him I’m going to launch us into a fight. But I’m not a fighter.
I walk away. “Maybe I will.”
What can I really say? She’s right. I have this opportunity because Greg is nailing my mom. So I might as well make her fearful that I’ll use my connection against her.
“I’ll also be sure to let him know how helpful you’ve been.” My snide tone tells her I have no intention of giving a favorable report.
I step into the elevator. A quiet Carm follows, and Helena eventually joins us and presses the button for the thirty-fourth floor.
I mostly look around by myself while the two of them go through each unit. I loathe women like Helena who flirt with a man while conducting business. How are we supposed to get ahead in this world if women keep letting men get their way because they’re good-looking?
Her giggles are like acupuncture pins digging into my skin, and her hand seems to be drawn like a magnet to his forearm until it’s almost permanently stuck there. He doesn’t once try to get out of her way or remove it.
Annoyance drowns me like quicksand—slowly and painfully.
When they round the corner to the elevator, I step in before them just to get this over with. I wish I would’ve brought Max. She always knows how to handle these things.
Helena talks to Carm about where he works out on the way down to street level. Does she not see how transparent she is?
I stay as far away from them as I can the entire ride down, finally able to breathe once the doors open.
“Let me grab you guys the flash drives with the pricing and promo stuff.” She disappears.
I scour the model again. I won’t be able to bring customers here like Carm will because that’s not how I do business. Which leaves me at a disadvantage.
“Want to come with me to the Trading Post?” Carm asks. “I have lunch there with my brothers every Thursday, but you could be my Wednesday date. The food is good.”
I eye him, wondering what his angle is. “Wanting to delay me so I can’t get my listings up before you?”
He chuckles. “Never.”
But I’m fairly sure I’m right.
“What do the Mancini men talk about anyway? The women in their beds and the dollars in their bank accounts?”
His smile only grows.
Helena interrupts us, handing us each a business card and the flash drive, but the card she gives Carm is turned over and there’s a phone number scribbled on the back in ink.
“Any time. I’m here to help.” Her eyes are solely on Carm.
“Yeah. Have a great day. Thanks.” I walk out, annoyed that I don’t seem to be on equal playing ground. She’ll probably send any of my clients straight to Carm.
She holds Carm back as I’m heading out the door. Thank goodness. I can make my exit quickly.
A cab stops outside, and I slide in, thankful the driver has the air conditioning on. This heat wave is killing me. This weather is typical for July, but that’s more than a month away still. The weatherman said it’ll be the hottest summer in years.
Before I can shut the door, Carm jogs out of the building and puts his hand on my door. “I’m heading back to the office, too. Have an appointment I forgot about.”
He slides in without permission.
“By all means, please.”
His cocky smirk is his only response as he slides in and grabs his phone from the breast pocket of his suit.
