Page 56 of Fake Out

Isaac scowls deeper, the lines on his forehead deepening alarmingly. “This isn’t part of the job and you know it. You’re not supposed to be emotionally involved.” He points at me, that index finger like a dagger in my chest.

“I am not emotionally…” I stumble over my words, my heart pounding in my chest. “Isaac, this is….”

He raises a hand, silencing me. “It’s not professional,” he says, his words slow and deliberate.

My heart slams against my ribcage. This is such bullshit. I’ve heard the other agents talk about dating clients — hitting on them, too. This industry can be real sleazy sometimes.

But Charlie and I aren’t like that. I wasn’t even the one to initiate.

And why should we be treated differently than anyone else?

Of course, I know why. Isaac has always had it out for me. Ever since I started here, he’s been trying to stop me from advancing. At this point, I’m seeing it as a cruel pastime he likes to indulge in.

I lift my chin. “If you’re going to tell me to stop seeing Charlie, that won’t happen.”

He doesn’t so much as blink. “Oh, I wasn’t going to do that. I plan on just taking him from you.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

“You’re no longer representing Charlie Elwood. Darren will take it from here.”

“Darren?” I sputter, my face heating up.

Darren is another one of the junior agents — a complete bro of Isaac’s, who’s been shown favoritism before.

“Charlie is my client.” I have to fight to stop myself from yelling.

“Was,” Isaac corrects. “He was your client.”

“Are you really suggesting that he’d prefer to work with Darren over me?” I ask, my voice loud and firm. I can feel a veil of anger descending over me.

“Oh, I’m sure Charlie will adjust just fine.” Isaac shrugs, the corners of his mouth lifting in a taunting smirk.

“You can’t dictate my personal life, Isaac,” I declare, standing up abruptly. The chair behind me squeaks in protest and my head spins from the sudden movement. This is a nightmare.

His eyes flicker with amusement. “I can dictate who you represent at this agency.”

“You’re doing this because you’re threatened by me, aren’t you?” The accusation slips past my lips before I realize it. It’s not a question; it’s the truth.

The smirk falls off his face. He looks shocked.

A moment later, though, he recovers. “You flatter yourself.”

“But it’s true,” I counter, leaning over his desk. The sharp edge digs at my hip bone, grounding me. “You’ve seen my work, and you know I’m good.”

“Oh, you’re good,” Isaac admits, rolling his eyes. “But not that good.”

I refuse to back down. “Better than Darren.”

“Maybe,” Isaac says nonchalantly, but I catch the flicker of doubt in his eyes. I’m getting to him.

“So why am I being replaced?” The words taste bitter in my mouth.

Instead of giving me an answer, Isaac leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. His gaze rakes over me as if he owns me. “I make the calls here, Marissa. Not you.”

“You can’t control everything,” I snap back. I’m tired of his games.

His smirk returns full force. “I don’t need to control everything… just enough.”

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